Journal: #261 The First Nine Weeks

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I’m sleepy and genuinely uninterested in writing this post. Good thing I decided to have some goals for the next 20-ish weeks, eh? Eh? Yeah. It is good. The central thesis for my summer goals is I want to double-down on me, and continue to dive into what the Lord planted in my heart. And, I divided the the next 20 weeks into three sections: a short two-week sprint while I’m in Columbia, the first nine weeks, and the last nine weeks.

These first weeks are focused on finding the joy in the little acts and tasks of life, of being creative, and enjoying who the Lord created me to be. Then, I will move onto The First Nine Weeks, which I want to be more ambitious. Additionally, I want the first nine weeks to serve as a spring board to the final nine weeks. Without further delay, here are those goals:

1. In support of my goal to lose 40 pound this summer, lose 20 pounds. I plan to accomplish this by adding yoga to my workout schedule, hiking more on the weekends, and eating clean.

2. Learn. I love to learn, but haven’t made much space for it. Starting May 4th, I’ll spending 30 minutes/day learning a new marketing skill, and 30 minutes a day increasing my investment and trading skills.

3. 45 drawings. The long-term goal here is to draw/paint/sculpt everyday. It’s a battle though, one I’m willing to fight.

4. Finish 330 blog posts. Technically, I won’t finish this goal during the first nine weeks, but I’ll be close. The pace I’m on will get me where I want to be, and I’m excited to reach 330 posts. It’ll be a big deal and proof I can set a goal and achieve it.

5. Lastly, I want to take some bomb photographs of the parks and night sky on my camping trips. After my return to Redding, I have three camping trips in four weeks. Then a few more planned for the summer. I look forward to the quiet and the dark skies of each night.

That’s it for the first nine weeks. I’ll check back in on them when I start in May.

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Abstract: Finally, Accountable

This is Walter Scott running from a cop in Charleston, SC. Without video Mr Scott’s death would’ve been ruled self-defense. As you can clearly see, the officer was in no immediate danger from Mr Scott, and certainly not in a life-threatening situation.

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When I was a kid,

and the police shot a man,

it was always in self-defense.

Case opened and closed,

no investigations,

no trials.

Then the wheels of time turned,

our phones into cameras,

and we learned,

the reporters were wrong.

On May 26th, 2020 the official Minneapolis PD statement read,

“Man Dies After Medical Incident During Police Interaction”,

on the day Derek Chauvin choked George Floyd to death.

I suppose a Yankee medical incident is the same as Southern self-defense,

when there aren’t any people of justice,

willing to risk their lives for the defenseless.

Yet, even with video, eye witnesses,

and a wrap sheet a mile long,

Some still think Mr Chauvin is innocent.

Seeing is not believing,

because racism is a liar,

with the ability to justify any horrid act.

But…today is a day to celebrate a victory,

to soak in the only verdict acceptable before God and humanity,

Derek Chauvin is guilty.

Drink in what a functional justice system looks like,

hold it with both hands,

close to chest, and tight.

Today the Minneapolis Police Department was held accountable,

the next step is justice,

and a reality where the Derek Chauvins do not have the opportunity to protect and serve.

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Journal: #260 Two Week South Carolina Sprint

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In my last post, I discussed my summer goals. Better said, I wrote about my desire to have them, but lacked details. This post will reveal my goals for the next two weeks while I am in Columbia, South Carolina. (I am here supporting my parents as my dad finally begins treatment for prostate cancer.)

Since 2021 is turning out to be another unpredictable year, I decided to keep these next two weeks as simple as possible. As much as I love style and pushing boundaries, certain seasons of life are about the basics of living. That’s what I feel like these next two weeks are about. I want to enjoy my time with my parents, spend time with Jesus, write, and go for walks. In order to do all of those tasks successfully I have a few small goals in mind.

1. Get in bed by midnight every night. While this may seem easy, it isn’t. I tend to sleep later into the day when I’m on the east coast, so I think it’s in my best interest if I set on alarm for the morning. 8 AM is hardly early, but my body will not see it that way.

2. Eat well. You’ve seen it promised as part of the marketing for every diet- you’ll feel better and have my energy. All diets make this promise: keto, vegan, Mediterranean, Aktins, etc. My testimony is it’s true. The right diet will improve your energy levels leading to better overall attitude and cognitive functions. The best diet for me is low-ish carb, high omega-3, veggie heavy, and plenty of lean meat. I think some people who No sugar, grains, alcohol, or bad fats. Easy on the cheese. My optimum diet sits somewhere between paleo, slow-carb, and keto.

   (The reason my optimum diet doesn’t neatly fit into one prescribed diet is as follows: paleo doesn’t not allow for dairy, legumes, or coffee, slow-carb does not allow fruit or dairy, and keto frowns on fruit and legumes. I believe fruit is healthy as are legumes [beans, peas, etc], and a bit of cheese is necessary to enjoy of life.)

3. 10,000 steps/day. I could easily leave this one off this list, but I won’t.

4. 4 drawings, 7 poems, and 13 blog posts. Each one of these tasks is personal. They don’t really serve anyone but me, and they are how I value myself. I haven’t drawn anything in a month. I’ve struggled a bit lately to write poems, and while I’ve continued to post Journal posts, I’d like to pick up the effort a bit. It’s time to begin to actively love myself again.

So that’s it. Really simple and attainable stuff. I want to win the next two weeks, so when I return to Redding I’m on a roll.

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Journal: #259 Gotta Have A Plan

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Something dark and afraid fell off my mind late Friday evening. For months I' felt a mysterious doom crowd my thoughts, and Friday I sunk under the weight of these fears. Then with a few concise prayers and some warm tears, I pushed through. I stared down my enemy, prayed, wrote, and worshipped anyway. I giggled as peace returned to my being. It’s wasn’t a particularly dignified moment, but it was memorable. The simple act of saying I’m still here, unlocked a flood of Heaven’s glory,

I needed a breakthrough. In this transition season from Old Nik to New Nik, I need little shot’s of love from the Lord. I’m not just walking away from on old way of life, but old friends too. It’s bizarre. And, in September, everything will change again. The Lord has a purpose for my sojourn into ministry school, and I’ll have dozens if not hundreds of new friends very soon. Goodness is coming and I am open to it, whatever form it may take.

As of today, I a little more than 140 days until the beginning of school. The expanse between today and that is like a being at the back of long line for a rollercoaster, so I need a plan for the next 20-ish weeks. I decided to break the summer into three parts: the two-week South Carolina sprint, the first nine weeks, and the final nine weeks. The goals is to be the most me I can be. LOLOLOL. What I mean is, I want to spend as much time outside, drawing or sculpting, writing, and investing as I can. This season is a season of moving on. I’m convinced this is how I do it, by doubling down on me.

Over the next 3 posts I’ll go over each part of my three part plan to rock this summer. See ya tomorrow.

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Journal: #258 To Love Me

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I thought last summer was the fight of my life, for my person and future. It wasn’t. Last summer, under the motivation to prove myself worthy, instead I made significant strides toward how I interact with myself. With all the external motivation gone, I’m left to myself. So now what?

The idea that last summer prepared me for this year is not new. As soon as the bullshit of 2021 began to roll in I knew 2020 was a setup for what was to come. In 2020 I learned to live from a place of faith in the Jesus, what loving myself looks like, and how to persevere. The last domino to fall was the final acceptance my ex wasn’t coming back. 2020 finally dead, it’s seed beginning to sprout in my life.

In September, my life will change again. I’m looking forward to it. For the next 15 weeks, the fight will be to love myself and be the best me without and external motivation. My opportunity is to continue to show at His feet and attend to my heart. That’s my summer task, to love me.

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Journal: #257 She’s Looking For Me

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The older/wiser I become, the more I know what to look for in a woman. Long gone are fantasies and misplaced expectations. The fights will come, and in those moments choose to be in it rather than run. Does she love herself? Honor herself? Believe in who the Lord says she is? Or, does she expect her partner to provide all the answers? You don’t have to know me to know I’m looking for emotional intelligence and self-possession. I’m want her to have some answers.(And hugs. Always hugs.)

While walking through the forests of Churn Creek, I prayed about my future mate, mainly I’m tired of waiting. And yet, I’m glad I’m single. The joy I have for what the Lord did in my life over the last year is gigantic. I’m where I need to be. As I relieve myself by the creek, I had a thought strike me so hard I began to cry mid stream. Yes. While I peed, I began to cry due a simple thought. There’s a woman looking for me. To think, there’s a fine lady looking for me? The notion never occurred to me.

As I type this post, I am the most me-ee I’ve ever been. I know who I am and what I want. I know how I want to spend my days, nights, and weekends. What a time to be alive. And what a perfect time for her eyes to be open. Who am I to complain? The Lord saved me from being old and full of regrets.

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Abstract: People

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When I stand on one side of a canyon,

my dusty feet aching to explore the other side,

I can see the bridge long before it exists.

My mind creates solutions, timelines, and predicts hurdles,

the problem has a clear answer,

easy enough to deploy.

My sight is limited to these tasks,

of learning and building,

the predictable sequences of life.

What I cannot envision is her,

the lady of my heart,

and our family.

I cannot see her face or imagine what she smells like,

what see wants in life,

or how will she love me back.

There’s an ease to a task,

a job and it’s work steps,

a to b, then to c.

People are not tasks,

we are a thousand variables,

beyond measure or human intellect.

And I wouldn’t dare pretend to understand us,

so because of this divide,

I cannot see my future with other people.

I cannot predict who will be my friend,

who will live or die,

who will love me and give me there all as I give mine.

The challenge of this moment isn’t to define a new process,

create a checklist of avoidable fears,

or slink into despair.

It’s to lean into Faith,

the river that begins when I stop trying,

and relinquish my grip of control.

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Abstract: He’s Not Me

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Somedays I wish the Lord hated me the way I hate me,

one eye on what I did wrong, the other on what I haven’t done at all.

I wish He’d level me with His judgement,

and declare my soul inept.

But, that fucker* doesn’t do it.

I know.

I’m not suppose to refer to the Lord,

Creator of All,

Prince of Peace,

as a fucker.

I’m not suppose to hate myself either,

but here we are,

driving our way through all types of new territory.

Of course, Jesus is not a fucker,

or hater,

or judger,

or condemner.

I am those things.

I write people off,

places I don’t like,

and crappy restaurants.

I’m the fucker,

I’m the imperfect vision of heaven.

And for all my vulgarity and bravado,

He’s still my friend, my strength, and my God.

His thoughts are not my thoughts,

His declarations and promises never revoked,

and His love is the optimistic-faith kind of love.

It never fails or stops trying,

It’s kind, patient, and generous.

Even when I am none of those things,

He is forever who He is,

the true and great I Am.

*I don’t ask anyone to understand why I cuss in my writing. Please respect it. In my view, the last thing the world needs is another safe/sterile Christian unwilling to talk about their low points and frustrations in real language.

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Journal: #256 Championship Bullshit Fighter

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The grace and kindness of God blew me away this morning as I sat on a couch. In that moment I felt like a worthless loser. In my mind I failed at few tasks, and that failure meant I was worthless. In my self-pity I cried out,”How bizarre is it You require nothing from me? No tests or qualifications!” I said that because I feel like the world demands perfection, and I demand perfection. I expect never-ending success and happiness, despite my wisdom and experience.

I find it annoying I still battle insecurity and doubts. My place in the kingdom is secure. My heart is married to His heart, and yet…I occasionally find myself down the rabbit hole, halfway to Idiotville. On days such as this I find it difficult to appreciate my emotional nature. I have no idea what it means to ‘feel dead inside,’ but on days like today I’d like to try. (But not really. I like myself and my strong feelings.)

What I find humorous in all this- these moments of self-pity and regret- is how deft I’ve become at fighting the bullshit. If…I looked at each of these moments as a test, I’m killing it. I know how to fight, because the Lord taught me well. He taught me how to recognize bullshit, how they oppose His promises, and gave me the tools to defeat them. In this light I am no longer depressed I still battle bullshit. Perhaps a day will come when I no longer need to battle, until then I’m happy to consider myself a winner- a Championship Bullshit Fighter.

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Journal: #255 Time To Explore

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As I wrote yesterday, I am looking forward to the coming summer months. This morning on my walk I prayed about it. Last summer was such a sweet moment in my life, I’d love a repeat of sorts. After my break ups (business and romantic), I dove into the Lord without a plan. It was glorious. He held my hand as I faced my future, unafraid of what was to come. I loved that moment, because I was unburdened by expectations or goals.

Ten months later I have goals and vision for my life. With this new map, a certain tension has returned to my heart and thoughts. I don’t like it. Goals and vision open up my world to the possibility of failure, and I hate failure. Better said, I hate what failure says about me. (I hate what I think failure says about me.) I want another awesome summer, but the judges in my head can destroy the brightest moment with ease if I let them.

No. This summer will not be like last summer. It can’t be. The summer of 2021 will have a glory unlike any before. Why? Because. It’s the first summer of my life where I know who I am and what I want. That reality, that truth, is never a burden. It’s the key He used to set me free. Last summer was a time to build trust and dedication. This summer is going to be about diving ever deeper in my walk with Jesus and myself. It’s time to explore.

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Abstract: Summer’s Coming

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The grasses are tall and a deep green that grow along the trail,

And soon they will wither and die under the incessant summer sun.

What is vibrant and alive, dotted with white and violet flowers, will become brittle and yellow.

the lush landscape yielding to the season.

It is the a time of survival and escape,

of cool dips in the lake, river floats, and friendships with a pool.

It’s a time to explore the mountains to my north and east,

to discover their secrets and the glories only given to travelers willing to make the hike.

Life is full of these patterns dictated by the sun, her shine and her affects,

where we go and when, the beauty we behold once we get there.

Through all of these changes, cycles, and routines,

I affirm the confession of the Letterwriter:

“I was taught, by the Holiest Spirit how to,

in times of famine or drought,

flood and growth,

with my hands full or empty,

And no matter the condition of my heart,

or my state of mind,

I will do everything through Him.

I will swim in the summer and slog through the winter,

I will sing praise when I am broken and when full.

Regardless of the season or day,

He will always be my Sun,

My rain,

and my Earth.”

Amen.

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Journal: #254 Looking Forward to Summer

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Later this week the temperature in Redding will rise above 90°. It will be the first ant to the picnic. Many of his friends will soon follow. For our part, we try to hang onto the last pleasant days of Spring. I’m looking forward to high temperatures and endless sun. My plans include spending as much time as I can outside- hiking, swimming, finding shade late in the day when the temperature breaks and slight breezes cool the air. The odd part is I hated summer time, until last year.

I come by my dislike of summer honestly. The summer months in Columbia, South Carolina are a swampy oppressive mess. It’s humid from sun up to sun down, and the mosquitoes are aggressive. The only respite are the afternoon thunderstorms, but only on occasion. The aftermath of a banger ranges from delightfully cooler temperatures to a sauna like affect. There’s nothing worse than a mid-morning thunderstorm followed by even more humidity. The air sticks to your lungs and completely negates the purpose of our excretory system. I spent most of those summers mowing the lawn, dusting the den, and dodging vacation bible school. I desperately tried to avoid the bugs and haze.

Into my teen years, summer became about preparing for the upcoming football season. While I loved football, I hated workouts and practice. Then into my early 20’ through my 30’s, each summer became a time of endurance. I didn’t understand I didn’t need to hate summers (even though my heart loves autumn, her colors, cool mornings, and long shadows of each afternoon.) I had to embrace what summer offers. Only took me 39 years to figure it out.

As hard as last summer was, I found myself in the Lord. I rediscovered by heart and began to write. The Lord gave me vision for my life and led me onto a new trail. It was the sweetest time in my life, and in the matter of a few months erased my hatred of June, July, and August. The shift was sudden as I now find myself looking ahead to hottest months of the year. I expect to advance in life and in the kingdom this summer, because that’s my new normal.

It’s the goodness of God for Him to redeem something as small as how I anticipate upcoming seasons of life. And if He sweats the small aspects of our lives, how much more does He care about our bodies, future relationships, and jobs. Mucho. That’s how much more. Mucho. That’s the word I give myself, and I embrace all the promises He gave me.

Thank you Lord for loving me and redeeming time and seasons. You are good.

Amen.

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