Abstract: School Days

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I sat at my desk and picked at a flap of dead skin still connected to my thumb,

the boy beside me thumbed through a skater magazine,

and the girl beside him twirled gum on her finger while she stared at the ceiling.

All of the other students carried on small conversations except the front row.

They sat upright with clean notebooks, and uncapped pens at the ready.

Another first day of school.

Years later, I asked myself “why did you hate school?”

Yes, by the third grade, I had enough bad experiences to justify the stance.

But ,why did I hate it from the beginning?

Day One, August 1985, Ms. Dawkins’ morning kindergarten class at North Springs Elementary school: hated it.

All I can remember are the words of a few older kids in my young orbit: school sucks.

And so, before I ever set foot in a school, I thought it was suppose to suck.

The teachers were suppose to be angry and rude- some were and some were not.

The subjects were to be boring and difficult to master- some are and some ain’t.

And the other kids are suppose to want to fight and cuss and steal- some did, most did not.

Poor little Nik.

He was so pushed around by strong opinions and harsh words.

To him, what carried weight and thusly importance,

were words of bitterness or anger.

Oh, what I regret the most- and only the Lord can heal- is what I let into my soul as a child.

Fortunately, the beat goes on. And, school is never closed.

Everyday is a day to grow and learn and find wonder,

for we were born in a place we will never fully understand.

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Vol II: #79 Some Thoughts on Reading

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Reading is a good practice and I highly recommend reading a variety of books. To read only a certain style, author, or genre of writing becomes dull and laborious. For years, I read only biographies of people like St Francis or Martin Luther King and self-help books. Only recently did I discover how enjoyable fiction can be and so I began to read what interests me.

What I love about fiction is how forgettable it is. My mind doesn’t obsess over what Jess B. Semple says or does as it does when I read Gifts of Imperfection. The added bonus of reading fiction is that it is, on par, better writing. Brene Brown wants as many people as possible to read Gifts of Imperfection, while Langston Hughes (the creator of Semple) knew his stories had to have style and substance. The adventures and observations of Mr. Semple are not for everyone and thus our friend Langston can ignore the masses to focus on his audience. Dr. Brown must simultaneously dumb down and punch up her academic findings for her audience. She wants to make her findings on shame and how to overcome it as plain and easy to understand as possible. And, thankfully so.

I find a great bonus in reading fiction as it affects my writing. Where as academic and historical writing can be dry and mundane, fiction challenges me to add color and movement to my writing, to give personality to people and places, and dare to leave some subjects and situations unanswered. As I see it, this is the great strength of fiction authors- to leave things unsaid or open to interpretation. Great books ought to leave us asking for more and debating the fate of its heroes or villains.

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Abstract: Lizards On The Trail

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Two alligator lizards darted through the dried grass beside the trail today,

one after the other.

One in pursuit,

and the other unconvinced.

The larger, more colorful male, his choice made,

followed his desire where ever she turned-

from the rock under the brush,

back over the trail to the yellowing fescue.

Finally, she paused atop a downed oak branch,

and the boy decided this is where he would dance and strut,

like we all do,

to impress his lady.

From my view on the trail,

the poor bastard had done everything a man could to win a champions reward,

but today was not his day.

His love wondered off into the woods,

and he stood on the trail,

exposed and alone, as a constant reminder: it is the pursued who decide the fate of any couple, not the pursuer.

The pursuer has already decided,

took his leap and brought his heart to bear,

hoping she will match his yes.

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Vol II: #78 A Saturday Prayer Request

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Pray for me folks because I want a new place to live. The apartment I inhibit is small and dull and not designed by a human with any sense of how environment affects a person. There’s no outdoor space or distance when both of us (my roommate and I) are home and want to do separate things. Currently, he’s watching TV and I’m writing on my laptop. I can hear the TV even though it’s at a low volume. I can sit and type or leave or join him. Regardless, a different more peaceful atmosphere is desired.

I don’t mind the roommate and his love affair with TV, but I just want a separate space to relax. So, please join me in prayer for a new living arrangement. I prefer something clean, peaceful, and with a view of any of the surrounding landscapes.

Thanks.

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Abstract: The Great Truth

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On this Rock, this hard and unmovable fact, I will build My people. 

For this truth is the greatest of all truths,

More real than gravity or the sun or sin. 

When they believe in Me, the Holy anointed One, they will be be unstoppable. 

Even if all of evil and its forces march against my people, they will win the day. 

For I am the Christ, the Real One.

And I cannot be defeated and My people cannot be defeated. 

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Vol II: #77 So, What?

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I paid $6.09 per gallon for gas yesterday. Twenty years ago, I’d fill my tank for $12. Today, that number is over $90. And no, this isn’t normal inflation. Using an online inflation calculator, if gasoline followed normal inflation patterns, I should pay something closer to $20 per tank. Even accounting for California’s ridiculous gas taxes, the price would be $25. What a time to be alive.

If I’m honest though, the state of the world doesn’t bother me. Maybe it should. Perhaps I should worry about Ukraine and the high cost of everything, but I don’t. And, I won’t. What’s happening in the world is well beyond my control or influence.

Yeah. That’s the post for today. I’m just not going to worry about things I can’t control. There’s no profit in it.

Also, should anyone wish to blame one particular political party or the other, remember this: Our government passed the Cares Act (to send everyone a check) by near unanimous voted in the House and Senate. And the President signed it (and put his flipping name on the checks like a weirdo.) To recap, the situation we are in is in part what our government did and part things beyond their control. We are here now and the best way to get through it is get creative and get through it.

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Abstract: Hope All Things

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I’m a better man when I want to impress a girl.

I dress as well as my wardrobe will allow,

my workouts are easy and quick,

and I walk a little taller than I would.

The difference isn’t in the behavior,

but in the belief.

Oh sure, I act different,

but it all starts with what I think is possible.

I feel like I’m a bit worse of a man when the threat of romance is off the map,

my diet fails, plans go un-lived,

and I dress like a hobo.

I don’t like my dichotomy.

I prefer to be hopeful in all things and at all times,

and this conflict of desire versus reality exposes a truth:

I lack hope, real hope, the kind of hope only Heaven produces and can never be stolen,

not by heart break or rejection, or failure.

The hope of Heaven is without end,

and no amount of pain can defeat it.

That’s what I want for me,

for my life and for those around me.

Lord, teach me to hope all things.

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Vol II: #76 Vaccines and the Will of God

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In a hyper prophetic ecosystem like Bethel’s, it’s common to hear someone say I feel the Lord calling me to X. Usually, this means “called” to a specific ministry like working with the homeless or some kind of inner healing. A “calling” can also apply to countries or a ‘season of rest.’ (Funny how few people feel called to a ‘busy as shit season.’) Pertinent to my post today is the idea of the Holy Spirit ‘calling’ people to travel over the summer. And, I am among them.

One statement you will not hear uttered from my lips, though I’ve heard it repeatedly since March, is they want me to get vaccinated. You won’t hear it from me because I do not understand that mentality. I believe vaccines are safe and affective. As evidenced by the fact we do not suffer from measles, mumps, small pox, or polio. And, despite the facts, I know that no matter how much data I have, the prevailing sentiment among conservatives is that the COVID-19 is potentially dangerous. So be it.

Here’s the rub for many of my brothers and sisters: The Lord isn’t scared of the COVID-19 vaccine. If they have the faith to travel, to battle malaria, to eat spicy diarrhea-inducing food, to sleep in flea infested beds, then I believe they can be vaccinated. Yes, it’s up to each person to decide what they must do. Preserving free choice is important, and each person must live with the results of their choices. But, don’t deny the Lord. If He called us to something, He’ll empower us to get it done.

Personally, I don’t know what the COVID-19 protects us from. I admit it isn’t the best vaccine. Supposedly, it protects us from the severe symptoms related to the virus, though I question that claim. My point is a vaccine shouldn’t keep us from walking out our callings. If an anti-vaccine person can legally avoid the vaccine, go for it; however, you best not sit on your ass because of fear.

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Abstract: The Future is Better

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He’s winning.

Oh, sure. I wouldn’t expect the newsman to say so.

Why would they?

“Life is Getting Better” doesn’t sell,

not in the age of magnified blemishes and flaws.

Oh, sure. There’s plenty to cry on.

I read the headlines last week,

damn shame what happened down in Uvalde.

But, murder rates and crime ain’t what it was when I was a kid,

though the newsman won’t ever let you know.

Africa was not better, and neither was Europe, or Asia.

Does anyone really want to travel back to 1925 Belgium or Nigeria or Plano, Texas.

Do you want to give up a flushing toilets, two-day delivery, and video chats?

Oh, sure. We’ve got some big mountains to climb,

but I know we will see the top long before the doomsday prophecies come true.

Oh, sure. That too. ( To whatever ‘but what about this’ you got in mind. That too.)

Lemme finish with this: Anyone who says they’d rather live in a different era is daft.

The past wasn’t better than today, but it is a safe place, forever frozen in our minds.

It’s predictable and constant.

I choose to believe the best lay ahead of us, in that foggy future,

uncertain and to be determined.

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Vol II: #75 Past and Future

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O.J. Simpson has a twitter account. All of his tweets are selfie-style videos and he begins each one with “Hey Twitter world, it’s me, yours truly!” like he’s a gameshow host from the ‘70s. After his enthusiastic introduction, Mr. Simpson will ramble on about the NFL or politics or whatever fancies him. His words are not insightful or interesting yet each tweet is a mini spectacle of its own. Because Twitter is the place where people get to respond to each other, and respond to Mr. Simpson they do. The replies to O.J.’s tweets usually fall into opposing camps. First we have the “I know you did it/why did you murder those two people?” camp. And the second is the opposite “Ur innocent dawg/I got your back Juice!” supporters. Debate and insults follow. Regardless of subject, this predictable yet hilarious cycle renews itself with each new tweet.

The fact O.J. Simpson has a social media account and uses it on regular basis is hilarious and kinda sad. The man is either a NFL Hall-of-Fame murderer, or he’s an NFL Hall-of-Famer, wrongly accused of double murder. And the man is 74 years-old. (Why is he tweeting? Who said “you know what Juice, I think you should tweet.” That’s a question I wanted answered.)

I was born at the start of 80’s and I remember corded telephones, clear Diet Pepsi, and Rocky IV. No one at Pontiac Elementary or Spring Valley High School ever imagined a day where OJ Simpson would mass communicate his thoughts to the world only to be heckled by the same insults every time he decided to publish his opinions. When I step back from the moment, it’s all very bizarre. We thought the future would be flying cars and self-drying clothes, space credits and food replication. Star Trek predicted warp speed space travel but not social media, 24-hour news, or viral dance crazes.

What A Time to be Alive

The future is better than I thought it would be. I mean that. Taken as a whole, I really believe it’s a wonderful time to be alive. Remember the 80’s? The Cold War was real and we honestly believed the world could end at any moment. No one had friends much beyond where they lived, but now we can stay in constant communication with anyone via messaging apps and video chat. And my dad was treated for early stage prostate cancer and the treatment did not involve months of nasty chemo or invasive surgeries. It’s not flying cars but I’ll take a more peaceful, slightly smaller, and more advanced world.

Yes, It’s Getting Better

Yesterday, I read through some parts of the New Testament I rarely bother to read. In 1 Peter, the author (who we assume was Peter) exhorted the listener to love their spouse. How odd I thought. The Old Testament is full of laws and war and famine but the New Testament is full of grace and instructions on what love looks like. It’s a thrilling evolution.

I can make the case that the Lord has continued to reveal who He is and what’s His nature. Abraham certainly knew the voice of God but I don’t think He knew the Father we know. Moses saw miracles, but He didn’t have the Holy Spirit or heal the sick. David worshipped the Lord while having multiple wives and concubines. And Jesus never condemned slavery. My point is we are on continuum and what we know of the Lord is greater than what they knew. I believe that too.

Our number one task of the Kingdom is to preserve the Kingdom in our hearts. Then, we add to it. It’s work that ebbs and flows but is always in motion, throughout time. From ancient stories to cold wars to social media, the wheel turns, and the Lord marches us one day closer to the fullness of who He is. What a blessing to be alive and experience more than those who came before us.

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Abstract: Imagination and Love

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I feel terrible for people without empathy or compassion,

and I blame their state on a lack of imagination.

For who, having spent a few moments considering the plight of another-

the trek of the immigrant,

fear of the abused,

or hunger of the homeless,

can turn their eyes or remain hard-hearted?

And no. We are not to serve their fears and failures,

but we can empathize with those controlled by them.

For each of us was or is manipulated by some horror or regret.

I imagine we are all facing one hurdle or another.

Fortunately, imagination is not required to love.

In fact, proper perfect love is not about what is deserved or needed.

Perfect love exists because the person exists.

And nothing else matters.

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Vol II: #74 My Inner World

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Yesterday afternoon I watched the United States men’s soccer team beat Morocco 3-0 in a friendly exhibition. The US dominated from start to finish and it was a thrilling victory. Soccer is more enjoyable when the United States wins. After the game, I went for a walk and soon found myself caught up in an imaginary post-game press conference as I imagined being the head coach and how I would respond to questions from the media.

“Overall, I’m pleased with our performance today. I thought we made a lot of progress with how our forwards played and along the back line defenders. Morocco had their opportunities but we closed the gaps and limited the damage all night long.”

“What’s that? What did I see from Matt Turner in goal? Yes. I thought he played well given the circumstances. I’d like to see him clean up the loose balls, but he’s never out of position and communicates well with his defenders. That’s what we want from our keepers.”

“Well, it’s a good win, but we have a long way to go for the World Cup in November. Some guys are getting a look here in June, and some guys who aren’t here will likely make the roster in the fall. So we need to see who ready and who needs more time.”

I can picture the lights- blinding me from seeing the facial features of the reporters- and the feel of the plastic water bottle in my hands. My demeanor toward the media is stern but fair. After all, they are there to sell ad space and the truth is rarely a concern.

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I’m nearly 42 years-old and I still have imaginary moments with imaginary actors like I’m a kid. It’s probably why I like the movie Walter Mitty. And, being honest, I feel ashamed about it. Men are suppose to be a certain way. We are meant to be strong and grounded and logical. So, what grown man lives in his head as I do? What adult men are as emotional as they are logical? But, this is who I am. I see myself as strong and logical, and all the other bits too. And even though I’m certain my imaginary world can be a place to escape, it is something to be treasured and protected.

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