Ode to a FOSSIL: A Haiku

My watch screen has cracked

Why does my heart also break?

Time warps can't be fixed

An insecure winter evening

Winter is in full swing. The wind, that rascal, is dancing around the trees, seducing them and stripping them of any remaining leaves struggling to hold on. Our dear old friend Jack Frost is paying another visit tonight, and the heater is roaring away, bringing cheery warmth to an otherwise dreary, drafty night. I'm up late, honing my burgeoning homemaking skills and browsing Pinterest for more cleaning, decorating, and homemade-gift ideas.

Cozy, but insecure.

That about sums up how I feel right now. I could curl up on this bed for hours and keep this feeling alive. It's a luxury, though. I pay for it by going to work a few days a week and budgeting like a madman. I'm blessed to have a wonderful roommate who not only shares the rent and groceries, but also shares her life with me. Furthermore, it's a blessing to live with a reasonable rent, great neighbors and a kind landlord. All of our basic needs are met. But it can't last.

My roommate is moving to another town and will soon be getting married.

Everything will change next month, and I can't stop worrying.

Even after all I have to be thankful for... I still haven't learned to control my fears.

So I must keep reading the following, because I desperately need to take it to heart:

 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Matthew 6:25-34 

The story of one finger and a world of change

Two years ago, I had an accident at work. I sliced up the tip of my left index finger and had to go to the E.R. After getting six stitches and a finger guard, I made sure to be extra careful with razor blades thereafter.

Never underestimate the importance of even one little finger. That finger has the great honor of typing eight middle keys: 4,5, R, T, F, G, V and B. For the first couple of weeks, my middle finger was working overtime and I made mistakes on every sentence I typed.

At one point if I put my two index fingers together, I looked like I was stuck in a Chinese finger trap.

Like.
So.

If that wasn't enough, I soon developed a whole-body rash in reaction to the preventive antibiotic. What a lovely feeling. After two weeks, I had my stitches taken out. And so began the awkward stage of dry, peeling, nasty skin on my fingertip. Thankfully, now all I'm left with is a slightly noticeable indent running along the tip of my index finger.

But for a while, I couldn't even press a button with that finger. At the slightest touch, my shiny new scar sent a loud warning shot of pain through my nerves. Yet another temporary symptom of the healing process.

Again, it's been two years, but since then I've had many big, bad thoughts about that one teeny, tiny injury.

• I keep wondering how long this scar is going to stay. It's still noticeable right now, and my fingerprint has been slightly altered. But my hands seem to change and heal much faster than the rest of me. I once had a mole on the very tip of my pinky - it disappeared over time, much to my chagrin.

• For a short time, I experienced the palpable feeling of helplessness because of this one finger that I had to keep covered so that the stitched up end wouldn't get banged up. It made me realize that "mind over matter" is an altogether unrealistic philosophy to live out, because even the smallest physical change can cause a whirlwind of chain reactions that ultimately affect my thought process and even influence what I'm thinking about. 

• I never noticed how many things my hands slammed into throughout the day before the injury called my attention to it. I found out that my limbs can take quite a beating when I'm not paying attention!

• Scars are amazing. Not only does your body stitch itself back together using fluids specifically for that purpose, but while doing so, it ensures that the section of skin that's being repaired will end up much stronger than before. My finger is now reinforced with extra protection against unwieldy blades!

• I'm pretty grateful that I still have all of my fingers. Such a multi-purpose appendage is certainly not the most important part of the body, but it does perform some useful tasks. It points—it can help lead someone in the right direction, or it can beckon someone closer. It pushes buttons—with one push, this finger can take me up 10 floors or provides me with cool, refreshing water. It grasps—my grip is average, but my grip with a stiff index finger was atrocious.

• At times, I have felt like a bandaged index finger in the Body of Christ. Calling back to the useful functions it performs when it is working, I remember the various ways I helped out in my old church back when I felt that I was thriving spiritually. I sang in the worship team, operated the video booth, co-led a study group of middle-school girls and helped with VBS. But when that church split, I floundered. For a few years, I floated around in life, not committing to a church, self-sabotaging friendships, forgetting to study the Bible and forgetting to spend one-on-one prayer time with the most important person in the universe. But, you know what? I think the bandage has come off now. The stitches, too. They started itching ages ago and had to be cut. Now my new skin is setting, and I will be stronger than ever. God is toughening me up, and soon I will have a beautiful scar. I'm gradually getting more connected in my new church, and I think I'm ready to take the next step and serve. 

On the necessity of rain

Rain is a bad reminder of everything I don't want to know
Rain is a backseat driver that takes me where I don't want to go

The sky matched my mood for most of the day. Grey and overcast. I've been thinking back on the past month, trying to count my blessings in the middle of unfortunate circumstances. Life is beautiful, amazing and painful all at once. I feel ungrateful for the wonderful moments of happiness I've had because I am finding myself easily blindsided by the really awful moments of sadness.

This has been a difficult week for me emotionally. Honestly, it's been a difficult month, but this past week finished it off with a vicious twist of the knife. But my pain, though real, still feels somehow vicarious through my roommate.

I knew her brother. He stayed with us a few times this year. One time he was here for a week and started feeling almost like a surrogate little brother. But I'm not the one who changed his diapers, who soothed his tears and exchanged secrets. I'm not the one who lost her father from cancer only three weeks before losing her brother because he wasn't wearing his seatbelt. I'm not the one who had to step up and take responsibility for her mother's well-being while ignoring her own. I'm not the one who could barely walk after hearing that there was nothing more the doctors could do to stop the swelling in his brain.

No, I'm not the one whose baby brother has been ripped from her life because of one crazy car ride with his friends; that pain belongs to my roommate.

And it looks like the sky is caving in again
I'm dry and cracked, the sky goes black
And tut, tut, it looks like rain

Oh, Switchfoot, my faithful friends. There are times in my life that my soul needs music to help compose itself, and in those times I fall back on this dear band. I always find at least one song that speaks the thoughts and feelings I scarcely realized were there.

To think... I had assumed the low point of my year would be leaving my job without having found a new one yet. To be sure, I was a mix of sad, scared, and excited after the conversation with my boss that led to me leaving. I was sad that the business was struggling, disappointed with myself for not having the ability to become what my boss hoped I could be, but hopeful that the shop would be able to thrive. It pained me to admit that they deserved someone more capable than me - but it was true. I was in a skilled trade - but the only skills I have ever excelled at are in a far different kind of trade. I was scared of what the future would hold. Scared of not being able to find another job. Scared of being forced to move back in with my parents. Scared to be alone with my own thoughts - for I can be my own greatest critic and I remember far too many of my own mistakes. Scared that being jobless would negatively impact my new relationship. Scared that I could never be more than just competent at anything I tried to excel in. But still, I was excited. I was excited by all of the possibilities I was now open to explore. Excited to have a little more free time to finish projects I had neglected while working full-time. Excited at the possibility of actually using my Communications degree. Excited to be able to write, edit and design to my heart's content. Excited to catch up on new developments in my field and to brush up on old skills.

How very shallow the pain of being jobless is compared to the pain of losing two family members within a month. Needless to say, I want to be there for her and support her in any way that I can, but my human failings get in the way. I try my best to show empathy, but I haven't lost a sibling or parent. I simply cannot know how deep her pain is. All I know is that I also hurt from his loss - and it doesn't rationally make sense to me - I knew him very briefly in comparison. But now I don't have a chance to know him more, and my roommate won't get the chance to continue sharing life with him and see what kind of man he would have turned into. I hurt because of lost chances; I hurt because my roommate hurts.

Erosion
Oh, Spirit, fall like rain on my thirsty soul
Erosion
Oh, sweet erosion, break me and make me whole

We need God more than ever right now. My roommate and I may not be quite on the same page in terms of faith, but a couple weeks ago she schooled me! She reminded me that while Jesus took on our sins at the cross, He wiped away all record, as though we had never sinned at all. How amazing is that! My roommate, who for so long claimed agnosticism, who dated an atheist, who is currently dating a Taoist. I love this girl. And I hurt for her because she feels alienated from the Church. I'm only recently getting back into being involved with a church. It's been a long time coming. I hadn't realized how badly I took it when my old church split up. But like the song says... break me and make me whole. I think my old wounds were set badly, like a broken bone allowed to heal crooked. God is breaking that bone again to allow it to heal straight within the structure he is setting up for it. He's making a cast now, just for me. And healing will come.

The thirstiest grounds can't take the rain
My undecided vices washing on down the drain
And it looks like the sky is caving in again
My heart is cracked, the sky goes black
And tut, tut it looks like rain

I have so many flaws. As I said earlier, I am my own worst critic, and I can clearly see the majority of my own vices and flaws, even if I can't do anything about some of them. I'm constantly being overtaken by fear, and the thoughts of being inadequate, incompetent and incapable of holding down a good job. But those thoughts are lies! I can prove them wrong. I have held down good jobs, and I've been darned good at them! I just need to get back into the swing of things. When I have the confidence and the drive to get things done, I get things done right!

But I have yet to regain that confidence and drive. Somewhere in those three years I spent working in retail, I lost it. And I can see only one person who can truly help me regain what I lost... for what is impossible to the being who created all matter out of nothingness? NOTHING is impossible for God! and I can do all things through Him. Oh, how I need Him right now.

Oh, Erosion, would You wash away my sins?
Oh, Erosion, I need a second shot again
Oh, Erosion, would You break my heart again?
Oh, Erosion, I am a broken-hearted man

It still amazes me how God insists on giving second chances. And again, the song reminds me of yet another way God's mercy shone through. I've been seeing a lot of rainbows this past week, but the original rainbow appeared right after the rain. It showed up right after the rain, which washed the earth clean of its wicked and despotic rulers and brought about the chance to start again. The rainbow appeared not only because the atmospheric conditions had changed, but because God orchestrated those changes, and because God meant it as a sign that He was not going to give up on this second chance.

In a way, I'm getting a second chance. I'm getting the opportunity to do what I felt helpless to do right after graduation: Decide once and for all to commit to my chosen field. I was made with the innate desire to write. I was born with the innate ability to spot spelling or grammar errors after just a quick skim. God also gave me the sense of art and design needed to create many visually pleasing things. This is the work I was meant for.

And as for my roommate, I know part of her feels that her life as she knew it is over. The sense of deep loss from losing a close family member is not something to be taken lightly. But if her life as she knew it is over, then her life as she now knows it is just beginning. It has been and will continue to be tough for her to cope. But her broken heart will heal.

Knowing and believing

Scientists say humans speak an average of 10,000 words in a day. I guarantee you that on any given day at least one of those words will be a form of the root "know" or "believe."

I often pause before saying either of those two, because in my mind, there is a subtle but important difference between them. Whoever I'm talking to may not notice a slightly different shade of meaning, but I'm a stickler for being as accurate as I can be.

"I know this as a fact" versus "Yes, I believe that is true" is a very crucial division that can mean the difference between ending a discussion amicably or parting as enemies. Making the effort to consciously communicate that you don't hold all the answers works wonders toward actually convincing people that what you have to say might actually be valid.

On another level of interaction, think of what line makes someone feel more confident: "I know you." versus "I believe in you."

Belief wins, again.

And here's why I believe it does: belief is an investment. Knowledge, on the other hand, is an accumulation. One gives, while the other takes.

So, consider being a more giving person today. I believe you'll enjoy the benefits.

A Wild Thought Appears

As I huddle
in front of my laptop
on my bed
space heater blasting
heat blanket toasting
kitty nearby
wrapped up in his own tail
purring

I
think to myself
"This is not such a bad life"
I am blessed
Like the cat, I have food to eat and a roof over my head
unlike the cat, I've had to work for that food and that roof
Nevertheless
I am blessed
to be in such a city, in such a country
where I can afford my basic expenses
and then some
Oh yes,
and then some

So I do not worry anymore
about tomorrow
for tomorrow
can
take care of itself

Times gone by and Times to come

Well, it's a new year now. I've got a blank book to fill now with 364 more gloriously pristine pages. Now, will I fill them with beautiful pictures and warm fuzzy thoughts, or soil them with furiously scribbled out attempts and mistakes? Who knows... but either way, It's my book to fill, and by December 31, 2015, it will be like the last one - complete.

Speaking of last year, I think it was a pretty good one. There were definitely a lot of transitions in 2014, but they were fairly well spaced out so it wasn't quite as overwhelming as previous years have been for me.

Here were some major developments:

• My first full-time job
• My first freelance job in a long time
• Finally finding a church I can call home
• Switching bedrooms
• Becoming a board member of the local Swing Dance Society
• Getting a new roommate, losing an old roommate, and getting a new roommate again (who used to be an old roommate)
• Rediscovering my personality type by re-examining my cognitive functions

All of these developments have far-reaching implications that will continue to affect me in this new year, and that is fantastic. But with each new development, I must find a way to improve how I interact with the world.

So, here are some New Year's resolutions!

• I'm going to get my sleep schedule back on track. I don't know entirely how right now, but this needs to happen. I've been losing far too much sleep because of my crazy holiday schedule (retail is the worst possible sector to work in over the holidays, by the way), and I need to take back control so that I can function better while awake.
• I want to recreate some of my old pieces of art (or just one in particular that has some sentimental value) to see how much my drawing skills have improved.
• I am going to use my healthcare plan for all it's worth. I have dental work that needs taken care of, I need to have my thyroid and vision checked, and I might look into seeing a counselor for a couple of lingering issues I'd like to resolve. I'm very thankful for being full-time with health insurance right now. No matter how much free-time I'm sacrificing in the short term, it's going to be worth it in the long-term.

So these are my resolutions. Not a long list, I know, but I think it's fairly manageable. I've set some lofty goals and some very realistic ones, so there's some balance to it.

Stay tuned, it's gonna be a great year!

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!