What are you thinking about? nothing, really, nothing

I've been in a reflective state of late, without actually reflecting on anything. I've been really thoughtful, but my mind is empty. Some of you are confused, some of you completely understand. I used to not like these moments, times, and sometimes seasons, at all. I like having my mind full of thoughts and craziness and sometimes poignant and sometimes gross and sometimes touching and sometimes... well you get what I'm saying. When I feel shut down like I have the last few days I can begin to feel a little depressed. Now add onto that the cold medicine I've been taking and presto, I've stepped into the phone booth and become..."stare at wall or tv blankly man". Long name, I know. Over the last few months since I started blogging, I've had a place to post the chaotic ramblings of my mind. This has made me miss those ramblings more than usual.

Tonight I got a brief insight during a conversation with my bride that has potentially changed the way I see these times. We were both yawning at some ridiculously early hour of the night, ready to go to sleep, and we wondered if we would ever be lively again. Then it hit me. Since she was done teaching for the summer, joined with the fact that our son is letting us sleep later, maybe we're actually catching up on a little rest. Now, grant it, my son doesn't sleep through the night, but he is generally staying in his crib for 12 hours. Since she has been out of school, we've been staying in our "crib" most of that same time. More sleep than we've had in a year...and we're both exhausted! I know you know of this phenomenon, you get more sleep, you feel more tired. But here's the point I'm slowly creeping up on. Maybe instead of being depressed by the quietness of my mind, I should embrace it as a time of God given rest. If little warrior is going to give us the opportunity to catch up on some sleep and rest, then, stop freakin' complaining and just sleep! It'll all even out, and I will be better off for it.

Now, for those who believe you know how to ramble, look at all I just said without really having anything to say. It's a gift, I know. I'm gonna crash now. Good night.

Theologically Speaking

In the comments of a friends blog a theological discussion/argument ensued over whether or not the church was just for believers. The problem is that the original post was not at all related to that discussion. One specific line out of the post became a discussion. This, to me, is a microcosm of why the Church of America, in all its forms, is failing its mission horribly. A heartfelt challenge, that was convicting, unsettling, and thought provoking about the plight of the homeless and the indifferent, segregated response of believers turned into a theological debate based on one small piece, officially losing the Kingdom minded thrust of what was said. I'm not judging, my own comment was caught up in the fray, if you will.

I'm sick of the divisions between our churches and believers on theological lines. Ever notice how most camps of theology are named after men or the works of men? I thought theo had something to do with God. The church is enslaved to addictions and secret sins, the world has dismissed the life giving message of Jesus as just another religion full of politics, infighting, and arrogance, and we would rather talk about some dead guys five points and which one or all we embrace. God offers us the amazing, indescribable gift of Grace and redemption and restoration, and instead of being humbled, full of awe and love, and living a changed life, we argue over whether or not this amazing gift was predestined or whether we're free to reject it. Okay, let me warn you, hard to handle phrase lies ahead. I heard this called "theological masturbation". I have no idea how you respond to that, but if you're offended, read a little further before you bail. While the lost, the homeless, and the marginalized wait for the hands and feet and heart of Jesus to touch them, in other words, wait for the church, the church is caught up gratifying itself with it's endless pursuit of tiny "facts" that leave it feeling superior and satisfied.

Look, I'm privileged to be around some guys who are brilliant theologians, who are pursuing truth not for some self satisfying one upmanship, but to allow that truth to set us free to live out the Gospel, to practice the ethics and ethos of the Kingdom of God. You know who you are, this doesn't really apply to you.

How long before the Church values what God values, and is forever changed by the message, the life, the death, and the resurrection of Jesus?

I Plod, You Plod, We all Plod

Plod. Now that's a funny looking word. For that matter, it sounds funny, too. My last two days at work have been extremely quiet, so I've done alot of thinking. I'm developing this train of thought on the "discipline of plodding". What am I talking about? Well, since you asked...

I'm convinced that I, and likely my generation and probably some ahead of me and many behind me have no concept on how to plod. You know, as in "I'm just plodding along". We typically have a very negative response to that thought. We get all poetic and idealistic and say that plodding is something like settling, like doing something because you have to instead of want to, because you're too afraid to take a risk. On occassion, all of those things may be correct. Most of the time, though, we don't have the discipline to stay a course when it ceases to be glamorous, when it becomes methodical, or just difficult and opposite of expectations. Look, I know this sounds like I'm preachin' at ya, but I'm preachin' at me, you just get to listen.

Alot of my life has been marked by an inability to plod since I walked off the football field at the University of Tulsa. Most of you know me as an artist and musician, but all that came after college. I did not play guitar, sing, paint (with the exception of the occasional ceramic piece for a gift, or on a r/c airplane) until well after I quit college. Before I was an artist, I was an athlete. I understood how to plod. I trained hard, in the weightroom, at the track, at home. I often didn't feel like it, was bored by it, or just would rather hang out with friends. But something in me understood that, at least for that time in my life, I was "called" to be an athlete. So I went to the gym, even after months of very little gains, and I worked. No one was watching, cheering, or anything like that. It was what I did, I plodded. Because I plodded, I got to play a couple of years at a Division I college, on a frame that was too short, too light, and too slow for major college ball. Along the way, I earned the respect of several guys who played in the league, you know, the NFL. Now, I'm not bragging, just talking about a point in my journey when I understood plodding, and how it worked itself out in my life.

I lost that for some reason after football, or, post-footballism, to sound more buzzy. It has been to my detriment in virtually all areas of my life, my weight, my finances, career, and struggles in those areas then lead to struggles in relationships. I'll draw this down to my struggle with weight since I've been posting alot about that recently. I'm off to a really good start. I'm fast approaching, however, the place in this struggle where I often wash out and quit. Some people assume that if someone is overweight it's because they don't have discipline. For me, that is true, but not how it would be presumed. In my struggle to lose, I have disciplined my body in ways that those who would accuse me for having the lack would never survive. I've been on a liquid diet where I ate one solid meal over the course of a month. I have given up everything that tastes reasonably good, I have simply starved. I've done this for months at a time. I can really discipline myself in those ways. I'm overweight because I don't have the discipline to plod along when you stop losing 6 pounds a week and start losing 3 to 4 pounds in a month. The discipline to stay the course when you have no visible change in your body for months. To keep making good choices when all passion to be in shape is lost, and it's down to a matter of the will. This is where I fail, and where with all the help available to me I hope to succeed this time.

Weight is not the only place I fail to plod. I fail to plod in my faith and calling. Let me talk about Joseph for a minute, maybe one of the greatest plodders of all time. Joseph got his calling at about seventeen. He didn't know all that it meant, but he had been given a dream from Yahweh, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and his father Jacob. In a terrible turn of events, not only did his calling not materialize immediately, it appeared to have been lost in a sea of betrayal, lies, and hate. Joseph could have decided he wasn't called to be a slave, and given up. Instead, at the household of Potiphar, he just began plodding. He soon rose to a place of authority in that household. When another encounter with lies and betrayal sent him to Pharoahs prison, he didn't waste away in his cell, he just started plodding again, doing what he knew. One thing he knew was dreams, even if it appeared his own would never happen. Then, one day, it happened. As he plodded along, he finally after many, many years, lived out his calling in fulfillment of the dreams he had as a teenager.

I believed several years ago that I was called into vocational ministry. The doors to that kind of ministry never opened, and I even began to wonder if there was such a call. The fact that we discussed that (while talking about a completely different call) Sunday morning may be what started me down this path. What I have done a miserable job at while waiting to fulfill that call on my life is plod. I've bounced job to job, never really engaging and really working at something. And while in the last several years I've attempted to do that, I've often not been disciplined enough to plod in a position I wasn't "called" to. Joseph consistently rose to the top in his various stops, I've not risen anywhere. I'm not trying to just hammer myself, I'm trying to name a very important hindrance in my life, get it exposed, and beat the hell out of it. The fellowship I'm called to lead worship in, I hope I'm there for the rest of my life. It may not be the place that pays me to do vocational ministry. Part of what makes the struggle with being overlooked at the ministry position I recently blogged about was that it was the seeming fulfillment of both calls in my life: to vocational ministry and to Rivendell. Now with that not being the fulfillment I thought it would be, what will I do now? My desire is to begin, for the first time in a long time, to plod. To live in this moment now, to give myself to where God has me vocationally at this moment, and where I may be vocationally next. The Bible, especially in the Wisdom books, seems to say, live your life where you're at right now. Enjoy the life you've been given. Plod with a grin on your face.

Wow, this is approaching novel in length. If you're still with me...good Lord you've been in front of the computer too long, get up! Okay, just kidding, but thanks for sticking around. There's another word that might work for "plodding": faithfulness.

Tributes, Thanks, and Towers.

Some very close friends experienced the loss of their grandfather this past week. From what I've read he was one of those rare men whose loss more often than not goes unnoticed except for family, but thanks to blogs his passing has been mourned in a open and powerful way. Go here, here, and here to read some wonderful tributes. I've been without grandparents for over 12 years, and it's a loss I still feel. My love to all of you, my dear, precious, friends, as you walk through this.

Supermom chronicled a day from hell in her latest blog. I must say that for those of us who wiped tears from our eyes during a slideshow tribute to mothers, and for the beautiful little keepsake the mom's in our group got to take with them, her day was not in vain. Thanks, girl, you are so very appreciated!

I am officially fourteen pounds lighter than I was three weeks ago. I'm pleased, but not really super excited. I mean, I get that its a start, and its progress, and that's a good thing. But the reality is, about the time I've lost 3 times that amount (that'd be 42 pounds for all you budding math geniuses), I will still be 100 pounds overweight, and the only physical evidence will be what I feel, not what anybody sees. I'm guessing it will be 70 pounds into this before any real visible change happens. I'm not discouraged, or depressed by this (at this moment, anyway), just more aware of the scope of my battle. You know the look in the eyes of Aragorn, Legolas, and Haldir (the elf leader sent from Elrond) as they looked out at the massive orc army at Helms Deep in The Two Towers? That's the look I need. The lightning flashing of helmets made them aware of the size of the army, yet they were not panicked, they just had the hard stare of warriors who knew a long, difficult battle lay ahead. I don't have that look yet, right now I think I'm looking more like the kids who were standing on that wall, more overwhelmed than hard, more ready to run than fight. But you know, when it came down to it, they didn't run.

Neither will I.

So, It Begins

Here's what faith for me looks like right now: keep moving. I have had a tendency in my life to really just freeze up when situations that are painful invade: job layoffs, financial frustrations, failures. When all this happened (see previous post to see what "this" is), I could not escape the whisper deep in my heart: "don't be afraid to grieve, know that I'm here in the middle of this, and don't stop". There are still things that I believe haven't been adequately explained to me, and I struggle with how far to pursue those who could be more honest about why certain decisions were made. At best I was misled and given false hope, at worst, I have been outright lied to and treated very poorly. Part of the struggle comes in that those responsible are old friends who I have had great respect and admiration for. The other part of the struggle is the belief that God wants me to trust Him, believe He is going to turn this for good, even if I don't see that clearly in this lifetime. There is a powerful change taking place in my Spirit, a deep belief in the goodness of God. I'm noticing that although the "how long?" cry's still come out, there is also an embracing of this moment, this time, an enjoyment of the fact that God is operating on my behalf outside of what I can see and understand, and I'm sort of enjoying the ride. Don't get me wrong, the fact that I return to my old job this week feels pretty heavy, even a little depressing. But it's not the only feeling, the only voice speaking. There's a chorus to a Third Eye Blind song that says "I've never been so alone, and I've never been so alive". It's amazing how the moments I feel abandoned by God are often met with the moments that my relationship with Him seems so alive. It seems that in the middle of the "how long" and "so alone" moments is where the "I'm here" and "so alive" moments are to be found. And, yeah, I'm kinda glad to be here, I'm hovering dangerously close to "count it all joy".

Here's one thing that I've come face to face with. One of my responses to this experience has been to bail on my diet completely. I know there's a mindset that says "hey, its understandable, given what you're going through", but that doesn't call it what it is. I've realized one of the places I've given food that it should not have. I'm quickly reminded that my battle there is still in a very precarious stage, and I could easily be defeated by this setback. You know, that just pisses me off. It was for actual lived out freedom I was set free. I've been beat back and into submission by stuff like this before, but I'm not that person anymore.

Yeah, that was the singing sound of a sword being drawn. It's on.

I was lost, crossed lines I shouldn't have crossed

I've had better days. For the past ten days to two weeks I have been in honest discussion and interviews with a local ministry about taking a position with them. In fact, I believed that I had the job. It seemed apparent to me that so much of what had happened in my life and heart the last couple of years had prepared me for this place, for this work. I even told a few folks about my "new" job, mostly because I believed and understood that it was mine. Today, like a freakin lightning bolt, I learned that someone else had been hired. "More qualified".

I cannot describe the profound and deep disappointment I feel. It wasn't about not getting a job, I've applied for and been turned down for plenty of jobs. It was the overwhelming sense that this was something I felt called to, created for, however you want to say it, and in one phone conversation followed by an impromptu office visit, it's yanked away. I called my beautiful bride and just wept, had a hard time saying understandable words. She was a rock for me. I know she counts on me to be strong for her, but when I need her strength in return, I'm stunned by it.

My faith is being tested, I've never walked through this before. I've never had something that I believed was right and I felt called to not happen. Don't misunderstand that, I've tried for tons of things I didn't get, from jobs to dates (obviously pre marriage) to cars, etc., but I've only felt a sense of calling three, maybe four times in my life, and those things happened. My sense of calling and belief in that place has not changed, but I will not go there to work tomorrow. Why is this happening? Did I miss God? If I did, why did absolutely everyone I shared much detail with agree with amazing excitement that this had to be God? Were all of us wrong? The thing is, if we're not wrong, it's even more complicated.

It would seem easier to say something like "I must have missed God on this" than to believe that not only did I not miss God, He made sure all of those I had opportunity to share with confirmed this direction in my life. Because if all of that's true, and frankly I believe that it is, then I have to believe that God is turning this for my good and His glory. On His timeframe. That looks fairly spiritual as I read it, but I don't feel real spiritual. I'm heartbroken. And I'm mad. I'm more than a little confused.

You may say something like "don't count your chicks before they hatch" but if you were to talk to those who walked through this with me, you'd find that I didn't. You might want to rush to my defense and believe I was misled into thinking the job was mine. I may have been. I'm less concerned with any misleading on the human level, I'm wondering if I was misled by God. Ok, don't gasp and quote scripture at me because of that comment, but it does me no good to disguise and water down how I feel. Thanks to my good friend for his recent post on disillusionment, and his reminder that God is in the middle of that. I'm not ready to say I'm Ok with it as he does, but it spoke to me.

Maybe we're getting down to it, me and God. I want to know and relate to Him more, and He's taking me to places where my faith is tested, where trials turn to Gold. I'd like to say something positive and report how excited I am and trusting I am, but, lying doesn't accomplish anything, especially in relating and hearing God. So right now, this just really sucks.

Baby Steps

For posterity, and sanity, and whining, and hope, I am going to chronicle my journey to become half the man I am now. I promise to post on other topics and offer my own blatantly twisted thoughts and ramblings for your amusement, but please allow for a large percentage of posts to be related to all things weight loss. If this bothers you, then you can...(sorry, my dissatisfied stomach is a little edgy).

Some people act like you can't gain wisdom and knowledge by perpetual failure. They're wrong. You don't get to write a book on how you achieved your great success, be on Oprah, and other things like that , but, boy, you learn like hell. I know alot about diet plans, what it means to eat and fuel your body in a healthy way, and even why most diets fail. I'm not following a book or a plan because frankly I've read 'em all, and I really do know how to do this, and what to do, and even why to do it, mostly. I know that success will only come if all aspects are addressed: the physical habits of what I eat, the emotional reasons why I eat, and the spiritual satisfaction I attempt and fail to find in food. I know this stuff. Oddly enough, for a guy who looks like I do, I'm a real fanatic of fitness and training, just, obviously, not my own. I read constantly the most updated technology, science, and medicine regarding how to train, feed, and best take care of your body. I love reading about workout plans. I once loved working out, and probably will again once I get started. I've learned all of this why trying and failing for nearly 20 years (18, to be exact) to keep my weight under control. For now, those failures are the stepping stones I'm using to survive.

I'm experiencing a new thing, though, and I don't like it: an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, that I'll never get there. I think somewhere inside of me, with all the ways I disciplined and trained my body, gladly embracing short term pain for long term gain through 2 years of college football, I believed if I ever really decided to get in shape and lose weight I could do it. Maybe it's that all those failures in the past as I lost then regained plus some have finally pushed the amount of weight and work it will take to make it so high that the self assured athlete in me no longer feels unbeatable. I don't know, I just know that the last few days I've not been overwhelmed with a craving for some particular food or drink, but I've realized that the journey is so long.

Sometimes it's good to see the big picture, but I think that picture is more than I can handle right now. Maybe I should just make a good choice tomorrow at breakfast, then try to do the same for the next meal, and the next.

Whew, this is gonna be something.