Friday, February 27, 2009

Gridlocked

This morning, a guy stands on the ledge of the I-96 bridge overlooking the morning traffic passing beneath. Takes a breath, then jumps into the rapidly moving traffic. 96 is usually jammed up, why couldn't it have been today? I get to school and sit down and this girl comes in shrieking after receiving a text from one of her friends who were on the scene looking at the scattered parts of the jumper. She starts laughing and shouting. Like some girl who just missed Conan O'Brien getting coffee at Starbucks, she is upset, she missed the excitement. Some of the other girls join in, saying they had just passed there and barely missed it. Are you serious? I say. That isn't funny. A guy hates himself so much to end his life, putting unsuspecting motorists at risk as well. And laughing erupts? Sometimes I wish I lived somewhere else. Somewhere where life is respected...all life. Somewhere where we don't take for granted all of the blessings God has generously and graciously given us. I doubt, the cars that smashed into this man are laughing or glad they made it for the show. I doubt the family of the dead are laughing now that they lost their son, their friend, their relative. I don't know what the issue is, whether it is selfishness, or entertainment violence, or neither, or both, but why?









Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Fears

Early in my life, I had only known two fears, Nuclear holocaust and airplanes. When I was young, we lived next to a park that I played in everyday. At this park is where I met Tom. Tom was a young man in his early twenties who used to sit in that park and play saxophone all day long. My favorite song was Pachabel Canon. Tom was my best friend until I moved again a year later. He was an interesting mammal that had deep and scary visions of the future. It was from Tom that I learned about nuclear holocaust. Tom assured me that the old A-bomb was inevitable. The A-bomb would kill everyone in sight, and they say that Detroit is one of the major targets because of the car companies, or so Tom said. So I have lived my life in expectation of the coming missile that will end our existence here in Michigan. Tom was a jerk. I was only eight or nine and I was all ready to build a fallout shelter. But today the threat still exists.
Airplanes I fear for the obvious reasons. You are stuck in a tin can thousands of feet above any walking individual. They say that it is the safest way to travel because there are more car accidents than plane crashes, but the difference is, in the car, you could survive, in the plane, you most likely will not. You are up there above the clouds and all is well and then turbulence. The wings start shaking and the lights flicker, then you here the captain come on the speakers, “Bing, passengers, please fasten your seat belts because we are about to plummet out of the sky to the ocean and all of us will die, so let us help the rescue guys to find our bodies by fastening ourselves to the floating chairs, thank-you and enjoy your death.” These things are the only fears I have had until now. It’s really trivial when you think about it. Both fears bring instant death, when I should be fearing the things that bring long term death. The things that you see in an old man’s eyes when you make a visit to the nursing home.











Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

What Happens When We die?

Robot 1- Do you still remember when we were little, we were playing in the park... And you asked me what happens when you die? I said, you forget everything...everything.

Robot 2- Even you?

Robot 1- Yes...yes, even me. You did not want to die. Never forget, the remains of what we used to have were taken away with the softest squeeze. How did I forget...How!


I know it is better to be with God than to live. I know that Jesus is everything and we have such limited understanding. I know that Heaven is far better a place than anything here. That being said, I am still scared to die.

Mark 12:25 When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven.

God is enough. But I love my family so much. The thought of not holding these kids and this wife in my arms destroys me. I do not presume to know what Heaven is, but I am scared of the unknown eternity that awaits me. I am human. I can't get past the fact that everything I remember will be lost, especially the things that cause me pain. I think about people I love so much that will not accept the reality of Jesus and I worry about them. I don't want to forget about them because God has eliminated pain. I still would feel much better to see just for a minute what it will be like. Not that it would change my desire to be there, but it would make me feel better.




Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Monday, February 23, 2009

A Reminder

Lying on the courtroom pew, staring at the little hole in the toe of the pantyhose of the lady sitting next to me, I didn’t even know I was drowning. I am oblivious to the order of business taking place. Mommies a stone on the stand, while daddy grins as the judge gives his verdict that would change this five-year-old forever. “Not responsible”, was the decision, Jim is found to be innocent of fathering me, despite the overwhelming evidence of his guilt. In the early eighties, blood tests were not admissible in court; so neither was the one that pointed to him as my father. The coward was free, free from me. Fourteen years later, I am still looking at that hole, thinking that if there was a God, justice would be served, but for me there was no God. Just rain. I was going to kill him someday, and die trying.
I grew up a little different than the other kids at school. I am the second son of a single mother, that didn’t have very good taste in men. I was born with hypoglycemia that made me sleep spontaneously at any given moment, and to compliment that, I was given a nervous twitch, a lazy eye, and a bad stuttering problem. Kids are cruel. So are adults. We moved to a different city every year or so because we didn’t have very much money, so I knew a lot of people, but not very many well. I had an overall pretty good childhood, because my mother ran a day care out of our house and I always had someone to play with there. My mother is a strong woman that cared deeply for my brother and me and tried to make up for the fact that neither Jason nor I had a dad to care for us. Jason’s dad is a coward too. I guess that is really the only thing Jason and I have in common, we are both bastards born from cowards. Jason’s dad claimed him as his child, but didn’t care to spend any time with him, I suppose Jason and I feel pretty much the same about that.
We didn’t have much family, an aunt and uncle and that was it. The rest of the family lived out of state and even if they did live here, half of them wouldn’t be caught dead spending any time with a couple of awkward kids. They were raised in a Christian home, with a lunatic minister father. This father was the same father that threatened to disown his daughter if she gave birth to me out of wedlock. She decided to have me anyway, a day that I’ve cursed for as long as I have been breathing.
Breathing, and doing so heavily. I’m laying on a set of railroad tracks somewhere in Michigan, sweating and crying, this was to be the last day I would suffer, the start of eternity. Ever wondered what your last couple minutes of life would be like? I have wondered this forever, now I know.
Once a teenager, all valuable relationships had been severed, especially with my mother. We have not stopped loving each other, but we don’t like each other either. This was when that decision, “Not responsible,” started to take it’s toll, started to cut away at my innocence, like a cancer that is incurable, I was dead already, I just didn’t know it. I was one of those kids that was just there, trying to fit in with kids I couldn’t relate to, I was different and I knew it. I think that the other kids around me knew it too, but just didn’t know how different. I wasn’t worried about the things they worried about, my worries were different, they were cold. And I had seen cold before, I knew him very well.
This is why my faith in Christ means to much to me. Without faith, there is no hope. Not just faith in something, but faith in something real. It gave me a reason to keep living knowing that at least 1 person was there loving me unconditionally. It gave me hope because while I was struggling with being abandoned, I became aware that I was never really alone. I was different because God was grooming me for something. I have to believe that. In 4th grade a little girl wrote a half page in my yearbook that there was something distinctly different about me and I should not stay in the shadows for long because I was a leader. A teacher in school whom gave me detention every day, that I thought hated me told me she saw something powerful in me and I would one day be a great leader. I didn't believe her either. I got a job at a school for the hearing impaired when I met Laura and the teacher's mother whom I had never meant sent me this letter that said I was to be a voice for God. All of these things seem foreign to me, and always have. I am as off put when I hear them now as I was when I first heard them. However that does not mean there is not truth there. In my life I have been able to have influence over many people and have been situations that people do not believe even when I tell them, so I have to believe there is truth in the encouraging words of these strangers. That God indeed is in control and continues to groom me for what He wants even when it doesn't seem clear. But I often need reminders of this when the lights go out and things get difficult to see.



PS. The first 4 paragraphs were edited from a letter I sent randomly to people in the phone book telling them they need Jesus too and that He could save them too. I like it because as ineffective as this method was, it reminds me of when I was so excited for God, I wanted to do the most foolish things.










Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Too Busy To Breathe

Lie down.
Head up.
Close your eyes.
Hands flat on the floor.
Breath in deeply.
Exhale.
Repeat.
Feel you breath come from your stomach, not your chest.
Take 3 seconds to breathe in.
Take 3 seconds to breathe out.
Repeat.



It is the weekend. Almost.











Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Break-Up

When was the first time you had your heart broken? I was in 11th grade. I had a lot of girlfriends before that, but I never really cared too much about them, dating was kind of a hobby or something to do when you are bored then. But I was in 11th grade when I first had a girlfriend that I really had feelings for. She dumped me through a phone call from her cousin a couple of hours before I was supposed to go to youth group. I didn't really like youth group at the time, the youth pastor had gotten let go and there was this cheesy guy that posed, but was much use to teens. I went because my friends were there. So I got really drunk just before and stumbled in there wreaking of booze. I may have been asked to leave, I can't remember, but what I do remember is that heartbreak sucked. I did many melodramatic things like sit and listen to songs on repeat and taking 6 Tylenol PM pills and waited to die. Didn't happen. Obviously.



Tell me about the first time you got your heart broken.




While you are at it, give me your melodramatic heartbreak play list. Mine is:


Perfect Blue Buildings- Counting Crows
Dreaming My Dreams- The Cranberries
Yesterday- Boys to Men
End Of The Road- Boys To Men
Is It Over Yet- Winona Judd
So Help Me Girl- Joe Diffie
Far Behind- Candlebox
One Last Cry- Brian Mcknight
I Let Her Lie- Darryl Singletary
I've Been Trying Too- Vince Gill
Glycerine- Bush
Better Man- Pearl Jam
Until I Fall Away- Gin Blossums
Best I've Ever Had- Vertical Horizon
The Freshman- The Verve Pipe
Brick- Ben Folds
Ghetto Bastar$- Naughty By Nature


There are many more, but you will notice I went through a terrible country phase for a spell, I am long since over that. Most songs are from the mid 90's because I haven't had my heart broken since. At least by a relationship.










Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Them

When I met Laura I was still in self destruct mode. I had hope in Christ then, but still had never been shown how to be a responsible man. I knew integrity, but only because I had previously practiced the opposite of integrity, so it was easy to reverse to honesty even when it hurt. But I still didn't get the value of an education and by this I don't mean a degree, a degree is a by product of the education. I did not pay my bills very well or enjoy going to work everyday. I was kind of a mess, but something about her made me want to do better. She made me want to be the person I had never seen in my life. It takes so much hard work and pain to change your life long bad habits, but I have made many significant strides toward who I think God has intended me to be. I am not even close, but I am on the bus. It is so funny because we both gave each other something totally different, somethings that we both needed dearly. Right now she lays in bed sleeping peacefully. My kids are dreaming about who knows what. Their eyelids are like angels open and especially closed. I am alone and missing them already and they have only been in bed for a few hours.

Aevry fits perfectly right in the bend of my arm, the same place Caeden used to fit. Caeden lets me wiggle his loose tooth as long as I promise not to yank it out and betray his trust. Laura sees the gaping holes in me and fills them without me asking. Aevry looks just like my oldest daughter Olivia, who I don't talk about much because she doesn't live with me and I want to respect her privacy. Olivia told me she loved me for the first time last week, she is 12. I wanted to break down because I have fought for so long for her and endured so much pain, and to hear that made me want to lose it, but instead I looked ahead at the road and drove. Caeden thinks I am a super hero at night and if you tell him different you will crush him. Aevry fights me for no reason, doing the opposite of what she is told, just to spite me, but then she crawls back up into the bend of my arm and sits quietly.

I apologize nearly every night to God for taking them for granted. I am happy. I am full. I have everything I have ever wanted.











Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Too Many

Just got finished with the studies for the Serial Killers 2 series for week 3. This is the second time I have done this series, but with different subjects and killers, and I have to say that I have never felt so sick, ever. I do it because for some reason the students respond to things that shock them, which is a testament to how the American culture is being that we are so desensitized to everything. Throughout the series, I am trying to bring some kind of humanity into light of these monstrous acts, but am finding it hard to separate myself from the feelings that come with immersing myself into the actions and details of a serial killer for a month. I just got done with week 3 which is about two ten year old who brutally killed a 2 year old in 1993 England. Here we have 2 ten year olds who came from abusive and neglectful homes who were taught nothing but anger and hatred, who mirrored their parents abuse onto an innocent 2 year old. I wish that people of our culture would stop loving themselves so much. Too many selfish people living however they want and acting any way they want to at the expense of their kids who look at them as God, but see evil. It is messing up our world. Too many divorces, too many abortions, too many alcoholics, too many selfish people.

It is so sad.


I have posted the first 2 weeks of this series on my other blog. Week three will be posted Thursday. It is not for the squeamish or faint at heart, so realize it can get really graphic and I still have left much out due to it's intensity.






Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The Place That Holds God

Church would be better if everyone looked at each other as family. If a family member makes you mad or hurts you, you don't leave the family, you forgive. If a family member is hungry and has lost his job, you help to feed him, take him in to your own house even when there isn't much room. When your family breaks bread, you do so with them, when they mourn, you mourn, when they celebrate, you celebrate. It was never the design to have estranged families and it was never the design to have estranged churches. I realize there are a million other churches, but one Church. If we cannot treat those in The Church as brothers and sisters, and I mean real brothers and sisters, not just calling them that in some Christianese lingo, we should take a closer look at what God says about the Church. We are:
His Bride
His Body
His Children

Why can't we act like it. You don't have to like everyone, but you do have to love everyone. But it would be nice if we could make a real attempt at liking everyone.


If you have been hurt...forgive
If you are estranged...come back, work it out
If you think you can have communion with God and hate your brother and slander him, you are mistaken.










Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Confession Time

When I arrived at Arno Elementary in 1986, I felt an enormous amount of pressure. I felt like I had all the weight of the world on top of me and I needed to perform, and perform at a high level that day. Back then, field day was a different culture, It was very loose. I was young. I was stupid. I was naive. And I wanted to prove to everyone that I was worth being one of the greatest crab crawlers of all time.

I did take a banned substance. And for that, I am very sorry and deeply regretful.

I used the drug from 8:45 AM to 9:10 AM the morning of April the 8th, 1986. That day I took 1st in the 100 yd dash, the 50 yd dash, the long jump, the bean bag throw, the ring toss, and 2nd in the marathon only because I stopped to lift a car off of a squirrel who had been parked on.

I deeply regret betraying the trust of my fans and supporters. I did take HGH, and anabolic steroids on that day every year until middle school when field day ended.










Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Grunge

I miss the grunge era. I used to wear the flannels with the thermals underneath. I had the Doc Martins, and the long hair. I listened to Pearl Jam and Blind Melon. As a person with depression, you have to love an era where people are trying to imitate you, perfectly normal people trying to look and act like a depressed person. It was amazing. The music reflected what I was feeling, especially Counting Crows who sang absolutely nothing happy at all, until they wrote that horrible Accidentally In Love song for the Shrek movie, but I pretend they didn't do that. I think that is when I really fell in love with music. I loved the thought that you could really express yourself with it, talk about the things you would never have thought of doing before, and people would like it and sing with you.

Gumby and I pierced our ears with his mothers best pearl earrings during this period. We planned a trip across the country, but never made it (reality set in quickly). We had little true friends and liked it that way. Girls used to try to get my phone number at the mall and I would always give them Gumby's and once he even went out with one of the girls pretending to be me, she figured it our right away. We used to suburban snowboard, where you get on a snowboard attached to the back of Gumby's van held by a toe rope and let it pull us through the city. On one snow day, we went to a video store and heard birds in their drop ceiling. We lied and said we were free lance bird catchers. They gave us 300 dollars in free video rentals to remove them. We went home to get our equipment and came back with 2 pillow cases, a harmonica, some rubber gloves, and a tennis racket. We then proceeded to destroy their store taking down all of the poop infested ceiling tiles and finally emerging with the birds in the pillow cases. We removed every last one of them. But you should have seen their faces when I would hold out my arm and blow on the harmonica to call them. The customers looked at us hoping to see the bird come to us and land on my arm, it never happened.

Things change so fast. A year or two later, I was about to be a father in high school. Gumby went to the Navy, The Body got married, and the Backstreet Boys pushed grundge out the window. I hate that. I never realized how badly I needed to stay a kid at that time while it was happening, instead I tried to grow up too fast and now I miss it.

The Body and I went out last night. I guess we were both feeling the same way because he didn't want to do grown up things either, so we bought a lobster at 1 AM at Meijers and opened Gumby's door and threw it in. Gumby shrieked in terror and punched the lobster to the floor. We all laughed, then threw that thing in the pot and cooked it and ate it. It was good. I had a good time, it is nice to revisit things that have gotten lost in adulthood. We never realize how fast this stuff goes away when you are facing bills, and work, and taxes.









Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Yoga Time

I did yoga last night with the wife. It sucks. I go to the gym 4 days a week and lift millions of pounds, but it sucked so bad to stretch. It was cool sometimes though, like when the guy on the video let us lay down and relax, that was really cool. I did not expect to sweat, but I did. I might do it again if no one is looking, I have to admit the poses look pretty stupid.

I started reading Into The Wild, one of my favorite movies ever. I was told the book is better and being that the movie was so good than the book should make me really happy. (Isn't that concept odd, a book make you happy? Maybe the Bible) I like it a lot so far. It reads very different than the movie. The move never told you how it all worked out till the end which movies usually do. The book tells you right from the get go and then works on that mood for the rest of the next few chapters so far. So many thought that the guy the book was based off of was an idiot and lunatic to go by foot with no cash across the country then into the wild of the Alaskan bush, but I don't think so. I think he was coping with the evil in the world. He saw what was being offered as unfulfilling so he left. He got away to somewhere quiet. He stopped believing the lie that we NEED so many things. The things he values were relationships with others and the beauty of God's creation. I think that's cool






Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

H2O

So we are starting this series at youth group called "Serial Killers 2." It is the second installment of the series that was the most successful series as far as turn out and excitement (I know that speaks volumes about this culture). It is a series based on the reality of sin and humanity of the sinner. One of the things I hate the most about this series is the research that has to be done. I pour over so much material about these particular killers that it severely depresses me. The thought that one of these predators could be lurking near my family makes me sick and it is a trying series for me to do. So last night I was praying at about 3:30 AM, such has been the case for the last week or so I haven't been able to sleep and feel very lonely. So I am praying to God and telling Him I am drowning, much like Peter did when he walked on water to Jesus. I am fully expecting He will pull me up too, however as I am praying it occurs to me that the fight to stay above water is the good stuff.

When I am happy and things are going well, I am not thinking as much about how much I need God to keep me afloat. I get confident and proud, then I sink. It never fails, I sink every time. I think Peter would have sunk every time too, at least until He saw Jesus risen, He seemed as the rest of the disciples to be really changed after that. I suppose I would be too. I think God values the fight, because it makes us recognize our reliance on God to sustain us, to save us from the waters, from the flames. I think there is mercy in tears shed for God. I think the questioning of my faith and testing has brought good things, if only because it forces me to meet my demons head on. I could suppress them, I could go on not trying to be transparent and unexposed. I could play my role and shoot par. I could float by and never be so tormented. But I choose to fight. I choose to step into the water even though I know I will sink sooner rather than later, but with the joy and comfort in knowing Jesus will pull me up again stronger and closer to Him. I pray for the testing of my faith. I pray for more brokenness. I pray for all of the pain that will bring me closer to Him.

I don't regret the drowning and I don't think for a moment Peter would either because Peter learned something about Christ that night. He is trustworthy. And faithful even when we take our eyes off of Him and begin to sink.

In the Bible water has often been used to signify new birth. We have Jonah emerging from the depths of the sea to do as God had intended him to, even through fear. We see a confession of a new birth in baptism, when we publicly go under to the grave and emerge a new person at least symbolically. Water rained for 40 days and cleansed the earth of the violence and hatred, and a new world emerged, not that we are not still full of violence and hatred. To emerge anything good, we have to go under. You need to be swallowed by the fish to be spit onto the places God wants you to be. You have to go to the grave to emerge a new creation. You have to drown to learn how to function in deep water and trust in God.







Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Bulletproof Worship Wagon

What's hard to trust about a guy born of a woman who who is lavished in jewels and robed in silk, who sits on a golden throne demanding the devotion and sometimes worship of millions of people and claims to be the vicar of the spoken word of Christ himself while enthroned in jewels?

That is the problem I have with the concept of the pope. Not the man himself, I have never met him, and I try not to pass judgment especially on those I have never spoken to, however this is my problem with the concept of the pope. He has too much power and hardly ever resembles the Jesus from the Bible. He is adored and celebrated and clothed in golden robes as Jesus was born in a manger and crucified naked. The pope sports a bulletproof worship wagon as Jesus rides in unprotected on a mule. It doesn't add up for me.

For those who are offended, I am not condemning the Catholic church, I believe Catholics because of belief alone share in the same Jesus I do. I have many family members who are Catholic and I am excited to share Heaven with them. I just don't get the pope. Why not worship Jesus, why do we need a vicar of Christ when we have His Spirit living inside us?

Rom. 3:9 What shall we conclude then? Are we any better? Not at all! We have already made the charge that Jews and Gentiles alike are all under sin. 10 As it is written: “There is no one righteous, not even one; 11 there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. 12 All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one.” 13 “Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit.” “The poison of vipers is on their lips.” 14 “Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.” 15 “Their feet are swift to shed blood; 16 ruin and misery mark their ways, 17 and the way of peace they do not know.” 18 “There is no fear of God before their eyes.”


The Bible says there is no one holy. The pope farts and sins just like we do, why pick a man to represent Jesus when we have Jesus right hear with us. We sometimes need help from pastors, and priests, and teachers in understanding what we are reading, but how can there be a fallible man to tell us definitively what the Bible means?
Just a tangent due to something I saw on the tele.










Sing.
Migrate.


™Zombiehaven 2008. All ideas and photos are copyrighted under Zombiehaven. Anything used from this site, must have written permission.