Journal: #245 Shedding Approval

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My stroll through the fields and forest of upper Churn Creek this morning produced the type of moment I’ve been desperate to encounter. The Lord was there, and He was a kind and honest as ever. So was I.

Since the beginning of March, I’ve felt unmotivated. I’m not angry or upset, although possibly a bit depressed. Today I realized one possible explanation for my lack of gumption is I feel alone. To clarify, I feel loved and appreciated by my friends and family. What I mean is, I feel like it doesn’t matter what I do. So, what’s the point? Am I really excellent at a thing if no one is watching? In these thoughts lay the deep flaw of my heart. Why do I crave the approval and approval of others? Even down to writing and drawing, it’s as if I need praise.

This entire line of thinking/fear is a trap. I can’t wonder through life by the affirmation of others. I need something else.

I spoke the Holy Spirit about my problem. The response was perfect. This is the season to be who I am, especially because no one is watching. Last summer and fall I held out hopes a certain lady would notice me. As that light has flickered out, I am without a star to navigate my heart. What if I choose wrong? What if I’m not accept to anyone? What if I fail at being me? The Holy Spirit told be the next few months are exactly where I need to be. My task to continue to show up, with any major promises or rewards on the other side. This time is special because no one it watching. Use it to love on you, and vanquish your old demon.

If 2021 is the year I finally shed my need for approval, it’ll be a great year. My best life requires strength to be who the Lord called me to be in face of criticism, praise, or in the stillness of the spring of 2021. I’m here for it.

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Journal: #244 Fighting Through Lies

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Yesterday, I had a few thoughts ripple through my mind. They were the kind of negative thoughts I am determined to fight- what are you doing? You’re not really going anywhere. You’re stuck. They are all lies, old lies, the type a younger Nik would wilt under upon thinking them. Fortunately, I’m older Nik. I’ve been through some shit and I know how to respond to fear and lies.

I’ll start by believing this is a moment of grace. My body is recovering from my fling with nicotine, which comes with consequences. My emotions are running from one extreme to another. It’s what happens when my body decides to hate me. (God bless people coming off something like heroine or meth. I can’t imagine the physical and emotional hell it must be.) The cravings are subsiding a bit today. I’ll take it. I will also forgive myself for poor choices, and ask the Lord to hasten my return to a healthy respiratory system.

Next, I won’t answer the accusations my fears are lobbing at my mind. Fear must never be fed, never placated or pacified. Fear must be starved and neglected. He’s the loser in the corner with a sharp tongue. He craves attention and will use any trick in his book to get me to stop what I’m doing, and I know I can’t stop. Every week or so, the Lord encourages me to “keep showing up.” That is my task- to move in faith and hope, to find gratitude in every moment, and declare his righteousness over my life.

The last part of this fight is about faith. Who do I trust? What is true? I trust God Almighty. I know He’s got my back. I can fail a thousand attempts, and He’ll hand me opportunity 1,001. He’s met me in every valley and back alley. The Holy Spirit is my constant friends and guide. Over 20 years ago, the Lord promised He’d never leave me. Promise kept. These are the truths of my life.

I am loved and worthy of love. His banner over me is love. I’m strong. I am smart. I am faithful. I am thankful for all the opportunities in front of me, and I accept the joy of the Lord as my strength.

Amen.

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Journal: #243 Choose You

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For lunch today, I ate with an old friend. He’s one of the first people I met when I moved to Redding, and remains one of the people I stayed loosely connected to over the my time here. He “started a business” aka joined another MLM/marketing scheme. At this point, I don’t care. Some people make a lot of money working those pyramids, but most do not. I hope he’s one of the few who does.

He came for a lunch visit to discuss how to market his new “business.” I gave him my honest take on MLM companies and how best to go about build his organization. (My biggest problem with MLM’s is the focus on growing the “down-line” aka recruiting people to sell. What ends up happening is the focus becomes recruiting, not selling product. Eventually someone has to sell product. So I told my buddy how to focus on selling product to money-paying customers.) At one point during lunch he had me read a vision statement, which included his why. It was passionate and well-written. My heart broke for him. As far as he’s come, he’s still nibbling at the edges of what the Lord has for him.

No one wants to work in a pyramid scheme, just like no one grows up longing to clean toilets or work the late shift in a customer service call center. We take these jobs because we must, and there’s no shame in it. We’ve got to eat, keep the house warm, and replace old underwear. If we’re lucky we can save a few bucks and plan a vacation. This is life for most Americans. For whatever reason, we stopped pursuing the dreams in our heart. We turned back from our aspirations to service our demands. There’s no shame in hard work, but there is shame if children go hungry.

My friend is guy with a wife, with kids, and mortgage. Running after his dreams isn’t something he thinks is possible right now. He’s doing what we do in this situation. He’s putting his effort into a secondary pursuit. He wants “passive income.” Then one day…when he’s satisfied his fears, he’ll run after that thing. Except that’s not true. More money will lead to more expenses. The only way off the hamster wheel is to jump and never go back. It fear that keeps his feet to fire and afraid of failure.

My conversation today reminded me of me. I was him until last summer. I wish I could show him how he’s taking the long way around the mountain- that he can start to build and grow his dreams today. I wish him success, but I don’t see it. I sincerely hope I’m wrong. If I’m right- in six months- he’ll come calling again. Another business idea he doesn’t love, but believes is more viable than what’s in his heart.

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If you’re reading this, please, pursue what the Lord put inside you to do. You don’t have to quit your job or ignore your commitments. But, for the love of God, you owe yourself and the world. You owe me. The biggest problem in the world isn’t sin or conflict. The biggest problem in the world is it is full of people denying themselves the grace and love required to be the unique creation the Lord made each of us to be. Fear is a sonofabitch. Lies are the worst. When they work together, they keep us tied down in cycles of bullshit and resentment. No one is worthy. It’s not about that. The best lives are lived by those who grab life by the horns and never let go.

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Journal: #242 The Addict’s Lie

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I quit smoking cigarettes in 2018 after seven years of an on/off again relationship with them. I learned a lot about me that year- mainly how I lied to myself to protect my addiction. Over time, I distilled all the bullshit lies down to one outright lie: My life is better with this (drug, cigarette, person, habit, etc) than without. Since then, I’ve learned the best parts and people in life, A) give life and carry the fruit of the spirit(peace, love, hope, joy, faith, love) on their backs, and B) are usually free.

So, why am I talking about cigarettes and addiction? Because. I’m day three into withdrawals symptoms, and if this blog is going to be a living document of my experience- my highs and lows- I’ve got to include the self-destructive lows too.

Yes. I quit smoking in 2018. That’s a truth, but not the whole truth. People I know and love smoke back East. Whenever I go for a visit, I would smoke with them. Since most of my visits were short, I could handle having a few cigarettes. It’s not the healthiest choice, but I made it. And…I just finished a seven week stay in the Carolinas. I had a more than a few cigarettes during my stay, and now I’m suffering the consequences of my decisions.

Late yesterday was the worst, and I anticipate today being similar. The nicotine is officially out of my blood stream, and my body is not happy. I can feel my throat and lungs tighten as they send signals to my brain. As of right now they are whispering their desire for a puff or two. At some point later today, they will scream in anger demanding to be satisfied. Part of this process is deconstructing the the lie above, that my life is better with a cigarette than without. It’s not true. My life most certainly is better without tobacco. But, when my body physically craves nicotine, it’s a convincing lie.

Part of me feels shame for falling back into an old habit, but part of me doesn’t. Mostly, I feel shame for keeping it hidden. The truth is I don’t want to smoke cigarettes. It’s smelly, expensive, addictive, and causes a thousand forms of death. I don’t want to spend the end of my life having various organs removed or pulling an oxygen tank behind me. I kept it hidden for various reasons, but mostly because I know my non-southern community would not approve.

This post is about me being honest, willing to expose my flaws in real-time. It’s tough. I didn’t write this a month ago because I wasn’t ready to give it up a month ago. I didn’t want to live in the light, not on this. Eventually I began to feel dishonest, which led to self-condemnation.

I want this to be the final battle with tobacco. No cigarettes. No cigars. No pipes. (In all fairness, cigars and pipes are not nearly as addictive as cigarettes. The chemicals in cigarettes are legion and evil.) Part of me wonders if I should create a law for myself -“Thou shalt not” - or give myself freedom to choose moment by moment. I tend to do better with freedom than restraints.

Lord, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt my body with toxic chemical and smoke. And I’m sorry I covered it up. I feel like a hypocrite by asking for help, but I’m asking all the same. I’m thankful for this body you gave me. Teach me to care for it. I want to squeeze as much life out of it as possible.

Amen.

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Journal: #241 Value What Jesus Values

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The Lord was real sweet to me as I drove from Sacramento to Redding today. He told me how He’d always been with me, through every second of my life. Upon hearing those words, every painful memory I own surfaced as if on parade. On cue the Holy Spirit said, “I was there for all those moments too.” After a beat I tried to think of my favorite memories. Immediately my mind went to what have I accomplished? The answer- depending on your point of view- is not much. So I asked God, “What are your favorite moments of my life?” He just laughed. “What I value, you do not value. And, I have many.”

How humble and Godly is it to value the small, forgotten seconds of life? Apparently, that’s what the Lord love about me. Sure, graduating college was great, so was the day I decide to forever walk away from suicide. One improved my life, and the other preserved it.

I want to do more of that. I want to value what Jesus values in myself and in others. I’m as guilty as anyone for looking to the “big” moments of life, for grand gestures, and displays of affection. And my regular readers will know I battle the need for approval. Approval generally comes through accomplishment, but that’s not the Lord. I mean…how do we impress someone who already loves us, favors us, and cheers us on?

I aim to find out.

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Abstract: Nap Sack

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I got a nap sack,

empty on my back.

I want to fill it with every strain and fear,

of the people I love.

I want to carry this tares far from here,

to the land of never more.

Unfortunately, that’s not how life is,

I can’t carry pain someone won’t give up,

or heal a heart broken by life.

It’s not my calling or purpose.

I’m a light,

on the hill,

I’m meant to shine,

That’s the Lord’s will.

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Journal: #240 Headed Back to Redding

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It’s my last night in Columbia. I’ll be back in three weeks, but I am sad nonetheless. When I arrived I carried hope with me. As I head back to California that hope is still alive, but I feel guilty. My heart and spirit are ready for the journey west. Redding is my home. I miss it. I miss the slow traffic, chill culture, and the slow topped mountains. I’m looking forward to my solitary strolls in the forest and youthful friends. Redding is the place I grew into a man, a faithful God-loving man. If I could pack my parents in my bad I would.

When I arrived I thought my dad would be knee deep in cancer treatments. Turns out, the doctors continue to order tests. So we’ve waited, which is not awesome when the attacker is cancer. Aside from its general destructive of healthy cells, it also robs its prey of time. It robs us of hope and disrupts our lives, demanding attention better wasted on a beach or backyard swing. As previously stated, I still have as much hope as I did the day I arrived. It’s the waiting, the tests and more tests, and every little unanticipated turn. It’s a sort of exile where making plans seems premature, yet necessary. That’s what wears me down.

Hope and faith are essential to walk with the Lord, especially in moments such as these. Every step of the process is as it should be. I can’t change what has happened. I can make room for the Lord to be God and choose to believe it’s not all about me. Hope and future are gifts the Lord promises to us in the midst of every furnace. We aren’t alone struggling through it. The Father is at hand in every situation if we have faith to latch onto to Him. So, Lord, be with me as I travel back to Redding. Bless my steps and my words. Guide my heart into fertile fields of joy and peace. Heal my parents and love them. Shout your love and approval over their lives, and lift them upon the Rock of your grace.

Amen.

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Journal: #239 My Need For Approval Will Kill Me

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Over the last two days, I’ve thought a lot about what my blog posts were when I first started eight months ago. They short and focused. My writing was unapologetic, and gave myself the grace to use words like fuck without censoring it. It was vulnerable and raw. I want to get back to that place of reckless honesty. Be assured, I haven’t been dishonest, but last September I let my job begin to influence my writing. It’s time to stop.

What Happened?

What had happened was…I began a course on content marketing which included a section on blog writing. Successful blogs need to so many words. They need to use H2 and H3 headers, numbers lists, and various forms of media. Then I started setting goals. I wanted a certain number of readers by next July (and unless a miracle happens I will fall woefully short of that number.) I began to turn my blog, my shelter to the world, into something other than the outlet it should be. I placed burden on my writing, my prose. I think I lost a bit of my voice along the way.

In fairness to myself, I never stopped challenging myself. I’m always going to push the line and hold myself accountable. I see this moment as a bit of an adjustment, necessary and good.

The Lord told me, in late January, to stop looking at numbers. It was an encouragement to show up and write, to give myself freedom to be me. I lasted a few weeks, then slowly began to review my analytics (website data) here and there. Then, everyday. This has to stop too. I’m not writing for you. I write for me and for Him. I write because it serves a part of me designed to arrange words and confess my reality. When I allow data to dictate what I say and how I say it…I’m letting the oldest fear creep back into my life.

That Sonofabitch Need For Approval

In my line of work, numbers are everything. To be a creative, they cannot this way. To be me, they cannot be everything. If my approval comes from how many people read what I write, I’m fucked. I’ve robbed myself and the world of the best part of me for the sake of the acceptance. It’s a battle I’ve won before, so I’ll asserts my rights as the victor now.

Lord, help me. Thank you for pointing me the right direction. My biggest challenge is to be who I am, but I know it’s what you asked to do.

I accept your offer.

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Journal: #238 Finding My Way Back

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Earlier today I read back through my oldest posts on this blog, which began last July. I’m surprised I liked what I read. Some of it was sharp and engaging. Very honest. I’m proud, particularly of one of my first poem titled Three Years, Old. I’m also a fan of this blog post: God’s Not Deep. As I peered back through my first month of writing, I remembered the energy and hope in my heart. I didn’t have goals or plans, not a soul to impress. It was me, Jesus, and my electric journal.

Last summer was one of the sweetest moments of my life. On the heels of some huge disappointments, the Lord poured Himself all over me. I stood with my mouth open, trying to drink up every drop. By the fall, I was working full-time and beginning to develop a vision for my life. Vision led to specific dreams, and dreams to goals. In the process I lost something, or I felt like I did. Something about concrete goals feels very limiting.

2021 is off to a challenging start. And I often feel as though I’m running in wet cement. My mind wonders back to last summer, the undefined hope it held. My dreams have become burdens. They are burdens I feel I’ve got to impose on the world. It’s not true. I’m wrong. My dreams are not burdens and they require faith.

On my evening stroll I told the Lord about the heaviness in my heart. I told Him about last summer and I how I feel like I’m fighting to get back to that place. Then He gently reminded me this time is special too. My heaviness concerning the future is what happens when I think it’s about me. It’s not. My walk with the Lord is about us. My future isn’t set in stone. Whatever I think I’m going to do in ten years may change tomorrow or in six months. Either way, my faith isn’t in my plans or dreams. It’s in the Lord. Of all the ups and downs of the last ten months, I’m glad I found my way back to Jesus being my future.

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Journal: #237 Ordinary Miracles Part 2

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I promised a part two of Ordinary Miracles, and here it is…

The belief and ability to hear the Lord speak is a miracle, which depends on how we define the word miracle. For my purpose I define a miracle as a supernatural event. A supernatural event is any time our natural world collides with Him. He is not “natural.”

Miracles often have lasting effects i.e. the resurrection of Jesus. Regardless of your point of view it changed the world. Of course, a Christian like me would say that, so I’ll offer another less obvious miracle: Paul’s assertion we are all one in Christ. The case can be made the modern day idea of equality comes from Paul, particularly Galatians 3:28 and Colossians 3:11. He tore down gender, economic, and ethnic lines in poetic verse. No one prior to Paul made such a bold claim.

Back to miracles…They happen. And the more I look for them, the more I find. Last summer, when pressed by my then business partner, I agreed to end our partnership and relinquish my ownership. I didn’t know what was next. I didn’t have a plan. But, I did have faith. A month or so later, I called a friend to go for a short hike around Redding. As we walked through the woods I gave him all the details of my failed partnership (and separate romantic relationship.) Then he asked, “what are you doing now?” In truth, I picked up a few odd marketing jobs but nothing substantial. With all the confidence I had, I told him exactly that. I was now in marketing and looking for work.

A few minutes later, I had more work. It’s the job I have now. A job I was not qualified to have, but has blessed me beyond comprehension. It’s great to work with people who believe in me. And when I went to meet my friend it never occurred to me he could offer me work. Not even once. It’s a miracle.

And now, back to ordinary miracles, specifically the prophetic. Make no mistake, God talks to his kids. The problem with the prophetic is we are often wrong, blind, or biased. We insert our voice for His, miss what He’s saying, or skew the message to fit our vision. It will always be this way. To improve our ability to hear God is to listen requires courage. Somethings we can’t hear until we aren’t ready to accept them. My personal example is I tend to hang onto women for far too long. I want the Lord to tell me it’s going to work out with whoever just broke up with me. The truth is I will end up marrying going some wonderful woman.

Issues aside, the Lord still speaks and His voice is kind. I forget how special it is. Thousands of years later, He still wants to walk and talk with us. The Divine Good conversing with human of time and space. I don’t want to lose site of what is really happening. Part of the process is remaining faith when I miss the message- when I superimpose my will or desires over His. Additionally, I want to continue to write down every single word He gives me, because I want to partner with Him to reel them in. Far too often I fallen into a sort of Christian fortune-telling experience, as if I don’t participate in my life. Fate isn’t real.

I conclude by saying I want to remain grateful for every moment with Jesus. Entitlement is a killer. I’m not entitled to anything. The fact I hear the voice of God on a daily basis is special. I want to nurture and grow it each day.

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Abstract: He Is Me

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He’s got a strong voice,

sounds an awful lot like mine,

and he lives in cracks of my mind.

On a day like today,

He’s hurling fear,

in anxious waves at my heart.

But, he’s forgotten,

I’ve know him my whole life,

and I know he’s scared.

He’s afraid of the future,

that he’s alone,

that all road to a blank desert.

I forgive his outburst, his shudders,

Because, I love him.

His tortured taunts are his cry for grace.

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That guy,

He’s wrong.

I forgive his outburst, his shudders,

Because, I love him.

His tortured taunts are his cry for grace.

After a few deep breaths,

I whisper my kind response.

“You are loved and worthy of love Nik,

It’s the melody playing in the background of your life.

In that Eternal Love,

is a thousand new beginnings,

and a Shelter from every anxious moment.”

Journal: #236 Bounce Back

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Bounced Back, As Expected

Well, today was a pleasant bounce back from yesterday. I expected it to be so. Before I fell asleep last night I told the Lord, “tomorrow is going to be different.” And it was. The general lack of motivation is no more, and I found my emotional center as soon as I woke.

New Ideas Are Fuel

For those who don’t know, I live in the world of what’s possible. I love to consider options and create new ideas in my head. As soon as I woke up today I imagined the site redesign you see now on the homepage. I’ve got a few more tweaks, but I feel really good about it. I think it looks a tad more professional and less slapdash. (As it should, since I work in the world of digital marketing and site development.) To those who visit this site on regular basis, let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts and opinions on my new design work.

The Fun Is In The Winning

A thought now imbedded in my mind is the best parts of life come after a hard fought victory. Last night, everything inside me wanted to blow up my life, for reasons I can’t explain. Instead of self-sabotage, I chose to do what’s made me successful over the last year. I showed up. I walked. I wrote in my physical journal, and I prayed. I did all the things. In between my confusion and desire to give-up, the Holy Spirit responded to my efforts. It’s amazing what can happen when I make room for the Lord to do what only He can do. Today was a day of victory over anxiety and depression.

Sudden My Ass

What I believe in less and less is the idea of “sudden” advancement. It’s a concept popular in charismatic/prophetic circles I frequent. The idea of sudden advancement is akin to winning a spiritual lottery, and it’s demotivating. God is not bestowing His grace and favor randomly or to a select few. The more I run after Jesus and pursue the Kingdom, the more my life improves (Just as Jesus promised.) It may look sudden from the outside, but it’s a patient grace and act of submission. Whatever I am today and will be tomorrow is the result of twenty years of walking with Jesus. There’s nothing sudden about it.

What I experienced today- the bounce back from bullshit- is the product of working with the Holy Spirit. It’s about being present, declaring life over myself, and refusing to concede to darkness. It’s taken me years to get to this point, which I do not wish on anyone. My hope is people around me are less stubborn than I was. I took the long way around the mountain to be the spiritual giant I am today, *wink*.

Love y’all. So does Jesus. Embrace it. Own it. Love thyself.

(I know I promised a Part 2 to Ordinary Miracles. It’s coming. Tomorrow.)

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