Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 12/18/20 Nik Curfman 12/18/20

Journal: #151 Christmas Memories

All I ever want to enjoy the people I’m with. I don’t care what we do (mostly.) I can barely remember any present I’ve been given. I need time to think about them, but the memories of family are more precious to be than the gifts.

Thirty years ago, Christmas meant two off from school, gift shopping with my siblings, and end-of-the-year-the-diet-starts-tomorrow food. My sister and I listened to Christmas records and put puzzles together. We’d watch all the classic movies- A Christmas Story, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, and A Christmas Carol. My mom would spend a day or two in the kitchen producing an endless supply of cookies and other treats. I loved it.

Ordinary Beauty

Usually at some point in during the holiday, someone would get upset about something “not being right” over something none of us really cared about. Once, while trying to decorate the house and make dinner, frustration got the best of my mother. Through clenched teeth she exclaimed,”I’ve been all over hell, and I can’t find any damn Christmas lights!” Then there was my sister’s proclivity to decorate and redecorate the tree.

Aside from the these lesser moments, are the little stories that made those ordinary days memorable. There’s the time my brother and I bought the Christmas tree without a way to get it home. We used rope, bungee cords, and my right hand to secure it to the roof of our small Toyota. We both laughed as I narrated the journey home, my hand numb by the end.

One of my favorites is when we decided to put the tree in the car, trunk first. I’m not what my logic was, but it had to look silly to everyone we passed on the way home. What made this story my favorite is the fact we decided to stop at Rush’s for milkshakes. Who could’ve predicted our car would brake down just outside the drive-thru window? I hope the tale of two teenage idiots and their Christmas tree is still part of the Two Notch Road lore.

Family Tradition

A question I was asked this week was “what did you family traditions did you have growing up?” I had to think about my answer because we didn’t have a set tradition like going to grandma’s house or carving a roast goose. If I had to make a list it would include:

Mom’s cookie bonanza.
Buying each other the same gift- seriously. We do this.
Watching National Lampoons Christmas Vacation on Christmas Eve.
Opening one small present on Christmas Eve.
Ham for dinner.
Cream cheese pinwheels... They’re so easy to make it’s stupid: smear one flour tortilla with cream cheese, sprinkle evenly with chopped black olives and green chiles. Roll up and cut into half inch “wheels.” It ain’t Christmas without them.
Dad buying everyone a calendar.
Trying to enjoy Christmas and each other.

What I Love

That last tradition is my favorite and most worth while. All I ever want to enjoy the people I’m with. I don’t care what we do (mostly.) I can barely remember any present I’ve been given. I need time to think about them, but the memories of family are more precious to be than the gifts.

(It’s why I prefer to like Thanksgiving more than Christmas. Embedded in Christmas is expectation and a need to “show you care.” Thanksgiving lacks all that bullshit. Just sit down and eat, crack jokes, and enjoy the day. If you know me, you know we can’t be friends if we can’t eat and act like fools together.)

Gratitude Wins

As I sit here as a single as ever, in a cold empty apartment, I’m content to swim in the memories. It feels good. I’m not mad at the present or bemoaning the future. I’m blessed to have those goodies tucked away in my brain, and I’m looking forward to the day I can make more memories with a family of my own.

My endeavor to be grateful in all areas of life, at all times, is paying dividends in ways I couldn’t fathom. It’s a gift from the Lord. A year ago I was falling love, and today I’m not. And, unlike any other time in my life, I’m not bitter or angry or deep down a pit of depression about it. My life isn’t a series of f*ck-ups and failures. I’ve been blessed, and the best is yet to come.

Holy Spirit. You rock. Thank you for my life, my crazy, rollercoaster life. Thank for you parents and my friends. Thank you for my brother and sister, their spouses, and my nephews. Thank you for Emma. Thank you for all the embarrassment, disappointment, and shame. Thank you for joy and life eternal.

Thank your for old used cars and poor life choices. Thank you for chocolate and cream cheese pinwheels.

Thank you for coming to this Earth to be with us, to live as one of us, and die like us. Thank you for never leaving or forsaking us.

Lord, thank you for showing me a better way to live. Thank you for making my life worth living. More Lord.

Amen.

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Nik Curfman 12/17/20 Nik Curfman 12/17/20

Journal: #150 Blog Posts In, Many More To Go

As with walking everyday, I write everyday because it feeds a part of my soul. Cooking doesn’t do it for me, and a great conversation with a friend is not substitute. Nothing else can take the place of watching my words appear on the screen or paper, words from my heart and mind.

I started my blog on July 11th. It’s December 17th. When I click publish on this post, it will be my 150th daily Journal blog post in the last 158 days. And, I can’t remember the last day I didn’t post something (upon review, 30 days straight, 70 of the last 71.)

Yesterday I wrote about walking. My relationship to the written word is similar in that it’s been a slow and steady build. The shelves in my bedroom have stacks of dusty journals dating back to 1997. I created and published my first blog in 2008. (This blog is my tenth blog.) It’s long been deleted, as have all the others. The 150 posts (plus poems and other posts) are collectively more posts than all the previous blogs combined. Obviously, I found something I like.

Why I Started Writing

As previously stated, I started journaling in high school. What no one knows, until now, is why. So, get ready to have your mind blown. Here’s the truth: I started journaling…for chicks. It’s an original idea, all my own. As you can probably know, it worked perfectly. (For the sake of clarity, I’m still as single as the Pope.)

In April of 1997, the movie The Saint starring Val Kilmer and Elizabeth Shue was released. I loved it. Shue became my teenage crush, and Kilmer cemented his status as one of my favorite actors.

It hit all my teenage buttons- action, a bit of mystery, romance, solving world problems like pollution and cheap renewable energy. I wanted to somehow emulate The Saint. I wanted to travel the world, stop world hunger, and end global warming. I also wanted to have an intelligent and beautiful woman fall desperately in love with me.

By now, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with journaling. Right? Well, in the movie, Val Kilmer’s character Simon created a journal full of poems and drawings as part of a persona he created to woo Elizabeth Shue’s character, Dr Emma Russell.

I, being who I was at 16 when I first watched The Saint (and would go on to rewatch many times), decided I needed to be more mysterious and poetic. I eventually made my way to the bookstore next to theatre where I purchased my first 8.5 x 5.5 inch Strathmore Sketchbook. It currently lays among the dust covered journals in my room.

What It Means To Me Now

I flipped through that original journal a few weeks ago. It was a humorous moment filled with embarrassment and delight. 16 year-old me didn’t have a clue who he was or where he’d go. But, he did believe he had to be someone else, a person he wasn’t. If I could tell him anything, it would be this: Jesus loves you as you are. Be you buddy.

Journaling was suppose to be part of my mystique. It was suppose to be something I used to impress other people, a woman perhaps. Thankfully, it became a place of intimacy between me and the Holy Spirit. The writing isn’t dignified or noteworthy, but it is honest.

The joy I find writing these blogs and journaling is real. Once I removed the need to be famous or lauded, I found the strength to be myself. I’m not sure if any of this will lead anywhere, and I don’t care.

I Write Because I Love It

Any Plans?

I’d love to become a greater writer. Why not? For now, I’m very content to type in obscurity. Besides, writing for the public- something relevant, timely, and insightful- is difficult. It requires skill, an audience, and a bit of talent. I believe I am improving on all fronts, but I’ve got a ways to go.

The only goal I have is to post over 300 hundred blog posts by July 11th, 2021. At the rate I’m going I’ll hit close to 350, but we’ll see. Regardless, I will not ignore writing and posting blogs. I can’t. Something in me would starve, and I’d suffer.

God Is Good

I can’t explain why or how, but there is a gift from the Lord in all this. The deeper I dive into walking, writing, and praying, the more I experience the supernatural goodness of the God. It isn’t like being high or spiritually drunk, like I’d expect. It’s a confidence(faith) I see in other areas of the my life.

Love produces real fruit, and it is a lie to believe self-love is a lesser love. I once believed it was, that I had to sacrifice myself for love. Now I don’t. It’s not love to deny myself what brings me true joy.

Self-Love is Real Love

I think a lot of us believe we have to put ourselves on the back burner. It becomes habitual and expected, but it’s not healthy. I spent most of my life trying to be someone else and constantly lived in the shadows too afraid to fail at what my heart wanted most.

It’s odd isn’t it, to believe I could fail at writing or walking or pursuing the Lord? What standard was I using? I forget, because it’s not important. My testimony is real simple to this point. By embracing myself and doing what’s in my heart to do I discovered more life than I ever had before.

God is so good like that. All He ever wanted for me is to be myself. If He’s the Tree of Life, being who He created me to be is the fruit. And if writing is part of who I am, no matter the result, I can’t stop.

And, I won’t. Today I celebrate my 150th Journal post, and look forward to thousands more. Happy Thursday.

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Nik Curfman 12/16/20 Nik Curfman 12/16/20

Journal: #149 10,000 Steps & Counting

There’s something to be said for going hard at something new for 30 days. We might see we have a talent for a new skill, or discover a potentially life altering new habit. But nothing worth doing happens in a month. The best parts of life come from the slow dedication to the growth of Love in our lives.

One of my favorite YouTube Channels is Wheezy Waiter. It’s produced by a man named Craig and features his wife Chyna. Together they make videos focused on everyday human behavior and current trends. Their most popular videos are 30 day challenge videos. The most popular video being “We Quit Sugar For A Month, Here’s What Happened,” with over ten million views and counting. Not bad.

The first Wheezy Waiter video I watched was the “We Walked 10,000. Steps A Day” video. I was already on the 10,000 steps band wagon, but I wanted to see what another average Joe experienced. As I expected, it went well for Craig and Chyna.

I Love My Walks

The task of hitting 10k steps each day is harder than it seems. It requires time, space, and dedication. My current streak stands at 39 days, a fact I’m proud of. I’d like to hit one-hundred consecutive days if I can. My biggest hurdle will be travel and the weather. Today was a perfect example. Despite being slammed with work, I managed to squeeze in over 11,000 steps while dodging rain drops and the wind.

The thing that keeps me motivated is I love walking. I enjoy strolling through my neighborhood or around one of the nearby parks. Regardless of my mental or emotional state when I start a walk, I feel more relaxed and clear-headed when I finish.

At a time when people want life to slow down, there’s nothing slower than taking time to walk and pray and watch life happen one day at a time.

I’ve walked in the extreme heat and the cold rain, when I’m sad or depressed. I can feel like I’m dragging myself through quick sand just to get out the door, but I never regret a quick turn around the block or late afternoon saunter in the forest. It’s just part of my day, like posting a new blog post or eating breakfast at noon. If the sun comes up, I know I’m going to get my steps.

30 Days is Nothing

My new love is not the result of a 30 trial. I started trying to hit 10,000 steps as far back as 2017. It wasn’t an everyday thing, but 3-4 days a week I’d walk the Sacramento river trail past the Sundial Bridge then loop back home. According to my phone, I’d be faithful to that routine for a month at a time. I’d stop for a few months, then start again.

It’s such an odd journey to get to this point, because it was only late last year (2019) when I realized I like to walk and hike. That’s when I decided to make it a daily part of my life.

My main problem with the Wheezy Waiter 30 day videos is that anyone can do anything for 30 days. I can be (and have been) a vegan, or go without sugar for 30 days. Shoot, I can wear underwear made of cheese or collect fart samples for a month if the money is right. Anyone can. 30 days is not enough time to decide anything, and it certainly isn’t enough time to establish a healthy, life-giving habit.

good Stuff Isn’t Easy

I love my walks. How odd then is it, some days I must push myself to do something I love. I see obvious mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual benefits from walking, and I still have to fight to take the first few steps. (More importantly, what if I gave up after just a 30 day trial?)

What does that say about me? About us as humans? I know I will be happier and more relaxed from the doing- the praying, walking, and writing. Not because I finished these tasks and can now cross them off a list, but because I find life in the doing. So why do I struggle to do them?

Just do It

Instead of deep-diving into my psyche, I’ve got a new answer for questions like this: I DON’T CARE. So what if I struggle to get off the couch to go for a walk? Or if I start a post without a clue of what I want to say? The Lord certainly doesn’t care about my attitude when I turn to Him and say “here I am.” (He does, obviously, but I don’t have to fix myself to come before Him. That’s His job.)

Love Endures

This exact moment and days like today is what loving myself looks like. Thank you Lord. Love is kind and patient, and it endures. Love allows pain to be felt and frustration to be recognized. Then it whispers,”Let’s go for a walk.”

My dear Lord. Thank you for walking with me and inviting me into Your spaces. Thank you for teaching me what dedication and endurance look like, and the sweet fruit it supplies. I love our slow walks.

Amen.

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Nik Curfman 12/15/20 Nik Curfman 12/15/20

Journal: #148 Not My(Dating) Story PT. 2

What I love about Phil’s story is his patience. He didn’t rush the groove, because Lord knows he did not lack opportunity. On the other side, I know people who did rushed into marriage, and they suffered the consequences of impatience.

This is the second installment of my dating stories meant to encourage myself and other single people. In the intro I wrote about my heart break earlier this year. Part 1 is about Bob and his path to Kelly. Bob overcame his pain and cynicism to go after Kelly, and they are wonderful together.

Dating isn’t easy. There’s no perfect person. But, God is good. Take heart. Part 2 is the story of Phil, my Australian brother.

As we shuffled into the elevator, Phil turned to me and in a playfully serious tone said,”Be prepared. Emma isn’t like anyone I’ve ever dated.” In the 13 years we knew each other, Phil rarely prepared me to meet one of his girlfriends. They came and went, and most of the time I didn’t know their names. For whatever reason Emma was unique, and Phil wanted me to meet her.

Phil Is The Man

Phil is a man’s man, a Hemingway character come to life. He’s from Oz (the aforementioned Australia), climbs mountains, drinks like a sailor, and oozes confidence. He knows karate and speaks his mind. And as if he needed it, the accent made him irresistible to the ladies.

I met Phil in the summer of 2003, and instantly felt inferior. He was everything I wasn’t but wanted to be. My life seemed to be falling apart at every turn, and he never lost he cool. In truth, Phil face as much or more adversity as I did during those days. He just knew how to navigate it.

We met because I took an internship at his school. I’m thankful I was given the opportunity to work for Phil. He’s one of those people God used to flip my life from one path to another. He showed me what grace looks like- when one person allows another to be imperfect. Through Phil, the Lord began to build in me the concept of love we know as agape love. It is deep, and doesn’t need emotion to endure.

I don’t know where I’d be without my friend Phil.

The Dating and Waiting

Like I mentioned earlier, Phil rarely talked about his lady friends. His dating pattern was consistent, date and move on to the next. Before Emma, I recall one serious interest: Becca. They seemed to be a good fit. They both loved being outside, and she could handle his bravado. The only problem was she didn’t want him.

At the time when Becca said no to Phil, he was 35. I know what that feels like. Rejected at 25 sucks, but you pick yourself up. At 35, it’s natural to wonder “is this gonna happen for me.” I’m sure Phil had those thoughts. It’s tempting to get desperate. Phil didn’t.

He met Emma 10 years later.

Emma Is Different

Unlike Bob and Kelly, I would not have put Phil and Emma together. She’s from Texas, neat, orderly, and believes in etiquette. Her politics are on the right side of center while Phil maintains his more socialistic Aussie values. And, she’s a bit younger than him…by 15 years. Despite all of it, they are perfect together.

I want to clarify. They are not perfect, but they are meant for each other. Who could’ve seen it coming? I didn’t. Phil didn’t. When Becca rejected Phil, Emma was a teenager. Yet, this is God’s goodness too.

Weird Encouragement

When I start to sink under the weight of dating self-pity, I think about Phil. Even before he met Emma, I’d think “Phil is nine years older than me. I can make it too.” Now that he’s married I still take comfort in the knowledge a man as awesome as Phil was single into his late 40’s. (Sh*t, I’ve known lesser men to who were married, divorced, and remarried before Phil made it to the alter.)

The True Lesson

The tricky part is what we label as patience. Sometimes we call fear patience. We pass on something good because we are broken and afraid to fail. But, when our heart is united with His we let go of anxiety and pain. What that looks like can be getting married at 18 or 45.

The biggest open secret in the Universe is this: When we let go of control and let the Lord lead, our lives with twist and churn, and are greater than we could plan. Following the Lord, running after His best, isn’t a formula. It’s a relationship based on trust and faith.

Be like Phil. Follow the Lord. Let Him lead. Stay patient. He’s got your back.

Lord, thank you for Phil. His influence in my life is without equal. Thank you for rewarding his trust and patience in You. And thank you for allowing me to see it.

Amen.

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Nik Curfman 12/14/20 Nik Curfman 12/14/20

Journal: #147 Worship is a Weapon

Sometimes, words aren’t strong enough. They seem to fail and betray the conflicts hidden by my skin. In the hidden place, where songs sing to something greater than my pain, I find the vein of the everlasting God. There’s humility in it. What I am saying is, “Lord, I’ve got nothing but the words given to me by someone else. I love you, and I want you.”

My roommate is in Texas till February. When it hit me how long he’d be gone, I thought I’d be in danger of isolation. Turns out, I was wrong. His absence gave me the space to unwind, and fill my apartment with worship and unrestrained emotion. Lots of stuff is bubbling up, and it’s good. The Lord is moving in me.

Heavy Day

Today is a day I hear a hundred strong voices urging me to follow their lead, and even my dreams accuse me of failure. The cynical, the proud, and the ashamed seem to rise above the rest. Who is right? Fear is weaved into all it. Should I be afraid?

No.

Hell, no.

I shouldn’t.

I Want to Punch Them All

I’m tired of politics, COVID, and cancer. I’m sick of people fighting and looking for evil in one another. My heart weeps for those who think the Lord would withhold Himself. I just want all the voices to shut the f*ck up. They’re all wrong.

Aren’t we suppose to think what is pure and holy (Phil 4:8)? How about love our enemies? Turn the other cheek? Make peace? Hope all things, believe all things, and never take to account a wrong suffered? Build each other up? Trust in the Lord?

AND HE WILL SUPPL ALL OUR NEEDS!? Honestly. What the actual f*ck is going on?

The thing is…I know I’m being a bit of a hypocrite when I complain about people. This post is proof I am not: thinking about what is good, turning the other cheek, hoping in all things, or fully trusting the Lord. Time for some grace and love for yours truly.

One more thing, I’m running out of words.

Worship Is Holy

I’ve written, prayed, and talked more than ever this year. I filled three journals, and recently began a fourth…this year alone. Usually, I need 1-2 years to fill a journal. This is my 147th Journal blog post. When added to the 25ish other posts, that’s over 170 posted writings. And, it’s futile to count the time in prayer or talking to others.

I don’t think the Lord has a problem with repetition, but my brain is on overload between writing and my job. My heart needs to be able to speak without having to think, which seems like the perfect time to enjoy worship music, again.

Coming Out of the Shadow

It’s been a while since I wanted to worship the Lord through songs written by others. Call it resentment or bitterness, I just wasn’t into it. Most of the worship people I know are heavily flawed or fake. My judgment kept me from entering into a scared place with the Holy Spirit.

Even in my self-imposed exile, once I made it to church worship was my favorite part of the service. What we sing to the Lord isn’t about anything else but our love and appreciation for Him, so it doesn’t matter what the worship tweeted, or how douchey his wife is.

Have I said 2020 is Good?

In 2020, worship became my hiding place, and now I rarely listen to anything else. (Although I do enjoy Christmas music, including the non-Jesus stuff.) Worshipping the Lord through music has become the thing I have to connect to Him when all else fails and my emotions rage hard the other way.

There’s one song that’s risen above all other worship songs for me. It’s old by modern worship standards, but it translates to a holy place in an instant. Praise the Lord, Oh My Soul as written by Kevin Prosch. Even though I’ve listened to it for almost 25 years, it’s fresh every time I sing it.

Shut Them Up By Singing Out

Today, with all the voices screaming to be heard and obeyed, I put the music on. Eventually, I made my way to my favorite song. Within moments all I could do was sit on the staircase and cry until all the pain and frustration left.

Sometimes, words aren’t strong enough. They seem to fail and betray the conflicts hidden by my skin. In the hidden place, where songs sing to something greater than my pain, I find the vein of the everlasting God. There’s humility in it. What I am saying is, “Lord, I’ve got nothing but the words given to me by someone else. I love you, and I want you.” This honesty does something my eloquence can’t. It opens my doors to let Him flood me with Love and Peace.

All the other voices slip silent, and I behold only Him. His whisper is no longer drowned by the agony of a fallen society. Hell is gone, and Heaven is revealed in me.

Praise the Lord, forever. Oh my soul, praise the Lord.

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Nik Curfman 12/13/20 Nik Curfman 12/13/20

Abstraction: My Honest Prayer

Time to let Love be what it is, our great covering and unifier.

Lord, I’m going inside now.

Give me the grace and humility and kindness to be part of your church.

I can hear the shouts and amens from the parking lot.

There’s storm clouds overhead, dark and cold.

I can’t make out the words but I can feel the rhythm of the music from where I stand.

The wind is starting to shake the tree tops.

I’ve been standing in the this parking lot for twenty years.

Listened to the songs and felt the beat.

Even said my own prayers.

I learned a lot out here on my own, how to stand, to love.

But this storm is new, unlike any I’ve seen.

Now is not the time to be cynical, afraid, or self-righteous.

We need each other. I need them, and they need me.

Of course, I’m worried. I ain’t them.

We read the Gospel but see a different Savior.

Their’s is a harsh and cruel God. And, needs evil men to accomplish His will.

Mine needs us, His people. Not a pussy grabber.

Still, the thunder once distant, is now getting close.

Time to let Love be what it is, our great covering and unifier.

Lord, I’m going inside now.

Give me the grace, humility, and kindness to be part of your church.

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Nik Curfman 12/13/20 Nik Curfman 12/13/20

Journal: #146 Nice vs Kind

Coming out of this year, I am trying to learn two important lessons. 1) How to reset the broke places from a place of kindness and love, and 2) It’s easier to start a relationship from a place of kindness and honesty. If someone rejects me, that’s their problem. I’m not a dick.

“You’re a nice guy.”

It’s the single worst sentence in the dating world, because it doesn’t mean anything. Flowers are nice. And, you know what? We leave them in stale tap water until they wilt. Then we throw them in the trash. That’s what nice gets you.

What is Nice?

Nice means inoffensive and agreeable, which is where the insecure and afraid find shelter. By being agreeable we find most people will make favorable assumptions about us. Because, if they knew the truth…

Have you ever said that to yourself? I have, many times. If people only knew what I was like inside, they wouldn’t think I was nice. They might not like me at all. So, I kept up appearances. I held onto to people to avoid being alone, and being nice was my superpower. It’s how I overcame my inner conflict.

I grew up in Southern culture which values appearances over truth. Any time I let out my real thoughts or interests, I was chided or ridiculed. It reinforced my belief. I had to be nice. Ultimately, this wretched cycle led me to one conclusion: something is wrong with me. I struggle to be nice and honest. Better to be nice and have friends than alone and honest.

God is Not Nice, He Is Kind

In early 2014, the Lord made different arrangements for me. I found myself in Redding, California starting a new life. My community was full of emotionally intelligent people who celebrated people for who they are. Nice is not valued, but kindness is. To be honest, I didn’t know the difference.

I do now.

What is Kindness?

Kindness honors the disgraced and doesn’t run from hard conversations. It is honest and courageous. It’s not harsh with the truth, but strong and gentle. As Paul told the Romans:

Better think this one through from the beginning. God is kind, but he’s not soft. In kindness he takes us firmly by the hand and leads us into a radical life-change.
Romans 2:4 (The Message)

Kindness also values itself. And, its foundation is in love. Kindness is everything nice wants to be but doesn’t know how to pull it off. Kindness comes from a deep well filled by the Holy Spirit. It’s not concerned with short-term losses and changes in community.

Kindness Can Hurt

When I look back to the relationships I lost this year, I know it’s because I was nice. I was likable and intentionally contorted myself into being so. When the time came for me to reset those friendships, it was seen as being judgmental or unkind.

I get it. No one likes to be told, “our relationship is broken and this has got to change.” It can feel like a blindside and harsh. Perhaps I was harsh. I think that’s a valid criticism. But, just as valid is the idea I need to be honest. When a friend or family member believes they have the right to be verbal and emotionally abusive, it’s on my shoulders to stand up for myself.

Gotta Keep Going

My biggest challenge in being known is going to be my tolerance for rejection. Kind people are often rejected because they speak the truth, no matter how gentle they deliver it. The truth is often seen as harsh aka not nice. But…kindness is love. It brings tears to my eyes to know I will be rejected in my attempt to love someone. (What does that say about our world?)

The other side of this is I can’t go on being a nice man. No one respects the nice guy. I don’t respect the nice guy. He’s a doormat. All he does is take people’s shit, and I’m no toilet. We are to bear one another’s burdens, not suffer their abuse.

Sweet baby Jesus, thank you opening my eyes to my flaws. I needed to see how nice is not kind. Nice is not love. Kindness is love. Kindness is life-giving and it is who you are. I’m afraid of the mistakes I’ve made and will make. I ask for your grace. Amen.

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Nik Curfman 12/12/20 Nik Curfman 12/12/20

Journal: #145 Snakes And Worms

Snakes in the road. Worms in the garden. That’s life with Jesus.

Last night I had two odd, and apparently unconnected, dreams. They were both flashes of a dream lasting mere seconds. I nearly forgot about them if not for my usual stroll with the Lord this morning.

Dream One

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In the first dream, I walked down a long road through a landscape similar to the one in the picture- the western United States. The next part is a bit odd, and as I said in the intro it all happened in a few seconds. Suddenly, no longer walking, I was pushed or pulled by a force I could not see…by my head. And, my head was on the ground. I wasn’t comfortable, just odd. Then, snakes. My head started to encounter packs of small snakes in the road, and they were mad.

The snakes were dull yellow and orange, They laid in tight bunches on the road, and hissed as I neared them. I believe they tried to bite me, and perhaps did. Regardless, they couldn’t hurt me. I recall thinking “this is odd,” but I was unafraid.

Dream Two

The second dream was similar. It was brief, more like a picture or gif than a full dream sequence. Again, my face was close to the ground. Instead of a road, this time it was green grass after a steady rain. I noticed the ground was alive and moved. It was worms, healthy earth worms. Then, the dream ended, and I continued to sleep.

How? Are These Connected?

Since my roommate is gone till January, I decided on a lazy start to my Saturday. At 9 AM I was still in bed, then I heard the Lord say, “Let’s go for a walk.” It’s a good thing He did. I wasn’t motivated to do much, and my head was filled with thoughts about recent political events. After I got dressed, made coffee, and began a load of clothes, I finally made it out the door.

My walk was a typical mix of focused prayers and random thoughts, punctuated with a few tears. The route I took was my usual route up the hill into the retirement community of mobile homes. In my ming, I wondered if the Lord had something for me, or if He was merely encouraging me to do something He knew I wanted to do.

Stupid Snakes

On my way back I noticed a collection of rubber animals outside one double wide. They are always there, and they feature a set of small snakes. In that moment I began to understand what the Lord wanted to communicate today. Up to that point, I’d forgotten all about my dreams from last night.

For the next few minutes I spoke to the Lord about snakes. They are predators, liars, and were after my mind. These weapons of the enemy hang out in packs, and are only effective if I stop to entertain them. These snakes are all the lies I believed in the past- I am a loser. I am not good enough, no one loves me, etc.

In His goodness, the Lord reminded me the snakes cannot hurt me, if I keep walking with Him. Snakes will always be part of the road, because it part of life in this earthly reality. It’s ok. I am made to overcome them. Every time.

Glory Worms

It would have been a good morning if that’s all the Lord showed me, but He wasn’t done. 50 feet from my front door, crawling across the sidewalk toward a patch grass was an earth worm. I didn’t need to ask the Lord a single question. When I saw the worm the Holy Spirit downloaded the answers into my soul before I asked the questions.

The worms are a sign of health, as worms help recycle dead biomass into fertilizer. And, the abundance of worms in my dream meant the Lord is working to grow my garden, even if I can’t see it. He’s working.

Snakes Are Part of Life, Gardens Our Destiny

The enemy wants us to believe the lies. And, if we don’t believe the lies, he wants us to focus on the presence of the lies. You’re a Christian. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Something is wrong. It’s bullshit, and the enemy wants to turn our attention to anything other than Jesus.

The Lord is forever asking us to walk with Him. The invitation to meet Him in the Garden is eternal. It’s the place where we find life, grace, and love. And, He’s always moving. We are even destined to become gardens from Him, to host His presence and glory.

Snakes in the road. Worms in the garden. That’s life with Jesus.

The concept of the Lord moving in my life, without noticed or credit, is something I’ve thought about this year. Like worms under the surface of the ground, He’s never stops working.

The worship song below is my current favorite. It’s the Bethel Music of Osinachi Kalu Okoro Egbu’s Way Maker. Her original version is just as good.

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Nik Curfman 12/11/20 Nik Curfman 12/11/20

Journal: #144 I Was Scared

That lady’s flirtation shined a surprise light on my heart and emotions. It was a perfect moment to practice self-love and grace, and to be kind to myself. There was a time I would’ve given my left nut for a woman to flirt with me. I need to remember that.

It was a light playful punch to my shoulder, and it sent shockwaves through my soul. I knew it would happen eventually. This lady barely hides her attraction to me. I know she digs my vibe, but I’ve got nothing for her.

To be fair, I don’t think she has a big crush on me, and I did look good today. (Gotta give myself some credit.) I firmly believe she’d say yes to a date, which is not a what I want. I just want to do my job, and she is the second woman in the last month to signal she is open for something outside a professional setting.

It’s Ironic in the Best Way

For years I wanted female attention, because I viewed it as an indicator of my worth. It’s a common and terrible way to live life. (This is true any time we let other people decided our value.) And, I suffered really lean years where few if any women seemed interested in me. During those stretches, my self-esteem plummeted.

The irony is, the more I love myself the less I care what anyone thinks. My value is no longer linked to external events and people. I am loved and favored, and flooded with His grace and peace. So…the recent attention is lost on me.

I admit I have an existential fear of “being enough” for a woman. It is something I attack and face like man when I know it’s active in my heart. I will not make decisions or alter my life hoping to impress a woman. I am impressive as I am.

What About The Shockwaves?

Yeah, about those shockwaves. I don’t like to be put into a position to reject someone. It’s awkward. (The word reject is a bit harsh in this sense. I don’t respond, which I see as a soft form of rejection.) I default to questioning myself. Should I reject this person? What if I’m missing the boat?! She’s nice enough.

When the project manger slapped my back and laughed, I instantly felt like I had to do something. Then, I began to ask if I was ready to date someone. From there I started to asks more unsettling questions all in a blink of an eye. Like a shockwave. I was scared and frozen.

That’s not grace, is it? Grace is favor and an eraser. Grace says I don’t have to be perfect, and if I’m not attracted to a woman, it’s ok. She’ll be ok. God is good. More than that, grace screams OF COURSE YOU’RE READY!

Living One Day At A Time

Flirtation can be affirming in a healthy way, especially when I’m not actively participating in it. I don’t aim to encourage her either. Last thing I want to do is lead someone on, and I don’t think this person would say that I am.

My intention and aim is to take this events one by one, as they come. Life is better lived at a stroll rather than a sprint. It’s more enjoyable and creates room for emotional well-being.

Thank you Lord for being my friend. I love how you showed me how to love myself and others well. For that lady, I pray for her and her heart. Bring her a great man.

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Nik Curfman 12/10/20 Nik Curfman 12/10/20

Journal: #143 No Crutches For Me

I no longer own crutches. In their place, I’ve got long solitary walks and prayer. And when my feelings swell, I cry. I’m learning to live from my heart rather than numb out, and this is what walking in repentance looks like. I’ve turned to follow Him, whatever the cost.

In my post yesterday I wrote about being in process with the Holy Spirit. Each of us is. We are walking(or not walking) toward our garden with Him. It’s our destiny. Today, I meditated on grace, and what it means for my life.

What is Grace?

Humans have yet to agree on grace the way we agree on gravity or photosynthesis. This is how it should be. God is not a science experiment. And yet, we know grace when we experience it, when we see it on others. It is the favor and love of Father God for His creation, for us. Unearned and without end.

I have another way of seeing it: I don’t have to be perfect. My walk with Him is not on a tight rope. My task is to move, to keep walking with Him. Death can only catch me when I stop.

Before I go on I want to add this to any thoughts about grace. It’s not a random event or happening. We don’t lose it. Grace is an eternal and constant of life, pulling us to Him. We can’t turn off grace any more than we can switch off gravity. (So if we don’t see or feel it we are actively believing a lie. We are putting our minds above Him.)

My Testimony Of Grace

When I think about the evidence of the Lord’s favor and grace in my life, I think about the destructive habits and thoughts no longer part of my life. It’s not a short list. Without Jesus, I’m not here.

For brevity, I broke it down into two lists. This first list are the destructive behaviors. The second list are the harmful thought and beliefs:

Nicotine addiction. This should be obvious.
A brief dabble with alcoholism in the summer of 2011.
Binge eating. Chinese buffets were my heroin.
Porn addiction.
Lots of weed.
Angry outburst.
Lack of self-control.
Binge shopping.
Reckless driving. (Yes, this is a thing.)

And now, the internals. The grace to overcome harmful thoughts and beliefs is a deeper more meaningful victory. All of those sins above are a manifestation of an internal brokenness. Without further ado:

I’m a piece of shit.
No one really loves me.
If something(a relationship, job, journey, etc) is difficult, it’s not for me.
If something(a relationship, job, journey, etc) is difficult, I’m bad at it.
If I’m bad at something(a relationship, job, journey, etc), I will always be terrible at it.
I’m broken.
I’m stuck.
I can’t have what I want.
God gives other people more favor and love than me.
What I want isn’t good enough, so I’ve got to be someone else.
I’ve got to fix all the problems. (Not joking. I’ve lost sleep trying to fix major world issues.)
I'll never live up to an acceptable standard.
No woman will ever really love me.
I’m ugly.
I’m fat.
I’ll be broke for ever.
I’ll never see miracles or the supernatural.
I’m worthless.
No one would miss me if I died.
The pain is never going away.

All of these, every one is a lie. And through grace, I have overcome them. My brain and emotions are catching up to my spirit. It’s happening one day at a time. I must remind myself, I’m on my own timeline. There’s no one to impress.

Grace Needs No Crutch

On occasion, I try to shame myself for crying as much as I do. I need to have it together. Crying this much can’t be healthy, right? (I cry a lot y’all. Most days, and usually multiple times a day, I let tears go. Better out than in, as the saying goes.)

The thing is…for most of my life I ignored myself and didn’t address my destructive beliefs and thoughts. I ran to mostly to food when the shame was heavy. Then I pushed people away when I believed the lies about myself worth. At my worst, I smoked a lot of something and used porn to try to feel something other than pain. I used these crutches to drag my mangled soul from one moment to the next. Smiling for people while I died inside

I have to stop to reflect on it, to notice the transformation of the last two years. It’s a miracle. (How dare anyone judge me? Seriously. They don’t have a clue.) The Lord cleared my way with a purpose in mind. And, while I can’t describe what’s ahead, I know it’s big.

I aim to stay centered in Him, to fulfill that purpose. Thanks be to God.

Lord, I offer all my love and appreciation. The evidence of Your hand in my life is overwhelming and powerful. I’m so happy I’m still alive, and I will testify to Your goodness.

Amen.

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Nik Curfman 12/9/20 Nik Curfman 12/9/20

Journal: #142 I Am A Garden

[i]f we struggle on, let Him pull the weeds, we become a garden. We become the place where His hands are most productive. Today, I forgot I was in process. I forgot I don’t need to be perfect. Once I remembered I’m a man in process and the people around me are in process, I found patience and peace.

I haven’t discussed my daily Bible reading, but I will today. It’s time.

I felt overwhelmed by work today, so I went for a walk to center myself. I hate feeling like a failure, like I’m going to fail. It’s like someone is holding a sign over my head and it reads “FRAUD.” Fortunately, the trail was empty.

I made it up the path, passed the big oak tree, then broke down in tears. All of the things hit me once. And, I hate that I still think about people I’d rather not think about. It’s the worst.

It’s NOt As Bad As All That

In the grand scheme of my life, my situation not as bad as I make it sound. The fact that I go for walks and make time for myself is progress. More importantly, I am in process. I am evolving as a man, and it requires grace.

Scripture As Seed

While I prayed, I remembered the parable of the Sower. That story helped get me through my breakup last summer, and it helped me get through today. This is the Message translation of Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23.

1-3 At about that same time Jesus left the house and sat on the beach. In no time at all a crowd gathered along the shoreline, forcing him to get into a boat. Using the boat as a pulpit, he addressed his congregation, telling stories.
3-8 “What do you make of this? A farmer planted seed. As he scattered the seed, some of it fell on the road, and birds ate it. Some fell in the gravel; it sprouted quickly but didn’t put down roots, so when the sun came up it withered just as quickly. Some fell in the weeds; as it came up, it was strangled by the weeds. Some fell on good earth, and produced a harvest beyond his wildest dreams.
9 “Are you listening to this? Really listening?

18-19 “Study this story of the farmer planting seed. When anyone hears news of the kingdom and doesn’t take it in, it just remains on the surface, and so the Evil One comes along and plucks it right out of that person’s heart. This is the seed the farmer scatters on the road.
20-21 “The seed cast in the gravel—this is the person who hears and instantly responds with enthusiasm. But there is no soil of character, and so when the emotions wear off and some difficulty arrives, there is nothing to show for it.
22 “The seed cast in the weeds is the person who hears the kingdom news, but weeds of worry and illusions about getting more and wanting everything under the sun strangle what was heard, and nothing comes of it.
23 “The seed cast on good earth is the person who hears and takes in the News, and then produces a harvest beyond his wildest dreams.”

We Are Gardens

We are all on continuum, a trek, a whatever-you-want-to-call-it journey through life, and most of us are trying to live the best life we can. The parable of the Sower is about the process we go through as Christians in our walk with the Lord.

We all start as roads unable to receive the goodness of the Lord. Then we decided to be open our hearts to Him. We go from being a road to a rocky field. There is joy in the beginning. It’s good.

If we continue to run after the Lord, we removes the rocks from our fields. And, He sows more seeds in us. In His wisdom we are allowed to see the weeds grow too. This is where many Christians are stuck, faced with flaws and shame.

But if we struggle on, let Him pull the weeds, we become a garden. We become the place where His hands are most productive. Today, I forgot I was in process. I forgot I don’t need to be perfect. Once I remembered I’m a man in process and the people around me are in process, I found patience and peace.

Thank you Lord. Thank you for scripture and love and everything You give us. You’re wonderful. I love ya.

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Nik Curfman 12/8/20 Nik Curfman 12/8/20

Journal: #141 Career Changes

The time is right, and marketing is not my future. To clarify, I enjoy marketing and the life it affords me, but the idea of being a project manager is boring. If I view my time in marketing as a place to learn how to trade and develop my portfolio of funds, I’ll survive.

When I was a kid, I loved opening the newspaper to the Business section. I usually skipped over the reports and went straight to the columns and rows of tiny numbers. They were so neat and orderly. In a way I couldn’t articulate at the time, I knew those numbers told a story, and I was eager to read it.

My interest in the stock market and trading is of my origin, meaning I gravitated to it of my own volition. Since I am over 40, and still interested in it, I aim to do something about it- to scratch the itch if you will.

No Time Like The Present

A week ago I sat down to begin a module on “Content Marketing.” I’m taking classes to help me improve what I do and my value to the company. Halfway through I had a thought,”why don’t I learn about something I love, like stock investing?” The real question is what took me so long to ask? LOL. I don’t know, but I’m here now.

Eyes Open, Proper Expectations

It’s a bonus that I’m old enough to heed the wisdom of others, and I have time to pick up a new trade. I’ll need both. Trading options is not for the greedy or ignorant. Modern day traders need discipline and a refined strategy to make money from market gyrations. It’s not about buying low and selling high, but reading the signals and deploying the best strategy on a given day. The pros make money coming and going.

What I Learned From Poker

I expect to lose money, especially early. Every craft requires a learning curve, and this is no different. However, and not to be arrogant, I think I have what it takes to be a professional trader.

For twenty years, I’ve developed some mad poker skills. I can remember the last game I lost, but I think it was in 2013. Even then, I didn’t lose a lot. I played in a weekly tournament and routinely finished in the top three of a group of serious players. Oh, you want to know how this applies? I get it.

Poker is not about bluffs, tells, or whatever crap you see in movies. Serious poker players play the odds and watch the cards. We know if I flopped four-of-a-kind, then all I’ve got to do is slow play the pot to make as much money as possible. Likewise, I might have two high pairs. a pair of Aces and Kings. Yet…that’s a weak hand, easily beaten by three two’s.

Poker is about discipline and sticking to a strategy. Most importantly, it’s about getting out of a hand when you know you’re beat. Lose a little, stay in the game. Lose a lot, no more game. It’s called chasing, and I see it every time I sit down to play.

How It Applies

I don’t chase. I play probabilities. When the odds aren’t in my favor, I fold. Then, it’s onto the next hand. I find having a short memory helps, win or lose.

Whenever I read about what day traders do and strategies they use, they could interchange the word “stock” for “cards.” The pros talk about discipline and taking small wins. As one man put it, “A successful trading day is not when you make a load of money, but when you stick to your strategy.” I’m down for that life. I’ll take small wins over the prestige of “hitting it big.” Most people who try to go hard usually end up losing big.

I’m not sure how long this career shift will take. My first guess is it’ll take me two years to fund, learn, and begin to be a successful options trader. Then maybe by year five, I’ll be in the money- like this-is-my-job money.

So…yeah. Get ready for those periodic updates, and Lord…bless me with patience and willingness to learn from my mistakes.