Journal: #253 John & Natalie Take Risks

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Early this morning, I slung my coffee into an empty water bottle and hurried down the Five to Sacramento for the day. I went to meet up with John and Natalie, who recently moved back to California from Atlanta. Today marked our first proper visit in three years.

I met John on my first day of first job in Redding. He was in his early twenties then, tall and charismatic. We worked side by side cold-calling prospects, which he took to like a fish to water. I was a bit more of a cat in a bath. I never liked sales and was glad when I finally quit the last sales job I’ll ever take.

John and Natalie met in Redding via BSSM and got married eight years ago. What I love about there vibe is their willingness to be who they are and take risks. They aren’t content with normal jobs and getting old. And then, there’s “her book.” Natalie’s book has been in process for at least seven years, having existed in some form for the last 5 years. Today Natalie told me she has completely rewritten the entire novel over the last three months. Why? Because. They are taking risks.

Natalie was case worker for a local autism non-profit when I first met her. Also tall but less charismatic than her husband, she is thoughtful and even-keeled. What her and John share most is a thirst to try new things, visit new places, and find adventure. When other couples their age think about buying a house and producing offspring, Natalie and John moved across the country, visited Turkey, Portugal, Taiwan, and Singapore, and tried their hand in at few small businesses.

After we ordered coffee, John began to fill me on why the sudden move back to California. It’s about “her book.” In the quest to get it published, my friends made a baller move. They decided she needed to write full-time. To afford the income reduction, they moved in with his parents…so she could write. I love it. I love she quit her job to do something she has to do. Maybe it gets published, maybe it doesn’t. Even if it is picked by an agent and published by a House, the book could flop in the eyes of readers. Still, so what? Success at any of those steps above would be amazing. Every rejection will sting. That’s the way it is. And yet…the unthinkable doesn’t happen if she doesn’t write or submit manuscripts.

I’d love to be that husband one day. I’d love for my wife to say “I’ve got to do this,” and then I do whatever is needed to help her make it happened. I’d rather be rejected a hundred times, than regret not trying. Admittedly, I want a wife who will do the same.

After a day of coffee, strolls through downtown Sacramento, and Chinese grocery stores, I hugged my friends and started home. Once I cleared Sacramento city traffic, I began to thank the Lord for my friends. They are unique in my life in character and vision. Of all the couples I know, I like their marriage the most for those reasons. They honor what the gifts the Lord gave them and step out in faith. It’s fun to watch.

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Journal: #252 Celebrate Victories

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Yesterday was the first “good” day since…January? I’m not sure. And by good I mean to say a day where I felt good about me and my life. I still battled some anxiety and sadness, but only in small bouts. This morning I woke up in a bit of a funk, but quickly snapped out of it during my morning walk at Lima Ranch. I like the direction I’m headed in life, and look forward to the summer months to come. My heart feels relieved and eager to move into this next season.

As I reflect on the last five months, I feel as though I cleared a significant test of my heart and mind. On the heels of last summer’s heart ache, I was highly motivated to shed my chains of fear and self-doubt. The Lord opened up my world, and I found a certain ease in the uncertainty. As summer churned into autumn, my motivation began to slip, as the path ahead of me began to form. In my heart, I knew this decline in optimism would happen. Most new ventures are curbed by reality. Still, I pushed through. Winter held the cruelest gifts, and my only goal was to continue to show up- to seek Jesus everyday.

So now, as Spring blossoms, I reap the fruit of my labor. I have beheld the goodness of God in every season, and it is my joy to confirm Matthew 6:33 is more than bullshit words from a dead philosopher. The promises of Jesus- the Messiah- are truth. I have fought through shame, sorrow, depression, anxiety, apathy, anger, arrogance, pride, distraction, and lies to seek first the Kingdom. If I could tell the world anything, I would parrot what the Lord told Peter, James, and John in Matthew 17:

4 Peter broke in, “Master, this is a great moment! What would you think if I built three memorials here on the mountain—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah?”

5 While he was going on like this, babbling, a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and sounding from deep in the cloud a voice: “This is my Son [Jesus God], marked by my love, focus of my delight. Listen to him [His promises are real].”

(The Message)

I’m glad to be where I am today. The last ten months tested my faith and determination, and I expect more the same in the future. For today, I will celebrate this victory. I felt knocked off my mountain, but I put my trust in the Lord to lead my back to the summit. As Jesus said, the Lord did. That’s the greatness of a true and living God.

Show up. It’s worth it.

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Abstract: Where I Am Today

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It feels wrong,

to give up on something,

I believed was good.

Keenly,

I’m aware,

I was the only one who dared believe such a thing.

Every relationship,

is about two,

always two.

Their hopes and fear,

past and preferences,

pain and desires.

One cannot carry two,

be the source of joy and peace,

or dismantle doubts and fears of the other.

Every relationship,

is about each of the two,

each fighting for themselves and the other.

She stopped fighting for herself,

for me,

and sunk into her shame place.

Still,

why is it so hard for me,

to give up on her?

Why does my heart cling to hidden hopes,

of a moment orchestrated by God,

an epic resurrection?

I have no answer,

so I offer none.

This is where I am today.

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Journal: #251 10,000 FT View Of My Life

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Being a human, in my experience, is wild.

Yesterday, I sat in my automobile and drove over one-hundred miles from the coast of California through the Trinity Mountains to valley west of the Cascade Mountains. Before my drive, I conversed with a 60 year-old minister from Florida via video conference. I conducted the chat from a room I rented from a stranger I found on the internet. We discussed her business and strategies to put her message into the ears of receptive listeners. What a life. What a time to be alive.

I sat in silence during the ride home back to Redding. I could’ve listened to music or a podcast, but I decided to enjoy the sound of the road. The sun was high in sky and only a few thin clouds joined her. On occasion I imagined I was in a race, choosing my line as the road weaved through mountains. While I drove, my thoughts bounced from my marketing clients to the beauty of northern California to the Lord. It was the perfect day for a solo drive back to my norm.

This week I spoke to friends and family alike, people battling tragic situations and threatening health problems. In these moments, life feels untamable. Why did my best friend lose his brother to cancer at the ripe age of 34? Will my roommate ever value himself, his time, and his dreams? It’s been ten months- I should be over her by now. What’s the pattern to any of this? How can we predict what’s to come? The plain truth is we can’t.

This is my life. It’s full of glory and grace, wonder and mystery, heart ache and sorrow. I wouldn’t exchange it with another. I wouldn’t trade my debts, excess body fat, or singleness for anything. (Which is not to say I desire to remain in each state, but I will not shame myself or wallow in self-pity over them.) The life I live was given to me by God. My family, my friends, and even my ex’s were God ordained. Whatever is left of my life, the end unknowable, I will thank the Lord for every second I am given.

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Journal: Celebrate #250

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Today, I celebrate Journal post 250. And, after some proper calculations, I am still on pace for 330 posts by July 11th. Why July 11th? Because. I started this blog on July 11th, 2020. It’s a date that changed my history.

I am proud of what I’ve accomplished the last nine months. Through considerable highs and lows, I continue to write and express. It serves my heart as only I can.

Mostly, I’m proud I decided to put my faith in the Lord. He’s the one shining a light on the dark rooms of my heart. He says, “Remember this?” And, either instantly or eventually, I recall what’s in these forgotten chambers. The writer. The artist. The man who’s greatest life goal is “to love people.” The analytical. The emotional. The visionary. The strong. The brave. The faithful. The prophetic. The worshipper.

On days such as this, when I survey my life, the empty room in which I sit, it may appear as though I’m drifting through life. I feel lost and alone. But, it isn’t true. I’m hiking my mountain. My hand in His.

I’ve come a long way over the last 3-4 years. This post, #250 is proof. I’m not the same cynical, angry man I was. I’m daring myself to live on the edge of what I believe and who I am. On occasion, it’s fucking scary.

The trick of gratitude is to engage it everyday. I’m thankful I’ve written 250 posts. Writing this post caused me to recall my writing journey of the last year and beyond. It’s good to see the path I’ve walked and know the goodness of the Lord through it.

Thank you Lord. Thank you for everything. Literally. Everything.

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Journal: #249 Depression Returns

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I slept ten hours last night, which is unusual. Eight hours is my normal max. After eight hours, my hips and legs begin to ache and I start to feel restless. But, last night I feel asleep at 9:30 PM. It’s a sign.

I sleep as a means of avoiding life, as if I can sleep my way though disappointment and shame. I know I can’t. That’s not how life works. It’s a tactic used by those suffering from depression. So, odds are, I’m suffering some form of depression. All the symptoms are there, and I know them well. Had this been a younger Nik, I might start to eat my way into another thirty pound weight gain. I might hide and cry behind closed doors.

That Nik is dead. I might be battling depression, but I will not lose. I will not relent to shame and guilty, rejection or anger. I believe in me. I believe in the Holy Spirit in me. I trust the Lord to guide my heart, through this shitty experience, where all I want to do is change everything about me. He says You are loved and worth of love. And Your heart will be full. I will change nothing, rather I will cling to Jesus. I will cry and feel my heart mend. I will pray and use words only heaven understands.

Depression is an old adversary, but I ain’t the same Nik. I choose to fight for me. For the people I love. And the promises God gave me.

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Abstract: A Gift For Both Of Us

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When I was a chubby child,

yearning to be loved,

I thought of Natalee.

She was the standard,

of beauty and brains.

Naturally, I did nothing with my crush of feelings,

I let her slip away.

I was ashamed of who I was,

my clothes,

And, my church.

Nothing about me was good enough for her,

A lie that dictated my life,

Far too long.

Then there was Mary,

Cathy,

Heather,

Faith,

Alison,

and some others.

Each one of them experienced the fake me,

The imposter,

Desperately trying to be anyone else.

To be confident, brash, strong,

Prepared, and wealthy.

Now, I’m a man,

still kinda chubby,

No crushes to endure at the moment.

But, my praise rises to heaven,

as I consider the hell I was saved from,

because I’m not yet married.

She would’ve married an insecure boy,

a loving person,

but an imposter nonetheless.

She would’ve had to endure his flops and anger,

his sudden changes and emotional outbursts,

his self-loathing insecurity.

God’s Grace,

no woman will have to endure or persevere,

The worst of me.

Whoever falls in love with my heart,

The one who won’t let go,

She’ll enjoy the best me.

A gift to us both.

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Journal: #248 A Promise From God

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I’m out at the coast to begin my week. I scheduled this trip weeks ago not knowing just how timely it would be. Most of the drive out here (Blue Lake, CA) I prayed, and at times I cried. My goal was to enjoy the drive through the Trinity mountains along various rivers and creeks, which is quite beautiful.

After I settled into my AirBNB, I went for a drive north up the 101 toward Oregon. There’s an amazing lookout just off the road north of Klamath. It’s a bit of a drive, but every view and turn make the trek worth more than the time and energy given to complete it. No regrets.

The last stop I made was at a beach with black sand and powerful green waves. I walked to edge of the surf and breathed in the salt and the sea. Then I broke.

Five years ago I stood in these same beautiful forests. It was the first time I let myself feel a need for woman- a partner, a best friend, and a companion. Since then, that seed has grown to become a thriving desire I cannot ignore.

I thought she was it, but she wasn’t. (Oh God did I want her. Finally, someone I could love forever.) For all her faults and flaws and immaturity, she was the one. At this point I’m not sure what I was to her. I don’t know what stories she tells herself about me.

The devastating aspect to this whole thing is I almost had what I wanted. I want someone to love, who will let me love them, and receive it. I want to support her dreams, cook dinner, hold her hand at family events, and walk with her when she sinks into Valleys of Death. I want to love and raise our children to be strong and compassionate Jesus-loving people.

As I left the beach yesterday, I began to sob about my empty heart to the Lord. Lord, I’m not a whole person. I just want to love someone for the rest of my life. I feel like a loser. This isn’t writing or drawing. I’m only half of the equation. And the Lord did answer: “Your heart will be more full than you can comprehend or expect.”

Typical Jesus, He cut through the fear so effortlessly it jarred me out of my self-pity. He gave me a promise. Deep in my soul, I know it will be fulfilled. I will find a great woman, and we will love each other till death. In between, we will walk together through every pile of shit, though every desert valley, and over every mountain. We will stop to delight in the blooms of spring, find cool water during the summers, and marvel at the autumn colors. We will travel places and meet people. We will love each other and others fiercely. And we will lavish Grace and favor on our community.

That’s my future. My ask is the Lord prepare me for her. (And, her for me.)

I trust you Lord. Thank you for your promise in the midst of my trial. Thank you for doing everything you said you would in Matthew 5- to those of us who are poor in spirit, crying out for righteousness. You answer with hope and love. I love you Father. Thanks for walking through this with me.

Amen.

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Journal: #247 More Faith, Like The Old Faith

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Yesterday was the day I finally accepted the fact my ex-lady ain’t coming back. It took ten months to get here. Now, I feel drained and completely alone. The grand motivation to “prove myself” to her is gone. It’s just me and the Holy Spirit.

The choice I now face appears different than those I faced before, but it is not. Last summer I faced the dissolution of my business partnership. My choice was to stay in an unhealthy situation or trust the Lord. I chose to trust Him. And, he took care of me. The only difference between that moment and this one is I wanted out of the business. It was an easy trust.

The big difference between the partnership debacle and the breakup is I wanted to get out of the partnership. I didn’t not want to break up, which is why I held on as long as I did. The setup looks different but my choices are the same. I can ignore what is happening in my heart and mind, and eventually self-destruct under a pile of shame and porn. Or…I can do what I did last summer. I can enter the fog.

The fog is a place between me and Jesus. It’s the place I go to give up my ideas and wounds, to find peace and trust.

A few weeks ago the Lord said I would have “new life” which was attached to new motivation. I can’t help but believe fully letting go of my ex is big part of that. This moment is about me diving ever deeper into the Lord. There’s a transformation coming for me, where I’m no longer motivated by the thoughts and opinions of others. That’s what I’m being offered- a change to completely own who I am and break a cycle self-loathing.

My life can only improve the more faith I am willing to exercise. As much as this hurts, I fully embrace it. What waits for me on the other side of this heart ache and process is a more confident Nik, and that’s what the world needs.

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Journal: #246 Heart Broken, Again

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For ten months I left the back door to my heart open. This morning I realized, she ain’t coming back. Rather, I accepted the fact. My heart ripped anew as it considered the following: whatever reason or rationale, she doesn’t want me. Now, I must move on to find the same state: I do not want her. The thing about that is…months later some part of me still help hope.

Since last May, I repeated a mantra about my ex-lady. I told myself and the Lord, “Father, you know what I want, what’s in my heart, but I trust you. Your will be done.” I meant it, but wanted the former. I loved her. I mean lay down my life, sacrifice whatever it takes, committed to death loved her. I’ve never felt that way about anyone. I wanted her, and held onto faith while we dated. It was by faith I asked her out, and by faith I let her go when she was overwhelmed at the end. And now, almost a year later, I sense this is the end for me and my hopes for a resurrection. It’s time for a new kind of faith.

I’ll talk more about that tomorrow.

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Abstract: Your No

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My yes was real,

it was eternal,

and committed.

So is your no.

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Abstract: Be Me

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I stepped to the podium and gripped both sides with sweaty hands,

the expectant faces staring up at mine, ready for my words.

The burden on my heart to produce a nugget worth holding onto,

grew quickly as I surveyed the audience.

Then, I spoke.

without cheap jokes,

or identifiable cadence.

I thundered from point-to-point.

My goal was to show them who the Lord created me to be,

That we don’t all sound alike, have the same stories, or present the same.

When I finished,

I received no applause,

No pats on the back.

I accept that.

I’m not here to be something they know,

I exist to be me,

My original copy of Him.

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