Please Remember Me Fondly...

As of late, I have learned a few things. I have learned that the more you put into someone, the worse it hurts when they abandon you. I have learned that my heart is the most loving and most foolish thing God gave me. And I have learned that God is only a liar when I put words in his mouth. I have spent much of the past week praying, crying, screaming at God, to the result of nothing happening. In a fury, I called God a liar. "Where are all these desires of my heart that you promised?" "Where is my joy that surpasses understanding?" Through all of this I realized that, we are supposed to reach a point where God is the sole desire of our heart and he becomes our joy. You know, the whole "seek first the kingdom" bit. Well, obviously, I'm not there yet and I don't know if I will be on this earth. There is too much for my eyes to take in as distraction. So I continue to run to him for help and run from him when I don't want his help. I'm foolish. I wish Jesus were here in the flesh so I could talk to him and he could tell me that its all okay and he loves me. I know these things well, but I wouldn't mind hearing them from him...

...To Rid You From My Bones

"Take away everything that he has and surely he will curse you to your face."

"All right, you may test him...do whatever you want with everything he possesses, but don't harm him physically."

So Satan left the Lord's presence.

Way too many times in my time as a follower of Christ, I have heard the words "God's Will". "Oh, you lost your job? Maybe you weren't in God's will." "You want to get tattoos? Make sure that's in God's will for your life." "God's got a plan for you, brother." Things like this make little to no sense to me. Obviously, God has a foreknowledge of what will happen to me and wrote it eons before I was thought of, so is there really any way that I can stray from where I'm supposed to be. Yes, there is free will, but look at it this way. Logically, there are three wills going into the planning of your life: God's, Satan's, and your's. One to help you, one to harm you, and one that's unwittingly along for the ride. You have big plans for your life, but only what God wants to happen will happen. "The Lord guides the steps of a righteous man." Satan has many plans and legions to harm you, but God has full control over him (see above and the book of Job). God's influence and planning is the only one that has any cred. He has full control over the other two. So why worry about failing and being out of God's plan, he's bigger, he's got it.


"Rejoice, young man, in your youth; and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth, and walk in the ways of your heart, and in the sight of your eyes: but know, that for all these God will bring you into judgment. Therefore remove sorrow from your heart, and put away evil from your flesh: for childhood and youth are vanity."

No Celebration of Mediocrity

Tonight the flames grew higher, with eyes squinting at the fire. With arson in the bars there'd be no celebration of mediocrity. We knew there'd be no glasses clinking, no heartbroken fool slowly sinking into the chair that he's called home, no, tonight he'd be all alone. I wish that I could play a string, a soundtrack to the blaze and sing a melody for structure fire, a harmony to aid the pyre. Its like I always dance alone even though I know your phone lays quietly by your bed, I prefer your ghost instead. It tells me lies, let's me believe all the hopes and dreams concieved while you were still within a reach and happiness wasn't salt at the beach. I wish that I could play a drum and that you would hum along. A melody for structure fire, a harmony to aid the pyre. Tonight I found an old shoebox full of memories and building blocks, that never saw a true foundation, just candles burning towards frustration. I lit a match and watched it burn until your pictures looked concerned, just an illusion or a glare, I knew that you would never care. I wish that I could play a string, a soundtrack to the blaze and sing a melody for structure fire, a harmony to aid the pyre
-"...A Melody for Structure Fire..."
I wrote this recently as a homage to the passing of the old and the things that I currently hold sacred. Almost every night I have been in a bar celebrating the mediocrity of my life. The celebration itself is mediocre. We have nothing to celebrate except our normalcy. This is hopefully my heart calling/crying for change. The pain is revisited and revived. I'm not sure how this will turn out. I wish I could just light a match and watch my worries burn...

...A Melody for Structure Fire...

"And if the good news is true, why are its public proclaimers such assholes and the proclamation itself such a weary used up thing?... As unacceptable as believers are, unbelievers are even worse... [The unbeliever] is in fact an insane person.... The present-day Christian is either half-assed, nominal, lukewarm, hypocritical, sinful, or, if fervent, generally offensive and fanatical. But he is not crazy. The present-day unbeliever is crazy as well as being an asshole-which is why I say he is a bigger asshole than the Christian because a crazy asshole is worse than a sane asshole.... The rest of my life... Shall be devoted to search for a third alternative, a tertium quid-if there is one. If not we are stuck with two alternatives: (1) believers, who are intolerable, and (2) unbelievers who are insane."-Walker Percy

As the sad truth rears its ugly head, I realize that Mr. Walker Percy was onto something. This is the way that things are viewed. I am an asshole. I, myself, would fall into several of those categories now, and the others at points in my life. I am very half-assed, nominal, likewarm, hypocritical, and the last goes without saying in reference to myself. In the past I have been offensive and fanatical. I love Jesus with all my heart, but I wonder who else knows that. I wonder if the person I bump into or work with knows that my heart is claimed and I am free. You'd never know it to listen to me talk (like a sailor), or watch my daily life (cigarettes and beer, sounds like a good movie). I would like to devote my life to finding a "tertium quid". But not that one that Mr. Percy speaks of, mine would be between the world of religious fanaticism and half-assed Christianity. I want to help people in need. I want to have the desire to pray and read more often. I want to see people smile. This is an ugly world and us Christians are the only ones who see and recognize all of true beauty. We have to make the world beautiful, or we will smother it in our apathy. Its funny, we all know who was the only true tertium quid...

We All Want to Be Somebody Right Now

I realize that a lot of blogs are made on this website concerning the church, well here's one more. I am fed up, I am tired of this feeling of discomfort when I talk about the church. I am tired of the world looking at us and wondering what the hell is wrong. I am tired of pride, ignorance, and greed having a hold on the institution that the very men who walked with Christ started. I'm tired of being a joke. In the last month I have been to two hXc shows and those two shows have inspired me to allow myself to be fed up. On Mother's Day, I saw one of my favorite bands, Underoath. They played to a sold-out room of disillusion kids, hardcore kids, and the token Christian kids. The band played a blistering set of new and old songs, and right before the last song the singer made a statement. He said, "We want everyone to know that we are on this stage only for Jesus Christ." The room exploded, the kids cheered more for that statement, I think, than for any of the songs. One week later I saw Extol and Haste the Day. At the end of Haste the Day's set they made a statement of equal value and the crowd had the same reaction. At the point when these rooms exploded in applause and cheering I was brought to tears. I wept because I realized what that sound was. That sound was a new beginning. That sound was the end of the church as we know it. There wasn't a band anymore, those cheers were for my Lord. At the same time I realized that the Lord of all creation was in the room those nights because he was welcomed. And I knew that if I was crying, The Son of God's eyes filled with pride as his children that he loved so much, spoke his name before a crowd that easily could have rioted and killed them, and was welcomed with cheers. There was an image in my head of Jesus dancing with the rest of the kids during the show. He wore a black t-shirt, tight jeans, and a bandanna covering all but his eyes.
My point:
This is the new church, whether we like it or not. No longer will a building confine it. No longer will one man lead it. No longer will money and power rule it. Jesus is pleading for us right now on God's right hand, so he must see worth in us. I believe he is proud when he looks at us, yeah we screw up, but he let's us know that he took care of it. Jesus loves our endeavors that glorify him. The church might deny it, but Jesus loves hardcore music. Jesus would be screaming right along at any concert. There are no boundaries anymore, of style, music, art, or race. At the beginning of the church it was a community of believers, living together, loving one another as we were instructed. The church will purify itself by heading that way again. It must or it will fall.

A Pill Popping Juke-box is All You Are

Of all the lessons in life that I have learned the hard way, in many ways the one I learned today was the hardest and loosest lesson I've learned.

The lesson: Don't overlook chances to do something small.

The teacher: (the faint of heart, stomach, mind, and most episcopalians might do better not to read the next bit). I live on a schedule, so most everyday around the same time my body lets me know that things are about to exit me whether I like it or not. So I go to the bathroom, I enjoy this time because its like I'm killing three birds with one stone, I'm relieving pressure, losing weight, and getting paid to sit down. Today was different, today at around 3 we cleaned the bathrooms at Subway (for you who don't know where I work), I cleaned the women's ( I chose the women's bathroom to clean because I thought it to be cleaner than the men's, I seriously underestimated) while Josh cleaned the men's. About 45 minutes later, nature telegraphed. I walked into the bathroom and noticed the rag that Josh had been using to clean with snugly in the bottom of the toilet bowl. I thought to myself, "I could grab that and throw it away.", but then I thought, "nah, I'd have to bend over and I'm already playing a human whack-a-mole game, here", so I decided to forget about it and just flush it. So I sit and I crap and all is well with the world until I get done and flush. I knew something was wrong the minute I touched the handle, it was like looking at me with those shiny eyes going, "you'll be sorry.". So I press the handle and water goes nowhere. The rag is caught in the drain (if only so much of my brain wasn't in my ass). So I run to the women's room and grab the plunger and begin to work on it. The only thing that the plunger produces is a very colorful shit soup. It now looks like I had the worst of diarrhea. So, I'm standing there freaking out and all I know to do is ask my boss what I should do. He goes in and tries a few things and comes back out with a huge smile on his face. He tells me there's only one thing to do and that it is my shit. So long story short, I have 8 subway bags wrapped around my arm tied with a rubber band and I'm staring down a toilet full of nasty. I have to reach in and grab the rag. When my hand hit that water it was like there were no bags around my hand. I felt like I was on fear factor letting my hand sift through pure shit. I guess you can imagine, that this doesn't smell great either, so I start to gag. For me gagging usually leads to vomiting, and this time was no different. Where did I throw up, in the toilet and on my arm. I had to search for the rag I thought it would be easy but it was deep in the drain. When I got out, cleaned up and ignored a few jokes about "turd wranglin'", I realized that all of this could have been avoided if I had just reached in and grabbed the rag when I first saw it.

This is a lesson I cannot un-learn, no matter how hard I try I won't forget about the feeling of that shit and vomit on my arm. I've always heard don't sweat the small stuff, well I'm sweating it now...like crazy.

Mother, Forget Me Now That the Creek Drank the Cradle You Sang To...

I guess I've never been strong enough to tell someone else that they're wrong. I feel that enough things are wrong with me that I have no right to point out someone else's shortcomings. I know that recently I have taken a turn for the worse in a lot of ways. I am drunk almost nightly, I chain-smoke, I am tempted to pop pills, and I curse like crazy. I know that these things are all a means of distraction. I am losing someone who means the world to me in two days. I need distraction at the moment just to survive. I realize however that all of these things must make me appear to be just like the world. But on the same tip, we must realize that being in the world means looking like the world. Being not of the world means not having the same train of thought that the world has since we have been transformed. I love Jesus. It makes me cry to think of Him watching me hurt. I long to see Him. I wish He were physically here with me. I know that he has an unending love for me. He is with me in the bar. He is with me when I inhale. He loves me when I say fuck. He knows where I am and why my mind works the way it does. I have no fear anymore. "I have a promise on the mind, and I'll be looking for what's mine." I know that these things don't make me who I am and they will pass. I also know that when the sheep are separated from the goats, the goats won't be the ones outside the gate smoking, drinking, or shooting heroin, the goats will be the one's who missed the point...