Vol II: #21 Nervous As They Come

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Today is my first normal day in a while, though I have lingering feelings of guilt and shame over my missed routines. The easiest example is this blog post; it’s my first post since last Wednesday. I believe, without looking into it, the 96-hour layoff is the longest between postings. I’m trying to be gracious with myself, and remember I gave myself a few days this year to lay low.

Wednesday, I am scheduled to begin ministry school here in Redding. As I type this post, I am closer than ever to put in for a refund. What’s the point? I’m not a revivalist, and I’m not trying to be. I’m no kid or in need of someone to interpret the Bible for me. Plus, that $5000 tuition payment could help me launch a business.

My honest to God fear is this experience will be as disappointing as every other interaction with the church. They will preach about behavior and demand satisfaction, smile while they say “God is Good”, and see only my talents and/or skills. I’m tired of church leaders trying to use me. That’s not the Jesus I know. All of my fearful speculations beg the question: what was I thinking a year ago when I thought it was a good idea? I know the answer to that question, and I know how the Lord works.

The Lord will let us set our sails toward one goal, even when it isn’t the main goal. He does this because it gets us in the direction of where we need to be. The Lord is not a perfectionist. I know this because I was never “supposed to be” Jason’s long-term business partner, but it got me out of San Francisco. The Bible says “the gate is small and narrow is the way.” We get our “straight and narrow” saying from this misinterpretation. A better translation of Matthew 7:14 is “the walk with God is personal and long.” There’s nothing about our walk with the Lord being easy or straight. Detours and deadends are common.

Orientation is Wednesday, and I need all the peace and wisdom I can muster between now and then. Prayers appreciated.

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Vol II: #20 Love and Friendship Are Not The Same

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I can be a bit of an odd duck. Most people don’t tell others, “I don’t want to be your friend,” but I do. Today, I told a grown-ass man, “you're not my cup of tea,” after he extended an invitation to lunch. Mr. Will* is probably a good dad and husband. He’s successful in his career, and he introduced one of my best friends to his wife. Still, when his text rang out from my phone, I had a visceral reaction in the pit of my stomach, “I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE LUNCH WITH HIM!”

The main reason I told him no is simple: I don’t like Mr. Will. He dominates conversations and possesses a ton of spiritual ambition. By spiritual ambition, I mean he wants to be famous within the Christian world. The rest of us are along for the ride if only we could recognize his holy brilliance. He’s the type of guy who would be Tik Tok famous if he wanted to be. He craves validation, and I refuse to give it.

(The rationale behind my blunt rejection is Mr. Will is a sales guy. He was gracious in his follow-up text if a bit bewildered and possibly hurt.) Much of his success is based on his determination to push through passive forms of communication. Soft no’s do not work with him.

After the deed was done, I thought about my choices. (Of course, I did.)Did I do the wrong thing? The answer is no. I don’t like Mr.Will. Would I stop to help him on the side of the highway? Yes. That’s called love. Love helps those in need of help. But, love is not an automatic pathway to friendship. Friendship is a personal choice. I look at it from this perspective: it’s acceptable to reject a romantic advance bluntly. Therefore, friendship advances should be handled the same way as romantic advances. Our culture may frown on such an approach, but so what?

In my head, right now, are ten people I wanted to befriend. They, in their passive ways, proved they did not feel the same way. Their rejection still hurt me- every unanswered call, every one-word text response, three days later. Passive rejection is no less painful than direct rejection. I knew I didn’t want to befriend Mr. Will. I did him a favor by being blunt…I cut him loose. No wondering, no wasted effort. Be free little buddy.

I’ll end with this rhetorical question: don’t we owe each other honesty? I believe we do.

A couple of summers ago, I asked a pretty lady on a date. She, kindly and directly, said no to my face. Sure, I was disappointed, but I moved on. I appreciated her reply even though it’s not what I wanted. I hope Mr. Will sees my response for friendship similarly. I didn’t waste my time going to lunch with a man I dislike. I didn’t avoid him or passively string him along, and I honored myself.

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Abstract: Karma

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When the world plants a seed,

it expects a harvest.

X + Y = A,

And if not A, then hell to pay.

This is karma,

the way the world works.

But, this is not the Way.

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Vol II: #19 Honest Prayers

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A year ago- when I spent hours crying in the woods- I would’ve told you to be honest with the Lord in prayer. On the heels of a broken business venture and a romantic failure, I couldn’t keep the pain and disappointment to myself. My sorrow and shame bubbled out of me like a volcano, and the Father was gracious to listen. This process kept me honest and hopeful in the midst of the upheaval.

Sometime earlier this year, I stopped being honest with the Holy Spirit. I wasn’t dishonest; no one can lie to the Lord. But, I stopped talking about the deep hurts still in me and the day-to-day bumps in the road. I’d need a professional and a few hours of counseling to determine why I stopped. Whatever the answer, it must include embarrassment. I was embarrassed to continually talk about the same hurts. Some people love to complain without end, but I’m not one of them.

My desire to “get over” pain is a form of unhealthy pride, which is based on fear. I don’t want to be a whiney bitch. Right? Shut up. Be a man. Get over it. (Does that ever work, by the way? Does anyone just “get over” whatever held them up? I have yet to see it. We either act or remain frozen.)

Last week I read Philippians 4 and it crushed me. Paul was brazen enough to write the words “Be anxious for nothing,” which in modern context sounds like a burdensome command. But, it isn’t. There’s a translation of the New Testament by Kenneth Wuest. It’s said to be the most rigid translation from Greek to English available. The “Be anxious for nothing” verses look like this:

Stop worrying about even one thing, but in everything by prayer whose essence is that of worship and devotion and by supplication which is a cry for your personal needs, with thanksgiving let your requests for the things asked for be made known in the presence of God, and the peace of God which pass all power of comprehension shall mount gaurd over your hearts and mind in Christ Jesus.

With all do your respect to every other translation (I love The Message for its poetry, though it leaves room for improvement), I choose to believe Paul would approve of this version. And, what do we learn? Nothing new. How many times does an angel, Jesus, or the Lord say “be not afraid” in scripture? Many, many times. It usually comes when the Lord is in the room and we begin to focus on ourselves; our sins, weakness, and pain. “Be not afraid” and “Be anxious for nothing” are Biblical ways of saying “Everything is going to be ok.”

Paul goes on because he knows we hurt. He knows we have real fears and shames. Needs are more than physical, more than food on the table, or relational. Life isn’t simple and mental/emotional scars are more real than anything on our skin. Paul is well aware of the human tendency to stuff our needs and desires to the back of our lives. In the next few verses, he told the Philippians to take all their cares and worries to the Lord. In this practice, we will find the peace of God beyond words. That’s one hell of a promise.

Last night, I prayed about a few things I previously dared to discuss. It was by His leading. I didn’t want to talk about some old, old wounds. I prefer to think of myself as healed and whole. Regardless, that’s what we did. I snotted and cried my way through it. In the end, I felt that peace, and few pounds lighter.

I won’t divulge the details, but know this, the Lord fulfills His promises. Keep praying. Never stop talking about what’s important to you, even if it’s what you said yesterday. The Lord is all ears. He’ll lead you through the most painful moments of your life in ways you can’t fathom. On the other side is peace. Real peace. Stay honest with Him. He can take it because He already knows. Honesty with Him is really being honest with yourself.

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Abstract: Death, A Sweet Friend #2

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I’ve watched a lotta people scream at Death,

watched them blabber into the night ‘bout justice and God’s plan.

I’ve seen people walk away from Jesus because their childhood sweetheart suffered cancer,

to the final bitter end.

And, I’ve watched mothers wail as they lay their babies in the ground.

Every death affects someone,

for even a prison falls silent when an inmate is set free.

The constant reality of death, by the view of a few,

seems to negate the Power of tongues,

and Him.

But, this need’nt be so.

If every prayer to restrain the Visitor were answered,

and every life prolonged,

there’d be ten billion people on the planet,

and slavery, and women as property, and kings,

who rule over you and me.

Somethings only die when we do,

yes, it’s part of His plan too.

For when I die,

I take all my hurt and lies with me,

but the best of me will live on.

This is the way it is,

cliche as it is.

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Vol II: #18 I Don’t Have To Settle: Part 1

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As a digital marketer, it’s hard to exist without a Facebook account. Gone are the days of print ads and big-money radio spots. Online platforms are where it’s at, and they are way more effective. The only account I own is used to post ads for my clients. I started it when I ran ads for a BBQ company and friended only the owner and my girlfriend. If you know my story, I broke up with both my business partner and girlfriend. But, I kept the Facebook account- for work.

Last July(in 2020), I logged into Facebook to check on the ad performance of a new client. There, at the top of my feed, was a post from my ex-girlfriend. Over a year later, I can’t remember the details, but it included the phrase “I don’t have to settle.” I have no idea what she meant or what she referred to in her post. Naturally, I took it personally. I wish I didn’t see it, mainly because I wasn’t looking for it. During breakups, it’s common to check on the other person. I don’t know why we do this, and that’s not what I was doing. I did my best to leave her alone. It’s what she wanted. Nonetheless, I saw what I saw. And, it hurt. Again, I have no clue if she meant me.

The stupid fucking phrase “I don’t have to settle” is something I’ve said. Almost all of us have. Of course, none of us “have to settle” for anything. Settling is beneath us. We want the best. Blah, blah, fucking blah. It’s the phrase of idealists attempting to shield themselves from a bad choice. It’s the mantra of the immature and the restless. And nine times out of ten, that phrase is utter by someone who can’t tell you what they want.

Here comes the truth: when we say “I don’t have to settle” regarding the people around us, we show our asses. For one, no one settles for another. And two, how fucking belittling and dismissive. It’s one thing to say “we aren’t a good fit” and another to say, “this person is beneath me.” When my ex was anxious, and at her wit’s end, she becomes judgemental. So this phrase doesn’t sound unusual coming from her. As I said before, she could’ve described any number of situations or people in her life.

What bothered me is she likely referred to me. I gave her everything and was ready to go the distance. How is that beneath her? She might find a more fit man or someone with more wealth, but I guarantee she won’t find a better man. Obviously, she’s too immature to know it. How could she? It’ll take her another 4-5 years of failed dating to get it. A woman like her, who walks away from a man like me, doesn’t get it. She thinks she’s going to find Mr. Perfect- the one to answer all her fears with a magical flourish. Her life will be both adventurous and safe, fun and easy, midwestern sensible. (Did I say she was immature?)

It would take her one conversation with any married woman to know otherwise, which is what she didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want to grow up and do the work required to be in a healthy relationship. It was heartbreaking to walk away from her, despite all that. She was a wonderful walking irony. Unfortunately, the ex seemed to take most of her advice from terrible sources- other scared single ladies with little to no dating experience. I’m glad I watched her go through the moment because it taught me a lot about what to look for in a woman ready to go the distance. Does she talk to her friends? Or people who crossed over from single to married? Is she trying to make it? Or avoid pain?

I’m not as mad as I might sound in this post. Immaturity is infuriating but understandable. No one is magically born with the ability to make all the best choices, and the only way to learn is to try and to try means failing. I was a maturity failure for my ex-girlfriend. She didn’t intend to run away from something good, but she wasn’t prepared to go the distance either. One day, down the road, she will learn valuable truth all married people must accept: I am imperfect, and so is my spouse. The sooner that day comes, the better.

As for me, my ex-lady did all the things I fear most. She rejected me and then acted like I was the problem- not her crippling anxiety or desire to remain hidden in the shadows of life. The words “I don’t have to settle” are the worst for someone like me. What I love about it is how I responded. Ultimately, I didn’t let her judgemental approach determine my actions. Years ago, a comment like that would’ve sent me down a depressing porn hole. I would’ve cut people out of my life as I ate myself into a new pant size. But that’s not what happened. I fought for myself and continue to fight for myself.

Strength and grace are what happens when we let the Lord build us. What caused us pain in the past becomes a mere annoyance. I’m always going to be the guy who loves people, which will cause me some heartache. I want the people I love to love me back. My goal is to let go of that expectation while staying true to myself. The truth is most people will not love me back.

Most people will take my best and carry on the way they were headed as the ex did. She wandered into my life, then kicked me out when it got hard. The joy set before me is the moments and people who love me back. And I have plenty of those. My tank is stocked with great friends and family- and soon a lady. I refuse to settle for depression, anxiety, or self-pity. I refuse to belittle myself or others. I want what’s best for my ex-lady friend, and I trust the Holy Spirit to lead her. One day I’ll be married and face deep in a family. So will she. Our relationship will just be part of the journey. (I just hope she laughs at herself when she realizes how ridiculous she was.)

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Abstract: Lot’s Wife

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There’s a lady and her name is Comfort.

She whispers in the early morning,

when my thoughts turn to my ambitions.

She reminds me of the sting related to previous efforts,

moments when I ignored her.

She pitches me her best lines,

pushing me to stay in my mental bed.

The covers are safe,

and there is no heartache in sleep.

She’s not wrong.

Little Ms. Comfy is a seductive beast,

for she uses no lies.

All my attempts to do something,

are inherently risky,

some of them the heart-destroying kind.

But this temptress has a hand up her ass,

because she is a puppet,

a brainchild of fear.

And I, will not be Lot’s wife.

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Vol II: #17 Too Tired :)

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I have a great blog for today, but it will wait until Friday. Today was a long- but ultimately successful- day. My brain is exhausted, and I’m ready to fall asleep. A comfy bed awaits me. Catch you tomorrow.

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Abstract: Be Anxious For Nothing

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Anxiety is an addiction,

an old pale friend,

so comfortable around me,

he comes uninvited to my soul.

We’ve been friends for so long,

I forget how much of a terrible bastard he really is.

Even when he’s not around, I look for him,

because I don’t know how to live without sorrow or strain.

But…

My King says “Be anxious for no thing.”

Be sad for nothing,

Be nervous for nothing,

Be worried, frightful, and scared of nothing.

Let no concern bother my heart or mind.

Feels like a trap.

How do I stop something that feels automatic,

built into the way I live life?

Answer:

Live life another Way.

Anxiety is a tar baby*,

no matter how hard I swing or kick,

I slide deeper into his bullshit.

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When I fight and scream,

I block the Way forward.

My friend, my addiction,

is not mine to battle or defeat,

He is the Lord’s to destroy.

My task is to ring the bell,

when Mr. Shitty comes calling.

In all things, I will let my voice rise to the Throne.

When the world feels dark,

and people are indifferent to human suffering.

When I feel fat and bloated,

when I compare myself to a more attractive man.

I will let my worry rise to the One who can do something about it,

And, I will find good things to consume my heart and mind,

like beautiful memories, strong trees, and delicious food,

for these are His goodness too.

*I use the term “tar baby” in the historical sense of the term, not as a racial slur. The story of Br-er Fox and Br-er Rabbit is one I remember from kindergarten. I didn’t have a clue nor was I taught the historical nature of the story. It’s old and found in various cultures as far back as ancient India and Iran.

This poem is an attempt to see anxiety as something we cannot engage in or fight on our own. The more we struggle as the tar baby meant for Br-er Rabbit, the more trouble we find. Our power comes when we confess our cares and allow the Holy Spirit to fight for us. Then, we get to engage in thankfulness and think happy thoughts- which is an active process. Jesus is our briar patch. He’s our safe place. As Christians, we must never forget it.

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Vol II: #16 Monday Musings

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I’m in a writing rut, and I don’t know what to do next. As of now, my posts are little more than a public diary, and this blog needs to evolve beyond being a place for my thoughts and emotions. Does anyone outside of my family or close friends need to or care to know about my day-to-day well-being? Probably not.

I have plenty to explore and dissect about my life- on Wednesday, I will write about “settling” in my romantic relationships. I hate the word settle in regards to relationships. It implies one person is beneath another and a judgmental statement made by those trying to justify their fears. Again, I’ll dive into it Wednesday. And certainly, I have a plethora of material, so I’m not worried about content.

What bothers me is how I write and my style. I write like I talk, for the most part, which isn’t conducive to great writing. I want to tell engaging stories, the kind people share with their friends. And, I know I’ve got to write a load of bad stories first. Perhaps, that’s where I am today- a bad storyteller. At least, I’m writing stories.

I do love my new writing schedule. Alternating longer posts with poems lightened the load from last year, as does a mandatory day off each week. My weekends are no longer stressful, which is nice.

See you Wednesday.

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Abstract: Talking To Myself

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I talk to myself.

It’s not a poetic or noble fact,

but a true fact nonetheless.

I talk to myself in stores- the only reason I loved wearing a mask.

I carry my conversations from the car into each store,

why wouldn’t I?

It can be problematic,

such as when I ask myself “ are the bell peppers ripe?”

I may receive a reply from a thoughtful shopper or store employee.

My favorite is when I’m in the woods, all alone.

I cuss, argue, and cry,

laugh, whisper, and explain,

with nary a care or consideration.

The reason I talk to myself is uncomplicated,

I’ve always talked to myself.

As a boy, I couldn’t help it.

As a man, it’s necessary.

Whenever I hear my thoughts loud and unhindered,

I understand them, and in turn, find ways through the murky parts of my soul.

This is the power of words, as Jesus said,

they will move mountains,

especially those lodged in my heart and mind.

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Vol II: #15 Success Is Not A Feeling

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Around 11 AM today, I got a text from my buddy Blake. He is in a bit of a work lull, which is normal in the video production industry. Projects pop up, and sometimes there are more projects than others. Newly married, my friend feels the very real weight men often experience when we don’t “pull our weight” financially. I rattled off a few encouraging words and went back to work. Moments later, Blake called me because what I said, “meant a lot to him.”

As soon as I set my phone down from my conversation with Blake, Hudson asked via text to meet up for an afternoon coffee. I told him I could meet around 2 PM, which is what we did. Again, I talked him through a tough work scenario. We’ll talk again tomorrow.

Wednesday afternoon, I chatted with Jonathon. (Yes, with an -on instead of an -an.) He talked about his frustration with his job too. Again, I walked him through why he hates it. Johnathon is a people person- like me. He lives his best life whenever he meets new people. He’s everyone’s friend and has the innate ability to put anyone at ease. The problem is, he hates sales regardless of how well he does. It’s a real shame. He’s so good at it. If I was building a sales team he would be the second call I make.

On a personal level, today feels like a slog, as though I’ve lost both shoes in a swamp and I’m miles from dry land. What I love about my state, despite the lack of positive emotions or thoughts, is I still have wisdom for others (and myself.) I feel like a failure because of all the things I didn’t get done this week. And yet, I had three friends seek me out for advice. Isn’t that success? Yes. It is.

I don’t feel successful, but I am.

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