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It was 3am when we landed, and we still had a three and a half hour drive in front of us. Luckily, neither of us were responsible for the driving. Before the (second) trip began, our destination being Morton, IL, I got my first "Oasis" experience. Here in the Mid-West, is Illinois considered Mid-West?, they have these stops along the freeway that look like an overpass but instead of being a bridge for cars, it's a covered mini-mall-food-court complete with Starbuck's, McDonald's, and others restaurants, and oh yeah, a gas station. Unfortunately for us, the only thing open at, now 4am, was McDonald's and nothing looked too appealing even at that hour.
The drive continued with the occasional conversation which, like it always does, seems to always end with no distinguishable, yet mutually agreed upon signal.
Next stop was Judy's, a little diner with old metal signs surrounding the eating area and all for sale with what must be a holiday discount. I had eggs and hashbrowns and a hot chocolate. Our waitress was very nice.
When we reached our destination, our in-laws house, I went upstairs and went fast to sleep.
Since then I've played a round of disc golf on my first Mid-West 18 hole course, watched two movies, three episodes of Grey's Anatomy, played two games of Carcassonne (look it up, it's a great game), sat through three present openings, a church service, and washed the same dishes about three times.
In Summary: I love my brother and sister-in-law. They are great people to be around. I'm not sure if it feels like whatever Christmas is supposed to feel like, but it does feel like family. I miss my family and wish I could be with them, but this is a good alternative. I'm not sure if I'm ready to staff Urbana, but here we go. I think I've come up with a good New Year resolution, but I'll post that later.
Here I am at an independent (free-trade-promoting/selling) coffee shop in downtown Bakersfield listening to Brett Dennen on Pandora writing a blog while utilizing the shop's free wi-fi. If this isn't the perfect moment in my blogging life...
Recently, at work, that's my CAD Assist* work, I've been listening to some podcasts. Here are my top two favorites so far.
- Jacob Wobbrock talks about relational truth
(This guy has a great grasp on filling in all the reality behind the clicke "it's not a religion, it's a relationship." For anyone who thinks the church is hypocritical in this claim, here's a good talk on what at least we hope we are pursuing.)
- Conrad Gempf
(This one requires iTunes and a little searching, it's a two part series entitled "Luke 7:36-49" & "In the Court Yard." If good storytelling does it for you listen and enjoy)
Those observant among you will realize that both these links are associated with Emergent, one from the states and the other from our friends across the pond in the UK. Last year I discipled a student who if you mentioned "emergent" reacted like you had just spit in his face, and although he isn't catholic, pretty much did all but cross himself in response to the contageous evil spraying from the term. Needless to say, the Emergent movement brings with it as much controversy as any new...uh...emerging "fad" of Christianity. It seems you either love or hate, let's see: dancing, rock guitars and drums in worship, 40 days of Purpose, 7 ways to be soooo successful or the best you or how to dance, and now Brian McClaren, just a second while I cross myself. Here's what I love about the Emergent Conversation, as "they" would call it: It's a conversation. People are in dialogue about some serious issues like homosexuality, justice and the poor, Jesus and politics. Anytime those seen as religious are able to have intellectual conversations about something that has ramifications outside the doors of our safe church haven, without shouting or dividing immediately, I'm for it.
Here's the deal, anytime open dialogue happens, it sure sounds a lot more like relationship than religion. If we can talk about things with people who disagree with us, we're actually allowing for relationships to happen, instead of forcing doctrine or dogma down peoples throats. I just as strongly agree that we need to hold our beliefs intact, I do believe certain things are absolute truth, and if I were to give those up I would cease to bring anything to the relationship. However, holding too tightly to those ideas, so tightly that I can't talk about their validity rationally, is a symptom of fear. Fear that I might end up loosing those convictions or worse, allowing somebody else to believe that I'm actually condoning something I'm against. Love allows for vulnerability which says I'll hold on to my beliefs / convictions lightly knowing that the truth is stronger than my grasp to it. I trust that Jesus will be responsible to affirm truth, not my ability to reason. Perhaps that vulnerability, that love, will allow somebody else to loosen their grasp on what they believe is truth, and in that moment, that perfect moment of relationship, the Truth will set us both free.
*I have finally given in to the reality that I am not an Architect's Assistant. I'm not sure that even sounds better than CAD assistant. All I do is draw lines. 5 years of Architecture school at one of the top public architecture colleges in the nation, and now lines, lots of lines....
Pandora.com is currently my favorite web site. Check out this blog by a good friend from whom I learned about the site. About a week ago the office internet at MS Walker went down and with it all our SPAM and web filtering. I had tried to access Pandora at work but it only received the infuriating "Access Denied" page to delight my screen. However, through some fluke, dare I say divine intervention, once the internet problem at work was resolved, I have full access to Pandora and all it's treasure. For the last six days of work I've listened to music non-stop. Result: increased CAD proficiency, positive worker moral, minor embarrassing moments of being caught either singing along or breaking into a drum solo. This may just be the best music site ever. Listen to this for a while if you want. It's a station based on about six different artists.
I am not a planner. Let me rephrase that: I make plans, but I never actually expect then to happen. I don't mean the whole, never have expectations so that you never get disappointed, which is actually never admit that you have expectations and then when those don't get met, pretend like your not disappointed, stuff it down deep inside you and wait until it finally bursts out and either ruins a relationship or remains inside but turns you into a bitter monster.
No, I have plans, I have expectations, but I'm just used to them getting changed. Let's stay on the surface here. I'm talking about plans like you and me and Jeremy will meet at 2:00 and then go do this and then this which fits perfectly into the allotted time that we have before the babysitting is up. But then, inevitably, You, Me, and Jeremy becomes You, Me, Jeremy, Peter and Steve. And 2:00 becomes 2:30 and maybe even a little later. And if we're lucky, we still get to go play nine wholes instead of 18.
This I am used to. I admit, I even am often the instigator of such "transformations" to the plan. Let me just say for the record, I realize that this totally irritates those who are much better at keeping to the plan. I'm sorry. I apologize. I'm working on it, but part of me, deep down, has already accepted the fact that this will probably never change about me. It's something that I think is good in some cases, and not so good in others.
Now, let's try to par today huh?
Every Sunday I think about this, which probably speaks more about my own spirituality and self discipline than anything else, why don't they just give in and buy a sign? I know the intentions are good and this totally works for people. Shoot, it works for me, when I am feeling totally reverent to somebody or something, I guess I stand. But here's the confusion: The only other time that I can think of in this culture when we stand is at concerts or at the end of performances or a show. I know that many of the people in church are from a different generation than myself and have it built in that standing up is a sign of respect. So, if me standing up at church during worship is only to stand in unification with those worshippers who stand, I'm all for it, and for all I know, that should be as far as I think about it, now accept it and move on.
But there seems to be something more, at least I like to make something more out of it. Somewhere, deep down, I feel manipulated. Is it just my ego saying, "Hey, I'm an individual. I make my own choices, I'm not feeling the spirit enough to raise my hands right now, so I'm not going to"? Is it my fear saying, "If you don't stand you are less spiritual, and everybody else is taking notes right now and you will forever be known as the rebellious punk who thinks he's too good to stand up, we should pray for him." Or, this one's my favorite, because it requires no conviction or repentance on my part, it's my amazing discernment saying, "This is not authentic worship. Not everybody worships this way. It's forcing people to only express themselves through this culture's traditions and instead of creating members of the body, it's creating conformists who have the inability to truly experience communion with the Father."
This isn't fooling anybody that may walk in off the streets, which they probably wouldn't because they'd have to get through the maze of new construction, welcome tents, and registration cards where they will be made to feel like everybody is so nice to me but I bet it will only last as long as this forced five minute conversation and then I'll just learn to act like I know where I'm going and then nobody will ever say hello to me accept when they are forced to by the infamous 'greet your neighbor' command when again nobody really even knows my name or offers there's after which I feel awkward because when is it socially acceptable in this new group to sit down and can I really even meet somebody anyway in thirty seconds and no I won't raise my hand because I'm new so you can give my your program that's supposed to replace meeting a real person and why is everybody standing now did I miss the sign?? where's the sign?? oh there it is, hey that's helpful.
I just heard this news on the TV and I am seriously sad. This man seemed so gentle and loving. I'm sure towards the end of most conversations something will slip in about how it should have been expected, but regardless, this is very sad.
I don't like the fact that I am obsessed with new things. Blame it on our consumer culture or my "that's mine" pride, but it's ridiculous. I can hide the more blatant appearances of the "gotta have it" ego because I simply can't afford it, which makes me feel the ever popular false humility. However, it's always the small stuff that sneaks through my look-like-a-christian filter. This week it's the shampoo and body-wash. I'm one of those people who has never settled on a particular brand, or if I do I'm always checking out the new releases. I've got the old spice deodorant but that Axe looks so cool and have you seen the commercials? Shameless, entirely shameless. I'd never give into such low, women degrading, marketing, but...well I wouldn't buy it because of the commercials, just the price, sure...
But I digress, this is how it works:
For the first time in a long while I actually remembered to get some new body wash and shampoo before I was completely out. I bring it home, but it in the shower, and now it takes every ounce of will power to keep using the old stuff until it's gone. Why is that? Nobody will even know that I'm using the new stuff, but darn it, I want to use it so bad. What's going on here? It's wasteful to use the new stuff, it's not logical, it's soooo tempting though. I don't even know what the temptation is? So of course, I'm using the old shampoo and body wash, and feeling really smug about it, but I'm using it more liberally than ever before. It takes more shampoo now that I just shaved my head, wait that's stupid.
My nature is lame.
I just won these two beauties on eBay; my first disc golf purchase. I've only played four times, all on the same 9-hole course in San Luis Obispo two days before my wedding, but I immediately loved it. I have to clarify that it was the first time that I had played "disc" golf, which is distinctly different than "frisbee" golf, and if you're around serious "disc" people they may throw their "disc" at you if you call it a "frisbee." If the "disc" hits you, you'll immediately learn the difference between said "disc" and a "frisbee." although the "disc" and "frisbee" are often the same mass, the "disc" is smaller and harder and more painful when "caught" by any part of the body. As soon as the "discs" arrive, I'm going to go play here.
Today Tina and I had two new tires put on the car, then Tina went to the optometrist, then we went and bought a hairdryer with a really cool diffuser on it, and then we got our pictures developed. The best part is, we did all of that at one store. Costco is ridiculous. It's amazing. It's the only place I know of where you can by a crib and a coffin, or where you buy enough alcohol for a ship of sailors and a car. Us Americans can get season 2 of Lost, a high-def DVD recorder to watch it on and record season 3, a frickin' huge 65" high def plasma flat screen TV to watch it on, a nice leather couch to sit on to watch the entire season. Then after starring at a plasma screen for all 1056 minutes of season 2, you can buy this nice luxury cherry casket to lay your body in.
I could have gone on for longer, but I'm supposed to go to bed. I seriously wanted to get something from every category on the website.
I love that God decided to use bread and wine as a part of a communion. I'm going to go have some right now. Not for communion, but just because I love bread and wine.
Here I am at the Grand Canyon sporting a very attractive "shirt rag" to keep the heat off. It's all about depth here at the GC (that's what all the hip chaps call it, or so I uh...made up). I love the effect looking into a big whole has on the mind. I think it's most staggering because I rarely ever have so much space defined for me. I see freaking huge buildings and am totally impressed. I've seen the zoom-out at the end of Indiana Jones - Raiders of the Lost Ark when they show the massive warehouse, and been shocked by the enormity of the space. I've looked out of an airplane window and seen hundreds of miles stretching out into a slight curve. But, only at the Grand Canyon am I still freaked out by the sheer amount of space. I had to continually look at it just to make sure of what I'm not quite sure. I don't think my mind could comprehend how much space I was trying to grasp. How many pennies? How much water? How many McDonald's PlayPen balls? How long would it take to fill it with trash? To find the answer to the last one go here. I want to go back and hike down to the bottom, we didn't get to do that this time. It's funny how many signs there are telling you not to try to hike down and back in the same day. My favorite was a poster that asked you if you could run a marathon, and then went into detail about the fate of a woman who could yet died trying to make the round trip. But come on, I've hiked, like, at least once this year, and only had to stop once going up Bishop's Peak, I'm sure I could make it.
For this post I decided I would try to find some image and then hopefully inspiration would lead me to write some fantastic blog. I think I'm totally misunderstanding the whole point of a blog right now. Ah...screw it.
This is something that I want to be a part of. Ever since I started architecture school I hoped there would be some niche for me. I never felt like I fit in completely with all the other design students. My dad doesn't run his own firm, I've never worked a day in an office, I actually make fun of corporate people. (Except when I'm around my friends who work at big corporate places, but that's another post.) I love to design. Period.
My biggest struggle throughout school was trying to convince myself that architecture isn't just a luxury. It has practical applications for the average person. I want to believe there is power is creating great space. I want to believe that architecture can help transform things. Life is better when there is design. Somewhere along the bridge between art and architecture there is a path that people can walk that inspires change, provides perspective, and allows for a spark that could lead to transformation, even redemption. I've read a book about how the built environment effects the soul. It was convincing and a little "out there." These people see architecture how I want to. So do these.
I love this sound. Good harmony, good music, simple sound. Sometimes I wish I was a millionaire just so I could buy all the music that I wanted. I make myself feel justified by how appreciative I am of the creative spirit. Maybe I just want to surround myself with things I like that will in turn justify my own existence and validate my value. That's what I was thinking of the other day. I mean I was thinking about the internet and how there has to be a blog or fan site or club for just about everything. No longer is anyone alone. If you think Harrison Ford should be president, or you always misuse quotation marks, or you're obsessed about when you might die, you can find other people on the web to validate you.
The down side is that the more everything gets documented and broadcast, the more things get labeled, the easier it is to label me and stick me a group with about fifty other people "that are" exactly the same. Which reveals the dilemma I have of wanting to be validated by a particular group, yet not wanting to be defined by all of what gets attached to that group.
My theory is that it is this type of thinking that is one of the primary causes of division in the church. It is also this thinking that causes people to attend church but not get too involved. Our culture perpetuates this thinking and instead of the church sticking to the gospel and portraying the unity of believers, it fragments. Instead of offering a haven to those who are looking to be valued as individuals, it becomes another factory of similarity, a group from which you will be defined in order to be accepted.
So this is all I have to show for my months of absence from the blogging scene. No, I haven't been playing this game with the millions of other MMORPGers, although, truth be told, I honestly can't say that I wouldn't want too. For some reason I really love the idea of these games and have a hard time not secretly envying my friends who get good at these games and still retain a somewhat normal level of socializing in the real world. I also secretly fear that I could easily become addicted and become a total escapist.
I'd like to spend this entire blog ranting about how married life is and what a huge step it's been and all of the crazy revelations I've had about life now that what seemed to be it's most incredible goal has been obtained, but I'm still a little confused to be honest. All I have for now is that marriage changes absolutely everything and yet, it doesn't change anything at all. That sounds even lamer that it did in my head. I hate it when somebody says something like that in an attempt to sound deep and profound. Now that I married my conscious has a voice and it says, "No World of Warcraft for you. James, don't give him the password." Bugger.
I hate that I sometimes write two or three sentences and then think about how it's going to be read, then delete them and start over. I hate that I hold back even on a blog where only about four people really know who I am. I buy the illusion that if nobody actually knew who I was then I could say whatever I wanted, but then I realize that none of the stuff I said would even matter.
So what do I want. I censor myself all the time but what I really want is to be totally uncensored and be accepted. Let's get real general real quick: that's what everyone wants, to be exactly who they are and have that be enough.
I've been challenged recently, usually in the form of some sentence packed neatly between mouth fulls of random conversation. I'm hungry for some hard truth. I think I actually crave some righteous discipline. I want somebody to have some word for me, a hard one to say, but a good one with some mustard on it. (Bendemire, if you ever read this, I got that from you.)
I want to hurt again, but with a purpose. Not the hurt for the sake of pain, but the hurt for the sake of healing. Maybe this is my blue period, but I'm living with the paradigm that good quality life soon comes at the expense of risk and cost now. That's generic, but not to be confused with "no pain, no gain."
I just read part of a friends blog who doesn't know that I am aware that she is the author. It's ridiculously honest and my heart longs for the same authenticity. I saw it in a woman this weekend that we blessed as she left IV staff to go to Nigeria, I believe, to help run an orphanage or something. This woman, ironically also mentioned in my friends blog, possesses the same authentic quality where the moment you here her speak and her eyes see yours, you know deep down this is the real deal.
Both of these women seem amazing to me because although I know they struggle with being real and honest about themselves, they are beyond me and I cannot deny how much I could learn from them. They both have my deepest respect. I trust my life in their hands.
What's confusing for me is understanding how I feel about that. I don't know what to call it. It is an attraction, but more like a..... Here, it's like I know that if I would follow this crazy light it would lead me to the source and it is through my craving for the source that I am delighted in them. This delight in no way compares for my desire for the source, yet it is still a good delight because I know that it is one bestowed on them by the source.
Hm.
just a quick note...after spending the last week at FUMP (Fresno Urban Mission Project) with a bunch of students I committed to attempting to "establish justice at the gate" Amos 5:15
Sometimes I feel so self-conscious it's ridiculous. My friend sent me this cartoon that I thought was really clever-crazy-creative. But I just now realized how much I feel like the person in the cartoon. I'm always stepping back in perspective to see what's going on. After I do something, I step back and look at it. It's like being a soccer player scoring a goal, then stepping back to the person who made the assist, then stepping back to the crowd, the mom, the coach, then stepping back to outside the sports complext and wondering about the people watching, then stepping back to the city, and so on. Eventually you get to great questions about humanity and existance, which for a while make me feel really good because I'm pondering great things. But eventually I desire to kick the ball again and I'm not sure if I can get back there, or if anybody even knows what I'm talking about after all that. Then I fear that maybe the reason I even step out of the game is because I'm afraid, and then I step back to the crowd wondering why is that guy afraid, then I step back to humanity and get lost again. I'm a spiral. Here's the cartoon.
This is a picutre of an outfit this lady created in order to keep the cow from being abducted. Part of the caption read, "You can't take what you can't see." So true. I stole the picture from this great web site. This is one of the funniest sites I have ever seen. This is what makes the internet so great.
Another disappointing Sunday. I find that again I spent the day distancing myself from the "christian culture image." In addition to not wearing faith proclaiming shirts or plastering my car with clever bumper stickers, license plate covers, fish, etc, I sit in a Sunday service and I act like an outsider. This Sunday is another compelling argument to what? To try harder. All we Christians seem to say is that we need to be better at... we need to think more... we need to act more like... we need to actually believe more... we need to be more... But the question I don't ever seem to feel like is answered very well is how. How? I feel like I just sat through a mental bashing that attempts to compel me to be more psychologically conditioned to respond a specific way in an particular situation. That doesn't sound very liberating. No wonder the church is avoided by those who are struggling with anything. They already know they are incapable of psychologically conditioning themselves to do anything. How about the suffering, the addicted, the hopeless, the helpless, the homeless. Our message of trying harder is only a slap in the face. Maybe we throw out a "Jesus is the answer" and it's "by His power we can accomplish all things." But that's the extent of the message. Where's the how? Until the How gets manifested through a loving community that loves first and asks questions later I don't see how anybody would believe that Jesus is worth anything more than a catchy slogan that both isolates and patronizes. And lets not forget the multitude of true believers who instead of being encouraged and blessed, they get a western-ized slap in the butt that disappointingly concedes "try harder next time." Let's teach people to fish, not just tell them they're supposed to be good fisherman.
Riding home from the gym I discovered why I have such a hard time making hard decisions. I had to have passed at least twelve fast food restaurants. Everything I could ever want is at my fingertips. All I have to do is have some money, and I can have whatever I want, however I want it, and there is this whole lower-middle class of people who have to serve it to me. I am in complete control of everything. Until a tough decision comes my way.
Which Christian decided that in every situation there is a right choice and a wrong choice? Maybe it wasn't a Christian, but somewhere in my upbringing I subconsciously adopted that belief. I know it wasn't my parent's fault, they are smarter than that. Somewhere, perhaps my own fallen-pride-arrogant complex, I simplified everything into right or wrong. But that seems to be rarely the case these days. Things are so complicated. I just made a huge decision that had good and bad things, right and wrong, about both options. I chose the one I thought was best. But I chose into loosing control of certain things, and I think that's what both scares the crap out of me and simultaneously gives me the greatest sense of liberty.
Maybe we American's, under the great quest of capitalism and consumerism and purchasing power, are unknowingly heading away from freedom. We are moving towards total control, and total lack of liberty. How ironic we are indeed.
It's that feeling when you've stayed up super late and haven't moved for the last three hours. The invention of the computer is weird in that you can do so much without moving anything but your fingers. My mind is telling me that I have just accomplished an amazing task and written someting possibly worthy of being published, yet my body says, "What...uh... you're still awake? Dude, I shut down ages ago. You want me to do what now!!? (do the question marks or exclamations usually go first?? anyone?)"
So here I sit. I'll convince my body to move and go to bed, after I convince it it's not already there.
I'll continue my search for meaning and purpose tomorrow. Now I must sleep.
I have a complaint to make. It's not acceptable to be sad. Since when is it that? It's like we believe if somebody is sad it's because something is wrong. If something is wrong, it's because there is a problem. If there is a problem, we can and must do everything to fix it. If somebody is sad for longer than, I guess a second, it's because somebody isn't fixing something. Not being able to fix something is wrong. We're American's darn it. We sent people to the moon. We invented light bulbs. We invented penicillin. We can fix anything. Why are you sad? You are not reinforcing the American Dream if you are sad. You are denying our super power to fix everything. STOP BEING SAD!! You're making me uncomfortable. If you were a good person you wouldn't be sad. If you were smarter, you wouldn't be sad. If you just had more faith, you wouldn't be sad.
Maybe if we didn't have a society where the only people who at least pretend to listen charge over $120 an hour, less people would be sad, or at least if they were sad they would feel okay to share it with the group and not fear being an outcast.
Why is it that whenever I'm trying to think of something I can't remember it: a song I really like and would like to purchase now, a book I'd like to read but the second I entered the library it vanished, what I'd like to get for Christmas or my birthday, which actually is today (although its 1am on what still feels like the 28th), and other things, like how to end a sentence with an actual strong point.
I'm getting older tomorrow. I guess that's how it works. We celebrate birthdays weird here in the west, I guess it's because we disregard the old as useless. Ironic that we are all at a pretty crisp pace heading towards that faithful end towards "uselessness."
I never know what to do for my birthday. Everyone always asks and I never know what to respond. And then they get disappointed if you don't have any good answers. It's like people are disappointed in you for not having planned a huge event and taking advantage of the "Well it's your birthday you should get to do everything you want, right?" clause. Which, by the way, doesn't exist. The moment you invoke it is the moment it disappears.
I'm going to sleep, my writing is starting to stink.
I realize that I don't really have a process that I follow to make a decision. Well, that's not entirely true; I don't have an intentional process that I follow. All I know is that at some point I'm making a decision and often I don't feel prepared, or worse, I do and I'm still not sure if I'm doing the right thing.
My mom always reminds me of this time when I was a kid. I still remember it as if it were yesterday. I had to choose between going on a week trip with my family that happened every year, one that I really enjoyed, or staying home and going to a friends birthday party and doing some other things. I think it was my first ever big decision. I distinctly remember standing in between our kitchen and the living room and complaining, "Why do I always have to make hard decisions?" I was almost in tears.
Now a decade or more later the only difference is that I don't tear up, at least when anyone is watching. Why do I have to make all the hard decisions? Does it even matter what I do. I won't be crazy, I won't be totally irresponsible, I won't be stupid. Tell me that it really doesn't matter what I do as long as it makes me happy. Tell me that it's okay to just make a decision because God's in control anyway and He's going to make use of you wherever you are. Tell me any of those things and I'll laugh in your face. I don't know. I want to believe that because I thought about something for ten days and then decided something, that that process makes the decision better than if I had decided the same thing with only two days of thought. Now that's crazy.
I'm not smart enough to make big decisions, but I am smart enough, I think, to realize that it's better for me to make them then let somebody else. In the long run, I will be a better person more capable of making hard decisions. My life will be more enjoyable than if I just do whatever the smartest person in the room tells me to do. Maybe the smartest person in the room could tell me and I could just say that's what I was thinking anyway. There I go again wanting my to eat my cake. I want somebody else to live my life, but I want to live it. That's an interesting complex that's got to have some cosmic ramifications. Or I'm just like everybody else.
