Saturday, July 31, 2010

Schematics




I don't think there is a paper design to life. There is no real set of protocols and policies on how to deal with the things that rip into you. Situations lead to reactions, some reactions are wise and smart and good, others are none of those things. We are bound to make some errors in judgment. We are bound to make choices, good or bad, that will strap themselves to our backs or tape themselves to our foreheads. It is life. Everyone's brain works in different ways. This is the beauty of God's design I think. We are all the same, in that we are created, similar in appearance, similar in emotional make-up and DNA; but we are all so very different. Our past experiences and the marks they leave on us direct our instincts.


So do not drop the hammer on everyone that does things different.






Sing.
Migrate.






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Monday, July 26, 2010

Integrigratuitous


In multiple discussions with my wife, friends, lectures at my school,  and observing the actions of people around me, the issue of integrity has been brought to the surface.

I ask you first, to define for yourself integrity. What does it mean? What should it look like?


For me, integrity means two very important things: 1. Making the moral and correct choice especially when no one is watching you. 2. When you say something, you put your actions behind it. If you make a commitment, you fulfill that commitment as a promise to God himself.

Unfortunately, at least in my opinion, commitments don't mean much to many people. Vows at a wedding, promises to a child, actions to the one's you are supposed to love most, dedication to our Church and to our family extended throughout the world, and commitment to follow Christ by taking up our crosses and following Him. None of these commitments are easy to stick to. All of them suck at some point or another, but isn't that the reason a commitment means something? Because we know that is means something, that is is important. When someone makes a vow to us, it puts our minds at ease, knowing that the other person is serious and is dedicating themselves to it. But if the fabric of how we feel and live with our commitments is shallow and unintentional, that peace of mind is void. We learn to be distrusting of any person when they say anything. Because we have been let down so many times.

I bet we all can count more people who have broken vows than kept them. This is sad. I have broken some too. There have been things I have told myself I wasn't going to do, and ended up right in that place with a decision to make, and often to my shame, I have made the wrong one. I think integrity is one of the biggest ways to show Christ and to express His love to others. Jesus stood by His commitment to us, His commitment to die and His commitment to raise again and make our lives wonderful. When we reflect this behavior and mindset, we show a very big part of what Jesus was to others. We give them peace of mind.








Sing.
Migrate.





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Saturday, July 24, 2010

Eternity

“He has also set eternity in the hearts of men.”  Ecclesiastes 3:11





One of my favorite scenes of any movie was in AI, when the little robot kid that wanted to be a real boy traveled to the bottom of the flooded earth to find the blue fairy to make him human. A Ferris wheel falls over beneath the sea and traps him for an eternity staring and longing for the magic of that blue fairy, whom he could only stare at and wish to.


We were always meant to be eternal beings. We were made to love eternally and think eternally. Most importantly, for us, we were made to live eternally. Even if that means Heaven awaits, I don't think that Heaven is the only eternity we were meant to experience. We aren't waiting for things to happen, to get old and die in our sleep and finally get what we have always longed for...to be a complete and whole child of God.  I think that God desires that we live with eternity in mind right now. To make choices and thoughts based on eternal love and eternal consequences.

That can be a tall task when we can't get past the thing that keeps us broken, right here, right now. Something holds us down. Something keeps us longing for something we can never have... something phony and fake. Regret. Hate. Jealousy. Anger. Lust. Greed. Could be the time you let that friend drive when you shouldn't have and lost him forever. Could be that rage that eats you when you think of your dad. Could be having to watch the one you love, loving another person. Could be a failed marriage. Could be rejection. Could be the insecurity that comes with being abandoned again and again. And maybe we just can't get it right. For me it is my missed opportunities to save one of the very few people who meant something to me at a time that nothing at all mattered.

Jesus didn't die so that we could live with regret. He didn't give us the tools to build a tent and pitch it in misery. He came so that we could have life and have it to the fullest. That means He knew full well that we would still sin and mess up and miss things, yet He died anyway at our hands. So we could be free.

Imagine the joy of a slave just freed. Imagine the happiness of a leper just healed. Imagine the hysterical glee of a prisoner pardoned for no reason at all, just because. This is what He came to do. However, many of those slaves stayed put in slavery. Those lepers got sick and died again. That prisoner may have gone right out and offended again. This is disappointment. That harsh empty feeling in your stomach when it drops. When all of your excitement is stripped away, all of that joy turned to sorrow. Get disappointed too much and you are liable to stop getting excited about anything. We will start living life waiting for the worst to happen. Or just disengage.

I think that is where Will really got mixed up. He got hurt so much. He left it all out on the table and it got trampled right before his eyes. He wanted something better and longed for something that wasn't happening. So he gave up, trapped at the bottom of the sea waiting on that blue fairy. I think what he missed was the amount of love that circled around him. The number of people that would give their own heads for his. I think he forgot what eternity looked like lived right here, right now. I am so happy that he knows it now. That he is dancing and shouting and laughing. He has what he had always longed for. He is whole.

That thought helps me remember to get back up and look forward. My neck hurts from looking behind for so long. If God wanted us to keep looking back, we would have eyes in the backs of our heads. Lott's wife was turned to salt for looking back at the destruction of evil. We can freeze in place too.












Sing.
Migrate.





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Monday, July 19, 2010

Moments




One moment can change everything. One moment with God can erase a lifetime of disbelief. One moment of sincerity can replace your entire view of another person. A moment of anger can strip you of your freedom or sink you. A moment of calm can black out all of the noise.

Living life moment to moment without planning is irresponsible. Living life guided strictly by your plans is foolish.

One lie can alter the things you believe. One smile can change a person's entire day. One kind word can save a person's life and one evil one can end it.

One of the problems with living in a busy culture is that, we don't think enough about the moments of the day. The little moments that give you an opportunity to teach. We are teachers. Whether or not you see yourself as one is irrelevant to the truth. We are all teachers. If you say you have Christ and pray for opportunities to be a light to a person in darkness, than it is important to pay attention to what your goal really is. What is the goal? I don't know, you work that out with God. Mine is to make the most of the opportunities I have to be a picture of God to someone else. If that means making them laugh, I will be a clown. If it means weeping and holding a person's hand with them, I will be in mourning. I can't tell you what your goals for each day should be, but I can tell you what they shouldn't be.

Your goal shouldn't be to get through the line as fast as you can and end your interaction with the clerk asap.

Your goal shouldn't be to bypass humanity in search of efficiency. Treating people as objects to be gotten past or tolerated is not a way to show them anything but what they see from everyone else.

A Christian should look different. Not because we need to wear Christian t-shirts or listen to worship music all day, but because our actions and lifestyle matches our faith in Christ. We go out of our way to make our moments worth something.

I wonder how many people I could have positively affected if I were paying attention. I wonder how many clues I have missed. I wonder how many people were coming to me for help or in desperate need and I missed it because I was preoccupied. I do know this...nothing is more important than loving. If we are whales looking to sing with others, than all of the sea life should hear our singing too. Maybe if they do, they follow you to the place they can finally find peace and rest.









Sing.
Migrate.





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Sunday, July 18, 2010

In A Swing


I used to lay in this lawn swing before I was married at night. I would look up at the stars and pray for God to come and get me. I didn't feel abandoned, I just didn't feel owned. I wanted to go home. The pain in the world was too much to feel. I have never been a person who ever wanted to lose my sense of feeling. Even if it hurts, the feeling is necessary. Part of the joy in victory comes from the pain in the journey. I wanted the pain and to an extent, I still do.

I would look up at that sky and wonder about the people watching the same one at the same time. Wishing they could go home too. It is great to be a Christian. It is wonderful to know God gave his life. But it can still suck to be a human. Right here. Right now. In this world where awful things go unpunished and even encouraged, Sometimes the pain of the weight placed on us can feel to heavy.

It isn't fair. At least it doesn't seem fair that we are born into this. That we didn't get the same choice that Adam had. Some would say we do every time we sin. I would disagree. Adam knew no sin. He didn't know how seductive it was. Adam walked the beaches with God. He knew in a different way and what it meant to BE with God. He sinned anyway.

It doesn't seem fair that we all suffer for the sin of this guy. Maybe I would have done the same thing and probably would have. I just hate that I have so see a world so crippled and hurt. There has never been a people so desperate, so angry. There has never been so much selfishness and pride. People are idiots. Plain and simple. Starting with me. We know what the right thing to do is and we choose the alternative route. It may be easier, but it leads to death.

What if Adam had a vision of all the pain the world would have to go through if he took that bite? I don't think he would have. I know he wouldn't have. We don't get that luxury do we though.?  We don't get to take a look at the future and know our actions have effected others. We have to make these decisions now...without foreknowledge.  We make these choices and for better or for worse we get to live by them. Live by the gun, die by the gun. It really shows the importance of praying out your decisions. Because usually, we don't get a second shot. If we act in haste, we can effect others and can never take back our actions.








Sing.
Migrate.




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Saturday, July 17, 2010

Throwing Flames

 "When detail lost it's freedom." Brian McBride



This is where we would write our names. This is where we would have laid down beneath the clouds and sent our hearts into the open air. Instead, something whispers miserable things in our ears as we sleep. Something fouls our dreams, disturbing our most vulnerable place.

Nature is both beautiful and cruel. We look at it as a being created that man cannot touch. It's smell and colors bring emotions we cannot control. They remind us of good times and also of bad times. Sometimes the good times are the ones that hurt more than anything we have ever felt. Because they are gone and we cannot ever get them back. Some call this regret. I don't buy it. I believe some things about life are so beautiful they are to be missed when they are gone. That is what makes life so beautiful. It's passing moments of undefined greatness and beauty. We feel things our words cannot describe and we cherish them for eternity.

It isn't ever going to go away. I can take pills. I can think of only good things. I can try my best to dwell on the blessings God has given me, which is more than anything I could have imagined. But this hole will not be filled. I am not sure it is supposed to. But I feel bad for feeling this way when millions are really going through hell. I guess that's part of the way I see things and adds to the emptiness I feel for no reason sometimes. I am never getting over Will. He has been dead now for almost 7 months and I still see him in the night when my eyes are closed. He speaks to me in my dreams, and tells me things I don't want to hear. Lost my best friend. Lost my brother. Lost a big part of who I am, or was.

I went through a short phase where I just wanted to mimic him. Got a mohawk that he was famous for. Bought skater shoes that I had never been interested in. It is over now, but I just wanted to remind myself of him all the time. Remind myself that I still had to fight for his kids. If I had died, he would die before my kids went without a positive father figure. So I will fight for them, no matter how bad it hurts. I will be silent when I need to be. And I will throw flames when protection is needed. I only hope and pray that he knows that I do it for God, for his kids, and for him.







Sing.
Migrate.



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Thursday, July 15, 2010

Kin




Kinship. What does it mean to you? What does it really mean to be family? What should you look like when you are being a good brother or sister or father etc.? I don't think that family is limited to those with the same blood flowing through their vessels. Yes, there is the family of Christ, but there is another kind of family. There are some that you are bonded to for life. Good times and bad, you have them and they have you. Even if you piss each other off systematically and often, when push comes to shove there isn't a weapon that can keep you from them. Joe. Andy. Outside of my wife and children, there are no two people left here that I am closer to. Will is gone. But when I look at Joe, we both look different to each other, we both realize the other's pain. When I look at Andy, he looks at me the same way and he didn't know Will that well. He looks at me like that because he feels me. He hurts because I do. There is nothing on this earth more valuable than a friend that shares your hurt. Most people try to solve it and give advice. Some walk away and try to avoid you in fear of saying something to make it worse. Others overcompensate for the awkwardness and act stupid around you. Then there are the ones that step into the fire with you knowing they are about to get burned too. They walk in because the thought of not doing so would be worse than death.

The world goes on. It keeps spinning at the same speed even when you aren't traveling at full speed, or even half speed. People move on. They get over it. But not everyone. There are those that see it in our eyes. They aren't fooled by the make-up or the clown bit. They have been in it too. When you have been in it, you recognize others who have too. You see it in their eyes, because they look like yours. This society of people that have no idea how they are still moving at all. They just thank God that they are. They get kicked around for a bit, throw pity parties, listen to music that makes it worse, break things when they want to destroy something beautiful, kill any and all prospects of joy, fight every force that pushes against them, and find places that make you feel not so alone.

These brothers stand firm with me. They rally me to get back up. They put fire right back into my eyes. They hold me together. I guess, I just want to say thank you. Thank you God. Thank you Laura. Thank you Caeden and Aevry. Thank you Joe. Thank you Andy. Thank you Jo Ann. Thank you Jim. Thank you mom. Thank you to every person who has prayed for me or wept for me. I have more than one mom. I have more than one brother. And there is a guy in scrubs who has always been a father to me. Thanks.










Sing.
Migrate.





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Saturday, July 10, 2010

Little Window




Sitting in this little story book window, in a place in Michigan I have seldom seen. I am thinking about things. Life has been different lately. Not bad or great, just different. Imagine that reply to the question, "How are you doing?" "I am doing different sir."

You can't adequately describe different with our language because different is something we haven't felt before. It is like trying to describe a taste with your prior experiences of different flavors. I can't tell you what burning tires taste like, but I can tell you what I imagine burning tires taste like by describing their smell. So here goes.

I feel like a star that keeps shining even when it fears it will burn out at any minute. I feel  like a husband who has lost his son, but retained his wife. I feel like the Prodigal Son's father just after the boy asked for his inheritence, but smiles because he knows the outcome because he's been there before. I feel at peace just before a storm comes. I see the dark clouds in the distance, but also see blue skies behind it. However I feel. I know this. God is near.



Sing.
Migrate.


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The Things We Left Behind (I Miss Boblo Island Part 2)




Things that used to be beautiful. They used to make music that would melt you. They would bring you right into another feeling of existence. They would remind you that we can be kids again if only by our hearts. We can remember looking over the edge of a balcony for the first time and the sick feeling you got when you imagined falling from it. We can feel again the way it felt to be new in a school and you make that first real friend. We can travel the same roads we travel so many times before and wished they would never change even an inch of their concrete DNA. Even these things fall apart.  The roads fall apart. They end up rubble. But that music. It plays forever doesn't it? You cannot take that away. No form of erosion, electric or weathered can break that music free from your heart. It holds on through all things. We may lose the places we love and have set our feet on so many times, but we won't lose what they meant to us, or who they meant to us. Without dementia, we can still go back, for a moment. We can still feel the bricks at our back and the fire at our feet. We can still hear the sound of the street lights turning on and the smell of an elementary school. We can smell our mother's sweater or our father's cologne again. We can feel his stubble on our cheeks as he hugs us. We can feel again her hands sweep across our hair as we weep. It doesn't have to be over. For a few minutes, the music can play and we can be somewhere else. Somewhere other than here.







Sing.
Migrate.


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Friday, July 9, 2010

Missing Boblo Island




 I used to go to Boblo Island every year. It was the highlight of my summer. The place was teeming with fanny packs and wagons, people in track shorts and friendship bracelets. It was cheap to go to, so it made it easy for us. When I was a kid, I remember wishing that Boblo Island would never be destroyed by a nuclear attack. Anywhere but here. One year I woke up to the bad news. Like a traveling carnival packed up in the night, Boblo was gone. At least it was gonna be, and a multi-million dollar housing establishment was going to take the place. A fountain where the Falling Star used to be. A pool where the Rotor once stuck me to the wall on it's spinning axis. Where I bought cotton candy, I could now buy trade options and IRAs. It was sad. I kept imagining abandonment. Walking through the large gates that surrounded it, in the parks last closed winter. The ice formed off the seats of the Ferris wheel. The carousel horses broken by vandals. I would sit down on the cold bench and enjoy it one last time before it was rubble.

It always hurts when the places of our childhood are destroyed. We hold such memories and they are renewed every time we go back. But when we go back and they are gone, we grieve a little. We can never go back. They are locked away inside of us with no hope of seeing them again. It feels a little like losing someone you love very much.

I am notorious for going back to these places. I will drive the long route just to drive by and look. If I had millions, I would buy them all, just so no one could tear them down. But I can't and I know that one day all of these places will be something else and people will make memories in their new tenants.




Please tell me about someplace dear to you that has gone away.






Sing.
Migrate.


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Thursday, July 8, 2010

The Fail Blog



I have added another word to my list of words unrecognized on this blog. Fail. I hate it. I remember the first time I heard it, of course on Facebook. One kid posts "I am fail." I laughed, but I didn't yet know what was about to happen in my culture. Fail would become the describing word for everything, just like amazing was a couple years ago. Epic fail, and many other versions have been circulating like Myspace photos of "Duck face." Drives me crazy I think. So in honor of this banishment from my understanding of language, I will write this blog.

When was the last time you really tried at something, I mean tried with everything you had and just failed? No matter what you did and how much blood and sweat you put into it, it just seemed like it was never meant to be. It is a terrible feeling under the sun. Makes you want to hang your head and kick a can around the train tracks. Maybe is was a test or a class. Could be a marriage or relationship. Could be a job or a friendship. Whatever it is, it hurts. We are conditioned to win, not lose. There are no cheesy motivational posters that tell you the real truth. It would say, "Give everything you got. Leave nothing inside you. Then walk away with your head dangling below your neck." Then there would be a picture of some guy falling off that mountain he was climbing. You just want to throw up your hands and give up, and sometimes we do. It is demoralizing to be the laughing stock of everyone you know...to feel everyone's eyes on you when you walk through the door...to hear the whispers after you pass by. Whatever caused this sense of shame when we just can't get something right? Is it pride? Is it self respect? Is it fear? Doesn't matter I guess how it got there, but how do we survive it when it comes to you.

Perspective.

Many things are bigger than us. Bigger than our problems. Some things really just don't matter in the end or at least when we reach the end. It hurts, but it doesn't mean that thing was what God wanted for you to complete. Some things are, and because of our own stubbornness, we fail, but others are about the getting there. The heart breaking attempt. The spilling out of our guts to a bitter end sometimes is the thing God wants from us. He wants us to fight for things. He never said we would win, but He did tell us to do everything for His glory and to work as if unto Him. If we perceive a loss, it doesn't mean we lose. When we perceive a victory, it doesn't mean we won anything...we may have just lost.

Stand up. Take the bag off your head. Muster every bit of anger and disappointment in you and turn it into determination. Be determined to fight, even if it doesn't seem like a win.

So we don't seem so alone. Post a fail story in the comments.








Sing.
Migrate.

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Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Dead Spaces


 If you are a hiker you know that in the winter, it is important to heat the dead air spaces between you and the elements. This is achieved mostly by eliminating the escape of hot radiated air from your own body. I have looked into it because one of the things I must do before I die is camp in the winter in hibernating bear country. I want to find their lair and lay down for a nap with them. Just kidding on the nap and lair, but the camping I will do one of these days.

I stepped out into the slightly dark and humid air this morning. I haven't been up this early in some time. It is easy to forget how quiet these times can be. I can see why people prefer to pray in the morning. I prefer the middle of the night. Both are dead air spaces. The spaces between our bodies and the elements. In a an hour or so, the whole world around you will be up, going through daily rituals and scurrying off onto the roads that are teeming with visual vomit. Ads everywhere and people everywhere buying things and selling things. These dead spaces are quiet. They are the rare times you can watch the birds feed their babies without looking over their shoulder. The rabbits are still on the front lawn and the stray cats are still sitting under parked cars. All ready to come out and meet another loud and busy day. The dead spaces are warm when we choose not to let out the heat. When we do, they are ruined and we lose peace. The dead spaces give me the strength to stand back up after my knees have buckled. The world can be heavy and exhausting. But there are times where the hands on the clock seem to stop and everything is still. Like in the Bible when the disciples were afraid of the storm and Jesus being a master manipulator of the elements of God, says, "Peace be still," and the waves cease. I think He still desires to use those powers now when we are in turmoil.








Sing.
Migrate.


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Saturday, July 3, 2010

Little Feet



Tough week. A lot of dreams. A lot of anger. Feels like I am barely hanging on at times. Then I remember the little things. Even if the dreams are bad, it is still nice to see him. In real life, I only get memories. At least in the dreams I am getting something new and unique to me. I get to see him smile and look me right into my eyes.

Aevry prayed two days ago before bed for Jesus to let Will come back. I nearly threw up. Then the next day, she found an ice cube on the floor perfectly shaped like a heart. Aevry and her hearts have spoken so much to me through this. I praise my God for that.

I go to this little Catholic church a few blocks from me when I need to be alone for a while. I ran full speed a couple days ago to burn off some anger. I got there and screamed my head off. I like the statue of Mary that sits in the garden there. I always did like religious statues. Not because I think they are mystical or have any power, but because they always represent victory and dominion. A statue of Mary stepping on the serpent. Truth is as Christ paid for us, he gave us the same dominion over evil. We will prevail and for those who profess Christ, we have already. It is a nice reminder that we can't always lose and our plight here is temporary. Makes me want to keep fighting harder. To have more heart. To remember those little feet above. They are marching with me and standing with me, holding my hand. My wife and kids are weathering this with me unwilling to falter. Hit us, we will fall down and bleed, but we will get right back up and stand in your face with the strength of God. With my face in the mud, I hear their voices and I lift my head. You could never hold me down.




Sing.
Migrate.

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