Seeking the Uncomfortable

Many of us spend every ounce of energy we have to avoid an uncomfortable situation. I would venture to say that we often make ourselves uncomfortable in order to achieve this goal. I'm reminded of this as I walk by the old ships in the harbor. The smell of fish filling the air around me. It's unavoidable at this point.

Being a vegetarian will periodically add a level of complication to eating. Listening to my friends say, "Can you eat there?" It's exhausting. It is also endearing. At least they care enough to ask. Many times the result is the same as it is today. Sitting in the back of a fish market pouring over the menu in search of a non-meat substance. But I don't want to be that guy. The guy who determines the eating habits of everyone around him in order to suit his own. Seems easier to go hungry.

Earlier this morning I was reminded again of how out of place I feel. Just like I feel now. Like a fish out of water seems too easy a metaphor to use. Like when I watch football or the Country Music Awards. I can't help but wonder how I got here in the first place. I should have just made up a lame excuse and went home instead. But right now, watching people pour into this seafood mecca, I don't want to be anywhere else.

That uncomfortable feeling is subsided by the laughter of my children as they play. They are so at ease with our two friends that they could be their own family. If I let my mind drift, my children would cease to be mine and Alyson's. I would again be yearning for the joy that our two friends have one day to experience. For now we simply enjoy the peace that comes along with two extra sets of eyes. Stopping the one-year-old from smearing ketchup on everything.

The menu comes to my rescue with a sole vegetarian option. We order. We eat. We talk. It seems so simple. Maybe it seems insignificant but I can feel God at work in every word we share. Our words matter and they change us with each syllable. They cut deep to a place that others will never see or understand. Our sentences change our thoughts. These change moments which will eventually go on to change lives. Lives that will start movement and revolution. Movement that will change a city, a country or even a planet. Times and futures.

I lose myself in the conversation. We talk about Jesus like He is an old friend. That morning at church we told each other stories of how the Holy Spirit has been made present in our lives. Now I can see a new story unfolding itself to be told as I again sense something outside of our small back booth. God is telling us that we have a part to play in all of this. We have a role in this grand story but it will require us to do things we may not want to do. Like Jonah, throwing himself into the sea only to be spared by a fish.

We step out in the warm air that passes for a Florida autumn. It is unmistakably too hot for November. Once again I feel uncomfortable. Like things shouldn't be this way. Again still,  I am comforted knowing that I am right where I need to be. We follow the boats to the back of the building and walk along the wooden docks. I can't help but take a photograph. It's too perfect. My friends look so in love even with their features melted into a silhouette against the sun's light.

And to think, all of this could have easily been avoided.

It Ain't How Hard You Hit...

I have been thinking a lot this week about Rocky. I'm not sure why exactly. I should tell you that Rocky is in my top ten movies of all time. If you have never had the privilege of viewing this wonderful film, I urge you to stop reading right this second. Solicit whichever movie rental service you prefer and watch this movie. I'll wait.

And yes, KC Mitchell, there will be spoilers.

First, a brief history. I saw Rocky when I was in college. I signed up for this unlimited movie rental program and started going through all the movies I had always been told to watch but never had the time for. Aliens, Goodfellas, Akira, those sorts of films. I usually don't like sports movies. I never saw the appeal of Raging Bull although De Niro killed it in that one. Still, I rented the 1977 classic Rocky and by the end I was whimpering like a child. I went back to the store and swapped for Rocky II. I watched all five original movies in five nights.

I remember being stunned that Rocky did not win his first fight with Apollo Creed. All that work and training. All the obstacles he had to overcome. That montage! And yet he still loses the big fight at the end. Why? How could this have happened?! Well, I think the answer to such questions has presented itself to me recently.

I just had a job interview for a big promotion and as I'm writing this, things are still up in the air. I work overnight and my interview was in the middle of the day. Understand that this job will drastically affect my life. So I was a bit distracted afterwards and I couldn't sleep. I sometimes let a movie play in the background while I'm trying to rest and something drew my attention towards Rocky Balboa, sitting dusty on my shelf.

Once the movie started, I could not turn my attention away. These movies are mostly a series of inspirational speeches strung together by small events that carry the plot forward. With each dramatic monologue I became more and more emotional. Rocky has a million to one shot at winning this fight. He's the underdog. No one expects him to succeed. I could not help but draw some similarities to my own situation.

So what was it that made the Italian Stallion so great even though he lost in the end. Stalone has a great quote in Balboa:
"It ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward."
You have to imagine him yelling this and punching the palm of his hand. I love this quote because it shows us what is ultimately important to Rocky. He just wants to prove that he is worth something. As he often says, he wants to be able to stand toe to toe. Go the distance. There is a great scene in the first movie where Rocky is standing in the arena just before his fight with Creed. He's not there worrying about whether or not he might lose the fight. He is just noticing that on the poster for the fight they have mixed up the colors of his boxing shorts. I love watching Rocky stand there in awe of what is happening in his life.

Getting jobs, fighting that big fight, being the underdog, I often wonder about these situations in terms of faith. In churches there is this idea that if you have total faith for something to happen then it will happen. Believing God for that job or that new car. This is prevalent in secular thought as well. If you keep telling yourself that it will happen then you will get that parking spot right up front. Etc...

While I know that faith is an important part of a belief in God, I don't quite see things the same way. I don't think God just does things because we believe He will. However, I do believe God can do anything. I have faith that God is capable of fixing all my problems if He chooses to. But, you and I are more likely to go through some tough trials before that happens. That is part of spiritual growth and I think God wants that for us. He can see the bigger picture. He would rather us grow than be spoon fed.

Rocky is such a compelling character not because he knew he would win his fight. It's more accurate to say he knew he would not win. But, what kept Rocky moving forward was that he knew he could win. He could stand toe to toe. He also knew it would be a long road before he got to that place. In the end, even though Rocky loses to Creed, he proves that he has what it takes. And in Rocky II, after more hard work and another great montage, he becomes the champ.

As for me, this job is a long shot. There are a lot of odds stacked against me and I may or may not be selected. Even so, despite the odds, I believe that I could get it. And if it doesn't happen then I'm proud knowing that I had an opportunity to stand toe to toe and go the distance. My hope is that I never quit moving forward. As Rocky would say, "That's how winning is done!"

Plot Points

Story Telling - The ability to talk until you have something to say.
-Garrison Keillor

Have you ever been in the middle of telling a funny story when you suddenly realize that the story is not funny at all? In fact, it is downright stupid? Welcome to every day of my life.

I started this blog to be a starting point. It is just a plot point in a story that has been telling itself to me for many years. Since I started these short entries, I also began writing a book. So, allow me to rephrase my earlier question. Have you ever been writing a book when you suddenly realize that the story is not interesting at all? In fact, it is downright boring? Welcome to every day of my life.

All those things they say about how difficult it is to write a book are absolutely true. It is quite a lot of work. I always assumed that going into the process but I still couldn't imagine what the difficult part would be. Now I'm starting to piece some of it together.

My wife, Aly, once told me that she wished she had a better testimony. For Christians, your testimony is sort of an important thing. It is the story of how you came to follow Christ. Some people have these really elaborate stories about how they were lying in a gutter after a massive drug trip, then they heard God speak to them and dropped their needles cold turkey. Crazy stuff like that. Others can give you the exact date that they prayed a prayer and explain in detail how their life began to change from that moment on.

What troubled Aly was that she didn't feel like anyone would be interested in her story. That it was boring. This is the case for many Christians I meet who grew up in a Christian home or who were always involved with a church. They say that there is nothing to tell concerning their testimony.

I fall into this category. The story of how I got to know Jesus is fairly uneventful.

However, I would like to propose an idea that I stumbled upon. I have another friend who told me the same thing. He said that his story was just not that interesting. But every time we get together I've learned to start asking him questions and encouraging him to speak. I started because I find his stories to be absolutely fascinating. Each time we talk he has something interesting and thought provoking to share. Let me give you an example:

A few weeks ago, we were at this cigar thing that a few of my friends and I host once a month. It's a time for guys to hang out and get to know each other better. It's really not a big thing, but with every event we put together, it seems that something unique happens. Usually it's around one or two in the morning after most of the crowd has left. That's when things get interesting.

At our last event, there were seven of us left when one guy shared his own story with us. He was really struggling with some stuff and wanted our opinion. I spoke a lot, as I tend to do, and a few other guys contributed as well. Then my friend, the one with the boring story, he decided to chime in. He had the most amazing things to say. It was so personal and yet universally practical at the same time. What he said was very meaningful and I can honestly say it spoke to all of us and not just our troubled friend.

So, here is what I've learned. Your story matters. Even if you think that you have nothing of value to add to the conversation. Our stories shape who we are. There are always others who are on the same journey but just have not  reached to the same point as you. You may not have done anything really exciting in your life, but that does not mean that you haven't learned anything along the way. And it certainly doesn't mean that people are not interested.

Though it has been a challenge, my book is coming along just fine. It is a memoir of sorts so it deals with my own story. The problem I have is that I often question whether or not anyone cares what I have to say. It just doesn't seem like there is enough excitement. So I guess I'm writing this blog for me as much as for you. Thanks for reading and thanks for listening to my stories.

Note - I've included some of the pictures I've been editing from my backyard. This is where I get to do most of my writing.

The Great Gatsby - A Forward

  I was in high school the first time I read F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Even then I knew there was something I loved about this novel though I couldn't put a finger on it. You see, back then I was required to read. We would have a set number of assigned chapters and then a quiz followed by some discussion of themes. We read all kinds of great book but Gatsby was one of the few I actually finished. Back then, I was too worried about girls to read books. Maybe that was what I loved about the book.


  Since then I have revisited the novel half a dozen times. Every few years I start to forget the details and a new urge to relive this story rises up in me. It is the same feeling as remembering something that happened to you many years prior that you will never forget. "Remember the time..." For me, the experience is the same. From the first sentence I become Nick Carraway and I am remembering the events of that long ago summer. "In my younger and more vulnerable years..." and so on. I can hear the sounds of Gatsby's wild parties. I see the eyes of Dr. Eckleburg piercing my skin and revealing my secrets. I can still taste the brandy and wine on my lips.

  It interests me that this story has stuck with our culture for so long. With Baz Luhrmann's latest installment, there are now four motion pictures based upon Fitzgerald's greatest work. But what is it that keeps the story so interesting to us today? It's not like there is a particular amount of action, save a few scenes. Due to Fitzgerald's attentiveness to detail, the story will forever be captured in the hustle and bustle of the roaring twenties. And yet it speaks to us somehow. There is an element of the story that seeps out to capture our attention.

  Still, with each reading I find myself among the characters as each plot point unfolds. What I think captures my attention the most, as with many readers, is Gatsby himself. Jay Gatsby, from the moment he is introduced, has a noticeable air about him. He views the American Dream differently than ever other character. While the others get caught up in the superficiality of life, Gatsby seems to think that the world can be better than it appears. He is a true romantic. And it's Gatsby's American Dream that I see as the key component of this woeful tale. It is what leaps off the pages and has a direct affect on us, the reader. To me, that is why Fitzgerald uses Nick as his main character. Although the story of Gatsby's pursuit of Daisy is meant to hold our attention, the change that takes place in Nick is what we can really relate to. It is because that change is meant to take place in us as well.

  As the years have gone by, I have finished reading most of the books that I neglected in high school. Each has had something spectacular to say that makes me wish I had not ignored them back then. But The Great Gatsby still stands above the others to me. Maybe it is the superb writing, or maybe it just holds a special place in my heart. But I truly believe that this book will always be read. Years from now people will still be retelling F. Scott Fitzgerald's tale. Each time they do, giving new life to Gatsby's American Dream.

I Used To Go To a Church

 
          Let me start with this: I used to go to a church. You may know what church I'm talking about, or you may think you know, but may I please emphasize how unimportant the name on the sign may be. Though my own experiences have shaped the outline of this story, the building itself is merely a footnote. The truth is, if you've gone to any church, then we may in fact share the same story.

           Over the course of my life, I have been an active attendee of several churches. Although every church is different, they have a lot of similarities. A common opinion about churches is that they should function like a community or a family of sorts. Churches light up these words on signs just off the highway. They use them to identify to the world what it is they stand for. And often they are not too far off. When you frequent a place often enough, it is more than likely that you will form bonds with the people you see every week. And that's what I like about church. It ceases to be what you get out of it and becomes what you can pour into it. But that's a different story.

           It has been awhile since I've been to this particular church, but I had an opportunity recently to speak with many of my friends who also used to attend. Visiting with old friends is like dreaming of a movie that you've already lived. It is a reimagining of what was and a reflection of how you came to be the person you are today. It is both refreshing to the soul and deeply painful to the heart. The perfect blend of joy and sadness. As friends often do, we spoke of things that are only interesting to those involved in the narrative. And as it goes with most of these encounters, you begin to wonder what happened to the others. There is a vibrant cast of supporting characters in each of our stories that fade into our memories.

I must refrain from the details. I do not wish to gossip, so for the sake of those who may think they know any of these individuals I will keep things as vague as I can. But some of the details are important to the narrative.

           We told stories of extreme pain. Stories of our friends losing their grip on reality. Stories of people who were hurting and people who hurt others. It is amazing how much divorce is rampant in a place where relationships are held in the highest regard. Financial ruin, arrests, infidelity, and so on and so on.... Keep in mind, these are people that I used to see every week for years. People that I knew very well. People that I love. So it's hard to hear these stories. You want to pretend that they don't exist.

           My friend Zach told my wife recently that some people decide to go back to their college town in hopes that they can relive the time they spent there. Or something like that. I think that is true with churches too. In a community, you don't just see people every so often. You are living your life out alongside them. Life is happening. When that life is no longer available, you long for it. We had something really special while at this church and I still miss it today. Knowing what we had there together and knowing how much things have changed for the worse is difficult to take in. It is the unfortunate reality of all relationships. But there is an exception.

           The purpose of this writing is to illustrate where I think we often fail as a church community. You see, I've been witness to many people in very similar situations. When your life collapses, you need someone to keep you afloat. Often times, we Christians get a little too wrapped up in the sin of a situation. Or we think too much about the politics of how we respond. We sometimes make decisions with our gut or with a handbook rather than with our heart. I've made these mistakes and I still pay for them today. Even as I type these words I am faced with the reality of relationships that I crushed with my own actions. But I've learned a lot from those mistakes.

           We all screw up from time to time. Some of us worse than others. Some much worse. But if Jesus is our example, we must remember to grab our friends by the arm and say, "I've been there." "I'm here for you." "I know you're hurting, but I'm not letting you go." We must remain one thing above all else: a community.

           Not all stories end poorly. Many people have since left my old church and left for good reasons. It has changed for the better along with the worse. Some churches and some communities will shrivel and die in the face of adversity. But my old friends, along with the church we used to frequent, continue to persevere. That is the message of the gospel really. It is a story of redemption when there was no hope to be found. Regardless of how many people from that community are suffering today, new life awaits each one of them.

Death's Sting

Let me start by saying that I have not known very many people that have died. A few, but not many. So, I'm not exactly an expert on the subject. There are many people I know who are able to recount the feelings they had when someone they were close to ceased to be physically present in their lives. I know enough only to be sure that this is a difficult experience. But where I am well versed on the topic of death is much different than experience.

So here it is. I am afraid of death. I know I shouldn't be. As someone who believes in Jesus, I really shouldn't be. The Bible even says I shouldn't be. Yet, here I am.

Understand that I am slightly obsessive compulsive. Especially when it comes to certain things. That old saying, "better safe than sorry", I want to murder the guy who came up with that haunting phrase (which I suppose is appropriate considering the topic).

This idea of heaven and hell and "where will you end up when you die?" has torn me apart right to my core. Because I'd rather be safe than sorry in the realm of eternity. I've been to enough fire and brimstone church services that I'll be messed up for a long time. Maybe that is why I feel a sharp sense of disgust when I see these guys in black suits on the side of Davis Highway thumping their Bible at me. I know it's not their fault. They are just doing what they feel is right.

My issue is that I can't get a grasp of the guidelines involved to get into heaven. I sometimes imagine the pearly gates as a kind of nightclub where St. Peter is the bouncer. He wears dark sunglasses and is holding a trendy clipboard, checking off a list of names while a line forms out front. He's watching his ratios. This being the case, in the back of my mind there is this tiny voice.

"Are you sure you're right?" it says.
"What if you missed something"
"Maybe the KJV movement is onto something"

Sometimes it just makes me chuckle quietly to myself. Other times I am paralyzed with an existential crisis that shuts me down mentally. I'm not exagerating this. Total shutdown. Like when 007 or Macgyver pulls the right wire with 1 second left on the timer and the bomb is rendered useless. That's me.

Why am I telling you this? You see, despite my own struggle with the end, I believe in something better. I believe in a faith that is less concerned about getting a ticket to the eternal nightclub and more concerened about loving others, feeding the poor, and caring for the sick. Loving God is not a matter of what you get out of it. It's about giving something back.

Don't misunderstand me. I believe in the afterlife and heaven and hell. I really do. But I don't always agree with the presentation of the topic. I know of conversations had by myself and others dealing with eternity that were very loving and very real. They meant something. Those stories are too personal for me to share here, but it is important to note them. If you believe in God, these conversations are a reality of that faith.

God and I had a mental conversation recently. If you didn't read my recent entry about talking to God, then please note that I did not hear a booming voice from the sky. What did happen, when I was having one of these mental checks about the afterlife, was I felt a small nudging in the back of my head. It said, "I'm sorry." Then I thought, "what does God have to be sorry about?"

I think that for many years I had a slightly misguided perception of who God is. I don't blame him for it. I've just witnessed too many people try to frighten people into becoming a christian. I take issue with this. I'm tired of it. And I'm tired of being afraid.

Maybe one day I'll write about the death I have experienced in my own life. Maybe one day I'll write about growing old and slowly losing control of your life. Maybe I'll even write about losing a mental grasp of reality. But right now I have only one thing to say. I'm sorry. I'm sorry to all of you that live in fear because you worry more about eternal death than the precious life God has given to you. I'm sorry to those of you who feel you can't have a loving relationship with someone because they don't believe in God. Even more so, I'm sorry to those of you that mourn the loss of those who are close to you.

I'm sorry because I know the words of many people, who mutter the name of God in the same sentence, have not shown you a message of love but one of damnation.

There is obviously more to the topic of death than this. There is a very real discussion to be had about heaven and hell that I don't mean to downplay. There are conversations about motives and ends justifying the means and interpretation and blah blah blah.... But I'm not the right person for those conversations. Not yet at least. Just know that God loves you as you are. Now. Today. When Jesus talks in the gospels He doesn't say that the Kingdom of God will come when you die. He says that the Kingdom of God is at hand. That fact helps me set aside some of these worries.

 

Awe and Wonder

Lucas knows the air museum better than I do. He holds my hand and pulls me along to his favorite exhibits. Under Lake Michigan. Old Pensacola. The mock aircraft carrier. The moon display. And, of course, the Blue Angels. Each destination, though he has visited them many times, brings a glow of excitement to his face. He is filled with awe and wonder at the sight of the aircraft. Each one worn from years of soaring high. Now resting still under bright lights.

When I was a boy I used to dream about flying. I would watch Top Gun and wish I was piloting an f-14 Tomcat and buzzing the tower. I read a book about the Wright Brothers and thought about building my own bicycle, thinking this would somehow get me a step closer to flight. My wife had the same problem. She wanted to be the first female Blue Angel pilot.

Today I watch Star Trek and dream of boldly going where no man has gone before. I always grab the window seat when I fly commercially. I still watch the Blue Angels practice from my front lawn. I take photographs of tiny airplane models under glass.

I remember this time when I was in Central Florida. I bought a car in Tampa and was driving it back to Orlando down Interstate 4. Out of nowhere, a WWII era prop plane dashed over the busy road. I could have crashed the car the way I was straining to see it.

In the Bible, there is a book called Exodus that tells the story of Israel being held as slaves by Egypt. God performed many miracles through a man named Moses in order to set them free. From there, they traveled through the desert in search of a land that God had promised to them. Yet, no matter how many times God helped them on their journey, no matter how many miracles He performed, it seemed that they always lost sight of how powerful their God was. Few remained convinced that God would meet their needs.

Throughout Biblical history, the same story continues to repeat itself. God does something great and then His people forget it ever happened. Aldous Huxley said, "That men do not learn very much from the lessons of history is the most important of all the lessons of history."

Watching my son marvel at these works of aviation reminds me of how I felt as a kid. And though I will probably never fly a plane or land a spacecraft on some distant planet, I still have that feeling in my gut that there is something truly magical about flight. I hope I never lose the awe and wonder of a child watching the wheels of a plane separate from the Earth.

There is a Psalm, number 126, that says,

When the Lord brought back the captive ones of Zion,
We were like those who dream.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter
And our tongue with joyful shouting;
Then they said among the nations,
"The Lord has done great things for them."
The Lord has done great things for us;
We are glad.

Restore our captivity, O Lord, as the streams in the South. Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting. He who goes to and fro weeping, carrying his bag of seed, shall indeed come again with a shout of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.

In the same way, I hope I never take for granted the awesome things that God has done. Like airplanes at rest, displayed under bright lights.

 

Finding Who We Are

               Lately I have been thinking about hearing from God. Growing up in a religious environment it was always explained that you needed to sit and be still then you could hear what God was trying to say to you. Trust me when I say that I spend a lot of time just sitting and listening. Even so, I haven't been able to make out exactly what God has been trying to tell me. A few days ago, however, a question popped into my head. Am I not able to hear God's voice or is he not saying what I want him to say?

                This question caught me off guard because I knew the answer as soon as I asked it. I just didn't know what that meant for me and I still didn't know what God was trying to tell me.

                Quick back story. A little over a year ago, I had a beer with a friend of mine that I had not seen in a while. We used to go to church together and he had left a job to start his own company. I wanted to know more about it. He started by reminded me about a silly worship song we used to play at our church called "Finding Who We Are". The verse began:


In You we're living
In You we're moving
In You we're finding who we are

               He explained to me how that was his problem. His life had always lacked direction and focus. He didn't know exactly who he was. That's why he had started this company. He felt like this was closer to what God wanted for his life. Of course, I was excited for him and admired his decision. But that left me in a similar situation. Because I didn't know who I was.

                So Alyson and I doubled down. Over that next year we left a church, I quit playing music, I almost left my job, on top of having our little girl, Kaede. I fasted for the first time ever which was quite an experience. We helped start a house church while watching another church die. Yet as much as I listened I never felt like I knew what God was doing to me. Confusion is an understatement.

                Back to my original question. Was I just not hearing from God, or was He not giving me the answer I wanted Him to give?

                A youth pastor I knew used to say this verse all the time to his teens.

Matthew 6:33 (NASB)
But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

                He used to explain how that verse is often translated as "Put God first and He will give you whatever you want." Then he would translate it a different way. "Put God first and He will give you everything that you never knew you wanted."

                See, I think Christians have a problem. I think we use the Bible to try and tell God what to do. Like when a kid doesn't get what he/she wants and says to their father, "But you promised." I will let you imagine the exaggerated tone. We forget that when Jesus asked His disciples to give up everything and follow Him, what He meant was everything. That includes all the plans we had before he came along. When you follow Jesus, you can't just live out your life as if little has changed. Everything changes.

                That brings me here. Another thing I think we Christians do is to imagine this Holy purpose that God has placed on our lives. We spend so much time trying to figure out what it is that we were meant for. And I agree. I think God has a purpose for all of us. But I have spent so much time trying to find my purpose that I forgot to listen to what God was trying to tell me. He was telling me to seek Him first. Make the desire of my heart Him. After that, then He would give me purpose.

                I suppose that this works out differently for everyone. My friend who started his company has made quite a journey since then, and I envy him. As for me, the more I seek after God the more He seems to make me content with where I'm at in life. Things are going well and God seems to be giving me new opportunities that I was not looking for. Things I was running from. And I feel good about that.

                I doubt I'll ever be one of those people who hears the audible voice of God Almighty bellowing from heaven. But I think the more I learn who God is the more i recognize His leading in my life. His voice in all of this.


　
 Matthew 6:30-33 (The Message)
If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

If I Ran the Zoo

               This week I took my kids to the Zoo. Lucas has been a couple times but this was Kaede's first trip. Here in Pensacola we have two zoos within driving distance: one in Gulf Shores and one in Gulf Breeze. We opted for Gulf Shores which included a beautiful drive along the beach. The kids had a blast.

                Being a vegetarian, I have mixed feelings about zoos. Without wasting a lot of your time, let me just say one thing. I find it difficult to see animals behind cages. Granted, I have not seen 90% of these creatures in the wild, but I feel like there is something that is robbed from an animal that is not free to run. Take the lion, for example. We think of the lion as a beast that rules over other beasts. The "king" of the jungle. We have probably all watched National Geographic when a lion hunts down and kills a fleeing gazelle. To see the same power behind a chain link fence, confined to what is basically a jungle gym, takes some of the awe away from an animal so powerful.

                But this story is not about a lion. It is about a tiger and a goose.

                At the beginning of our zoo trip, Lucas spotted a bengal tiger across the lake at the entrance. We started in a different direction all the while listening to Lucas explain that he wanted to see the tiger. "We'll see the tiger in a little while, buddy," was not the correct response. However, he got over this by the time we made it to the reptile exhibit. An hour or so later we got to see the tigers.

                If you have been to a zoo, then you know that the most interesting thing you will usually see a tiger do is sleep. I have cats and that is how they spend the majority of their time as well. The Gulf Shores zoo has a total of six tigers and they were all apparently exhausted from a long day.

                What caught my attention happened when I noticed a tiger pacing along his fence, which is not unusual. But what was unusual was just outside the fence. There was a small white rabbit, enjoying a delicious vegetarian meal, and two white geese. The geese were clearly working on their tan because they were nestled into the grass. I thought to myself, "Wow! If I were a goose, the last place I would pick to take a relaxing nap would be next to the bengal tiger cage." But, there they were.

                I watched them for a little while. Took a couple photographs. Held Lucas up so he could see one of the tigers relaxing in some water. Then, as we were heading to the next exhibit, Lucas noticed the rabbit. Of course he wanted a closer look so we walked that direction. The rabbit, upon seeing the 3-year-old coming at him, darted in a different direction which caused the geese to also relocate. All of the excitement was too much for the tiger who began to pace about, watching the other animals intensely. That's when it happened. One of the geese turned around, rushed at the tiger, and let out a menacing hiss. That's right, the goose hissed at the tiger, and then went about its business. I was stunned.

                It's funny how captivity changes an animal. But to do something so outside of what I thought would be instict was rather odd. What I find more odd is my reaction to the event. See, I've been thinking about it and I can't decide if I am more like the goose or the tiger.

                First, take the goose. Here is an animal that should fear the tiger. The goose is lunch, after all. Yet, at the sight of something that the goose fears locked behind a fence, it is suddenly filled with courage. Strength. Power.

                Then, there is the tiger. The tiger should be in charge here. The goose probably would not have even seen the tiger until it was too late. The tiger is the predator. And still, as I watched this goose taunt such a powerful creature, the tiger was powerless to do anything. So an animal that the tiger would normally strike fear into now jests at the tiger.

                I have to admit, most of the time I feel like that tiger. I feel like I should be in total control of my surroundings. But sometimes the little things that I should not even bat an eye at rear their head and challenge me anyhow. And I feel powerless. I feel trapped behind chain links wishing to strike at what threatens me. But instead I just end up taking a long nap while people stop in for a minute and then head to the next exhibit.

                But, since I am being honest here, the mere fact that my fingers keep typing is proof that I am trying to change that. I have recently set a large goal in front of myself. First I told my wife about it, to make sure I wasn't totally crazy. Then I talked with a few of my close friends. Then I started telling everyone who asked. Now I can't back out of it, even though I sometimes want to. I set this goal bacause I'm scared that I can't do it.

                The point is, sometimes we have to do what scares us the most. We can't be afraid of mistakes and we can't be afraid to fail. Besides, if there is not a risk of failure then it is probably not worth doing. I sincerely do not feel capable of accomplishing my goal. However, since I intend on achieving success then I also intend to stare certain death in the face, pull back my shoulders, and charge.

Why I Love Weddings

               My friends Trevor and Brittany got married last week. I know everyone says this but their wedding was beautiful. We are all part of a small house church and everyone from our church showed up. The food was great, there was wine and dancing, and there were lots of friends. By the way, aren't they a cute couple?

                Trevor and I have a funny story of how we became close friends. We both knew each other when we were younger. I'm not exacty sure when we met but we we must have been around middle school. Maybe even earlier. We were never close friends but we knew who the other was. Later, we went to the same highschool but again we were never close even though Trevor was good friends with one of my best friendsand now brother-in-law, David. Then college and I moved away.

                When I moved back to Pensacola, Trevor and I would find each other at the same church. Seeing as we knew each other there was always "hey" and "what's up?" It wasn't until about a year later when Trevor wandered into one of my cigar Socials that we would become the good friends we are today.

                 Recounting this story with each other, Trevor told me that he thought I hated him when we reconnected at church. I thought Trevor was way too cool for school to hang out with a guyl ike me (I suppose he still is). Yet, here we are.

                I like to tell this story because Trevor and Brittany have a story that is somewhat similar, albiet much more romantic. Ok, maybe just a tiny bit similar. He tells this story better than I do so I'll only give you the highlights:

1. Trevor goes on a date with Brittany. Date goes poorly. Brittany declines date #2. Trevor is sad.
    
2. God tells Trevor to pursue Brittany. Trevor tells God that He is crazy. Trevor is rejected by Brittany many times. Trevor is sad.
   
3. Many years go by. Trevor and Brittany share a magical kiss. They fall in love. Trevor is happy.

                I hope I didn't screw that up too bad, guys.

                My wife and I have a similar story, too. A story in which I sought after her for a long time before we were finally brought together. I finally got my girl just like he did.

                 We love these stories, don't we? Hollywood has made a lot of money selling us these stories. Maybe I need to sell this story?

                As you may have guessed, this narrative also shows up in the Bible. Tell me if it sounds familiar. God and man are together in a garden. Man rejects God. God and man spend many years trying to reconnect. Thousands of years. Maybe millions. Then, one fateful day God is reunited with man as a man, Jesus. Finally, Jesus is murdered so that man can once again know God. It is the greatest love story.

                Weddings always remind me of this. I can't help it but I'm a true romantic at heart. There is a reason Jesus refers to his people as the Bride of Christ. And there is a reason that Jesus tells so many stories about weddings, brides, and bridegrooms. God is pursuing us and no amount of us running away is going to change His mind.

                I'm happy for my friends and I am happy that I could attend their wedding. I very easily could have written off Trevor as a friend just as easily as he could have given up on the love of his life. In the same way, a perfect God could have easily said, "Screw these people. I'm out of here." Thankfully, this is not the way God operates. He doesn't give up on us no matter how many times we mess up. Like the story of the prodigal son, He is always waiting for us to come back home. And when we do, there will be a wedding.


*I wish I could take credit for these amazing photographs. However, they were take by the crew at Cook Images. Check out their site:
www.cookimages.com

Collecting Stories Hidden In Smoke

                When people ask me what type of writing I do, I tell them that I collect stories. Which is true. I’ve spent the last 6 years or so sitting on my back porch surrounded by a cloud of smoke, sharing thoughts with my friends. The truth is, I don’t have many original thoughts in my head. But I suppose that I’ve always been a good listener which counts for something.

                The trouble with what I do is that it seems easy. It’s not at all difficult to sit behind a laptop punching buttons marked with letters to form words and sentences. It’s usually pretty simple to recount the things that have been told to me over the years. Sure there is a small amount of effort involved. Plus there is the time spent and the effort of turning off the television long enough to form coherent thoughts. I sure do look like I know what I’m doing.

                Do you want to know the truth? Honestly?

The reality of my situation is that I live in a constant state of anxiety and fear. I sometimes wonder why I believe some of the things that I do.  I worry that every thought I’ve ever had will amount to nothing at all. I ask questions but sometimes don’t want to know the answers. I don’t live up to expectations.

I’m afraid that I may have gotten it all wrong.

I suppose it would not be a stretch to assume someone could read my words and think that I speak from a position of authority. It would be equally as likely for someone to assume I’m full of it. But I think we often project an image onto people based on their position. Politicians, celebrities, pastors. It comes up more often in churches and religious institutions. We think that because someone is a pastor or worship leader that they have it all figured out. Their lives must be pretty great. The reality is that most of the time they are more screwed up than the rest of us. And I would know. I’ve talked with a lot of them.

I don’t mean to be critical of anyone. I simply want to take a few moments to examine myself in a way that may be constructive for others. Because I don’t have it figured out. I have conversations with a lot of people who are lost, confused, and downright pissed off with the way things are in churches or their own lives. What always stands out to me though is that many of them think there is something wrong with them when they have these thoughts. They think that they should have the answers. Not have doubts. Not be afraid.

Well, I’m here to tell you that you are not alone. I ask the hard questions all the time. Because I do not know the answers. I have doubts. I am afraid. Most of the time, I am depressed and feel a deep sense of pain in regards to where I am in life. You may be feeling some of these thoughts yourself. And that is ok.

My friend Charlie told me, “Knowing that you’re ignorant is the first step to finding something out. Ignorance of ignorance is the real problem.” I am comforted in a strange way by the fact that I am not as smart as I may come across sometimes. I think that admitting that we have a lot to learn opens us up to learning more. Especially about God. If we knew everything about God then He probably wouldn’t be that interesting. The more we question ourselves and humble ourselves, the more He can show us. And I like that idea.

 

When all is said and done, I only write with any kind of authority because I have listened to people’s stories. I have paid attention when my friends have told me the questions that they have had the courage to ask. I have been told of failures and the lessons learned from those experiences. I also have learned the lessons of my own failures. Hopefully, we can keep asking the difficult questions. I want to turn my own anxieties into something constructive and stop being afraid of what I don’t know. If you are looking for answers, I probably don’t have them. But I will keep telling stories and maybe we can find answers together.

 

A Quick Thought

                When I was a kid, one of my favorite cartoon characters was Sonic the Hedgehog. He was who got me interested in reading comic books. Not Spider-man or Batman or the Fantastic Four. He was my gateway drug of sorts. Flash forward to today. Since I work overnight, Alyson said I need to be in the sun more. Clearly she is right, so I decided to start running. I wonder now whether Sonic ever ran for fun or exercised even. Seeing as how he had to run so often to defeat Dr. Robotnik. Maybe during his off time he enjoyed sitting still.

                What I have learned to love about running is the solitude. I like running with people as well, but I take great joy in being alone with nothing but miles ahead of me. I don’t think everyone should take up running, but I do think that everyone should have time to just think. It’s very therapeutic.

There is something that can’t quite be described that happens to you when you are alone with your own thoughts. Sometimes you find understanding and sometimes you find more questions. Sometimes you dream and sometimes you reflect. No matter what I end up thinking about, I almost always feel like I accomplished a little something.

The Bible tells us that we should reflect on God’s word. I used to think this meant that I was supposed to read my Bible every day, a habit I was never great at keeping. But, when was the last time you just thought about God? I often take something that I have read a thousand times and just think about it. What does it mean? Why was it written down in the first place? What sort of personal context have I added to this passage over the years? How is God represented here? It is a lot easier to read words on paper but it takes work to chew on it and let it seep in.

If we simply fill our heads with information but never process it, what good are we accomplishing? I find it much more interesting to contribute to a conversation that has been taking place for thousands of years. I wonder what Sonic is thinking about when he’s running?

By the way, here is the view from my 5 mile run today.

On a separate note, I have decided to go see the remake of the Evil Dead. I am both terrified of the film itself and terrified that one of my favorite movies ever is about to be ruined. If you’ve seen it, drop a comment and let me know what you thought of it (no spoilers please). As Doug Benson would say, this movie is not for emetophobes. Thanks Doug.

 




For all the science nerds reading this, here is a video I came across a while back that I enjoyed. It discusses the physics behind Sonic the Hedgehog. Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYFpAeqaCrw

UPDATE: I went to see Evil Dead. Thought the film was wonderful and true to the original while still telling a unique story. Also, you should not see this film if you are the least be squeamish. It is truly terrifying. 

 

Love and the Moment

                In my experience, when you are falling in love you tend to live in the moment. You don’t process most of what occurs until after the fact. My wife and I have been married for almost 6 years and it still blows my mind that we are together at all. Not because of any particular reason other than how circumstances worked in our favor to cause our paths to cross. I’m not talking about fate here. I’m talking about specific events and their effect on our personal relationships.

                I got to thinking about this because I was listening to Chicago by Sufjan Stephens. In the song, Stephens talks about some of the places he visited and how those places changed his life over time. The subtle implication is a parallel with salvation and how God changes us from who we used to be into something new. This caught my attention.

                I have always thought of salvation as being this moment that happens. Maybe you know the drill. You say a prayer, ask Jesus into your heart, and POW! You’re a Christian. Born again. Saved. I’ve talked to many people who can remember the exact time and place that they did this. They know where they were, what they said, etc… I have often felt like I am missing out on something because I don’t know these details. I can’t remember anything about it. Yet this is such an important moment if you’re a Christian. It’s the moment that you become a new creation. Right?

   I’m starting to wonder if there is something more that is happening.

                Thinking of how I fell in love with my wife, I can remember the exact moment when I knew I was in love. We were in her car, a 1986 Volvo, and we had just gone for a walk on the beach. Just the two of us trying to spend some time together. When we got back in the car from our walk, she leaned over and kissed me then said that she had something to tell me. I knew exactly what she was about to say and I knew at that moment that I loved her too. It is a moment that I’ll never forget. But what I realize now is that I loved her before we said it out loud. I had loved her for a long time. But it wasn’t until that exact second, looking into her eyes, that I became aware that it was true.

                You see, falling in love is not something that happens when you say the words. In fact, I’m sure that many of us have told someone we love them when it may not have been true. As you spend time with someone, share life with someone, and get to know someone on a deeper level, you fall in love over a period of time. It is something that changes you. But there is still a moment when you realize it’s true. When you express this feeling with words. Because our relationship with Jesus is just that: a relationship. I speculate that it may work the same way. As you get to know the person of Jesus and build a relationship with Him, that is when you are falling in love. And then there comes a moment when you realize that it’s true. There is a moment when you feel the need to express that love in words. This sparks an interesting question: when did you get saved? Did it happen the moment you prayed a prayer?

                I only ask this question because I want to better understand the transformation that happens in the life of a Christian. Having a relationship with Christ implies that you know Him on some level. So, if you just say a few words but they have no meaning, then it doesn’t seem like love to me. It can’t be a magic spell that grants you admittance into heaven. Salvation is a change in who you are. Actually becoming a new creation. Something different than what you were before. As we get to know Jesus, He changes our hearts in a similar way to when we fall in love. Our priorities begin to change. We begin to care more about someone other than ourselves.

                Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that the moment that you ask Jesus to save you is not important. In fact, it is deeply important. After all, what would it be like if you got married but never told your significant other that you loved them? But I want to believe that salvation is deeper and more special than we may have previously made it out to be. The moment you pray that prayer is when you come to the realization that you are in love with your Creator. It is the moment when you realize that you have been cultivating a deep relationship and that you may in fact be in a place that you didn’t even realize you had reached. You may have fallen in love.


Listen to Chicago by Sufjan Stevens at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azGIf74ICmw

The Dangers of Loving Others?

                My friend Zach is often taken advantage of but not because he is gullible or unintelligent. This happens because he is that good of a person. If I'm being honest, he sometimes makes me feel a little like a jerk by comparison. Zach simply feels a need to help people in need.

                One time Zach and I were at a gas station. A guy came up and asked for gas money. He and a friend were trying to get somewhere, I can't remember. Zach gave the guy $5. Next thing we know, the guy gets in a car with another guy and they drive off laughing. Another time, I saw Zach give money to a guy on a street corner. 10 minutes later, we drove by the same corner and saw the guy sitting on the same curb with a beer. Zach was robbed twice by a homeless man that he let sleep in his house (for more about this story, visit the link at the bottom). I can't help but ask myself how he continues to give when presented with these disheartening results.

                My own stories have a slightly different overtone. One time, a homeless man approached me in a Subway parking lot and asked if I would buy him a meal. I said I was sorry that I couldn't help him, but the truth was that I just couldn't be bothered at the moment. At other times, I have avoided people I knew were living on the streets because I wanted to avoid having an uncomfortable conversation with someone who might be a little bit crazy. I also used to have a personal rule to never give money to the homeless, only food so they could not buy beer or cigarettes.

                So, whose story is better?

                Let me present one last story. I was in Burger King with my family. While waiting in line, a woman walked in with her young son. She was dressed somewhat provocatively which automatically made me begin to draw a conclusion to the type of person she might be. But she came in followed by a man in a wheelchair. Coincidently they sat at the table next to ours and I began to realize what was happing at their table. She had seen the man, who was homeless, out by the side of the road. She invited him into the restaurant and not only bought him a hot meal but also sat at the table and ate with him. They said a prayer for their food and told each other stories about themselves just like they were new friends. I couldn't believe it. I felt so ashamed because I realized that I would probably never do something like that. And here was this woman, following one of God's greatest commandments while teaching her son to do the same by example.

                We tend to think of the homeless as needy. Needy in a way that requires shelter, food, warmth, or clothing. We avoid giving these things because we don't want people to take advantage of us. We don't want to be duped. We feel that we can't trust those we fear and don't understand. But, I'm coming to realize that there is more to it than this. What if people are needy in a different way?

                The needy don't always need to be given things in a conventional sense. They need to be shown God's love. That's what Jesus commands us to do, after all. Who says that the right thing to do isn't to buy a homeless man a pack of cigarettes? Who says you can't buy an alcoholic a beer when he or she is shaking from pain and withdrawal? But let me take it even further than that.

                There is a relational component that gets lost when we encounter the homeless, drifters, and others on the streets. Maybe a lot of it has to do with the environment that we meet in: traffic intersections, underpasses, parking lots. Or maybe, we just can't be bothered with that part of it. Sure, there is a certain level of risk that you take when dealing with needy persons, but is that risk worth following one of God's greatest commands. Maybe we need to spend more time getting to know people. Talking to them, having lunch with them, sharing our stories with them. That's all some people are looking for. Someone to listen to them. Someone to actually care about them.

                 Taking chances is part of what makes love what it is. Loving unconditionally means that you stop thinking about how the outcome will affect you. For every time that my friend Zach has had a bad experience, he has also seen someone blessed by his actions and therefore seen God's love. That's what keeps him from giving up on people. The good that he has done outweighs the deception that has been dealt to him and he doesn’t regret a thing. That is one of the things that I admire about him. He is not afraid to pay the price of making the world a little bit better. I have realized how few people I have loved because I was afraid of the risks. And I'm learning to stop being afraid.

                I recently had an interesting conversation with a man who was hitchhiking from Naples, FL to New Orleans. He had been sleeping outside in the cold and had been to several churches asking for help. This is where I met him. He told me about how many pastors had sent him away, asked him for money, and in one case had him arrested. Then he said, "If God is like that, then fuck God. I don't even want to meet him." It makes me wonder how many people have a poor impression of God because I couldn't be bothered.

                Jesus ate and drank with the people that others wanted nothing to do with. Then he told us that whatever we do to the least of these, we also do to Him. He also told us the story of the Good Samaritan. Something I seem to forget about that story is how the man who was beaten feels at the end. He probably leaves this story with a very different perspective on who God is and how we relate to each other. I for one am trying not to make the same mistakes again.

 

Zach’s story is at:
http://www.reddit.com/r/IAmA/comments/jfre3/iama_guy_who_let_a_homeless_guy_stay_at_my/

Searching For Peace

                Lately I have been thinking a lot about the word "peace" and what that means exactly. I feel that I have taken this word for granted in that I have always assumed a good grasp on its definition. However, the more I think of how the word applies to my life and the lives of those around me, the more I begin to question my own understanding of the word. Here are some thoughts I have on the subject:

                The first thing that comes to mind when I think of peace is the word "rest". I imagine a sea that is amidst a raging storm and, in this instance, peace would be when the waves come to a rest. When the sea becomes still. This is not only a metaphor used in scripture but also something that we see Jesus actually do. After all, He is supposed to be the Prince of Peace. Yet, for me, I can't seem to find rest at the moment. And even though I consider myself to be a follower of Jesus, I'm not quite sure how to find peace. For me, the sea continues to rage.

                Recently, I heard a story of a man who called himself the Peace Pilgrim. He adopted the name from a woman who traveled around the country with no possessions for over 22 years trusting that God would provide for her. Her successor, the new Peace Pilgrim, set out on his own journey and lasted three days before he gave up and went back to his own life. This is interesting because he was on a journey for peace but found his situation to be too overwhelming for him to continue. Even though he did not accomplish what he set out to do, he ended his journey no longer troubled by the worries that caused him to begin his trek This begs the question, did he give up on peace or did he find peace? (For the full story of the Peace Pilgrim, listen to This American Life #483) http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/483/self-improvement-kick

                Also recently, I had a discussion with a friend of mine. He was recounting his own struggle of finding peace. He could not reconcile all the bad things we face as people with his own thoughts on Christian spirituality. He told me that he was no longer concerned with whether or not he went to heaven or hell. That his only concern was to follow Jesus teachings by loving others and showing them God's love. He asked me if I thought he was still a Christian. The question still puzzles me as I type these words. Because to me, there is something liberating about not concerning yourself with the truly unknown, but at the same time, my friend is deeply troubled and not at all feeling rest from the thoughts going through his head.

                So, one of my favorite books of the Bible is Ecclesiastes. It is a fascinating book in that it almost seems to be contradictory of itself. The author continually tells us that all endeavors we may undertake are meaningless. Some translations use the word "futile" or "striving after the wind", or that everything is like "vapor". Yet, the author then turns around to tell us that we should enjoy life and the gifts that God has given us. Even though he just told us that it was meaningless. So which is it?

                There are two types of things, according to Ecclesiastes. There are things that are finite. You, me, the world we live in, everything under the sun. Then, there is God who is infinite. My friend who asked me about his own salvation, he also asked me why Jesus is important. And the same with my understanding of peace, I think I have taken for granted the importance of Jesus amongst all the things that we talk about as Christians. Jesus is the hope that we can have peace. If everything is meaningless, then nothing we do on earth will ever amount to anything more than what happens when it happens. Then, like vapor, it vanishes in the wind. Yet, Jesus gives us the hope that heaven can indeed exist here on earth. That maybe we can bring a little bit of the infinite here to the finite.

                So for me, I still find it hard to let my mind be at ease. Emotional peace still seems like a distant relative of mine that I see once every few years at the family reunion. Someone I care about deeply but not someone I ever get to know very well. At the same time, I feel at ease knowing that Jesus is bringing peace into my life. I feel the waves becoming calm even as they continue to crash over the side of the boat. That thought I can take comfort in. I’ve tried to stop worrying about finding peace, and all the other things that pass like vapor, and start thinking about what God is doing in my life and how that effects my relationship with Him and those around me. Peace only comes when you give up trying to accomplish it on your own and let God bring peace to your life. After all, He is called the Prince of Peace.