Restroom signs

I thought you guys might enjoy these. Creativity at it's finest... right here
http://www.nuacco.com/2007/08/13/which-door-should-i-choose/

q

ok, i'll just come out and say it, "YOU GO!" you went to atlanta a couple of years ago because you were passionate about impacting the lives of students. you went up this past weekend because you're passionate about impacting the lives of students.

yeah, things are crappy right now. but there will always be something not going right. you can't let that stop you from doing the work God has put before you. paul was flogged, beaten, shipwrecked, stoned, imprisoned numerous times, and even had a 'thorn in his flesh' that God wouldn't remove. but he knew that nothing other than forwarding the kingdom of God mattered.

where is that boat going???

so im sitting here in my coffee shop working on saturday at the lofts, which basically means that over the course of my 7.5 hour shift, i will probably have somewhere between 15-20 customers. this of course is great for blogging, not so great for the shop though.

i got back from atlanta wednesday afternoon and immediately started doing a bunch of just stuff. i have a pretty large life decision that needs to be made by jan 1, and im totally avoiding making it or even really thinking about it. i guess i kinda dont know what to do, or how to decide, but i have come to this conclusion, if i wanna do youth ministry then im gonna move to atlanta, and if i dont wanna do youth ministry, then im gonna stay in ft lauderdale and try and go to EMT and firefighting school, all the while mastering the fine art of being a barista...

i kinda feel like whichever one i choose i will wonder about the other one, i want to be confident, i remember that i used to be confident, i dont know what happened. well maybe i know what happened, but i dont know how to undo what has been done to my confidence. im pretty terrified to move to atlanta, i dont know if i can really hack it as a youth pastor, but at the same time im kinda afraid to stay here bc i dont know what the future holds. i dont wanna just sit, im so sick of just sitting and waiting, and all that nonsense, now is a time for action. i just dont know what action...

Slicker than a penny in the rain

I pretty much feel the way Josh does. I've been to Hell and back in the past, but things right now couldn't be any better--well, actually, a million dollars would be nice. And so I avoid posting, because I don't want to simply say, "I understand. Jesus loves you. God is in control." And like Tim said, I don't know exactly what ya'll are going through, but I can empathize with the pain.

I've been trying to read straight through the Bible for like the past 2 years and I'm finally in the minor prophets. Man, I love the minor prophets! I just read Habakkuk the other day and two things stuck out to me. 2:1, "I will stand at my watch and station myself on the ramparts; I will look to see what he will say to me and what answer I am to give to this complaint." Habakkuk has just laid out his questions and complaints before God and is like, "what the deuce?" But God's answer here--just like his answer in Job--does not try to explain his reasoning. He simply tells him who he is and why he's the one in charge. God is God. And we can question him all we want, but be prepared to receive an answer. And most likely be prepared to receive and answer you didn't want to hear and doesn't necessarily fix your problem.

The second thing is in 3:17-18, "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior." He's not saying that he will necessarily be happy with where he is in life. He's simply saying that he will rejoice and be happy in God. My life might suck right now, but praise God for filling my lungs with air and my body with the energy to wake up this morning. I may not have wanted to get up, but God wanted me to--praise God for wanting me to live today!

I leave you now with two of my favorite recent quotes to ponder over. The first is by musician Eric Peters. The second is from the movie The Darjeeling Limited:

"It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt."

"We haven't located where we are yet."

my Father's Eyes

I bought TWO Amy Grant albums today!

love

i just wanna say thats its really good for my heart to read what you guys write. i dont know why, but it just is...i love you guys

I am Happy- a confession

I don't really know what I'm about to write about, but I haven't written about anything in a while, so I'll write about that- about nothing maybe (how is that for the {over}use of about).
I was reading your blogs and I began to feel sad in a way- well helpless is more like it. You guys are GREAT friends. I know this time is hard for you, and there is nothing much I can do. But know I pray for you.
(I almost stopped there. Something about "misery loves company" is true. I didn't want to post because I felt kinda of guilty for not being miserable)
But you know what. I am not going to be miserable. Lord knows I have been miserable before (Dan, I'm pretty sure nobody has ever seen me cry [cry might be somewhat of an understatement] like you have), but now is not my time. I'm sorry. I can try if you want to, but it's not where I am right now. Life has seasons. I am in one, and so are you. You KNOW this. It is in your core. When you start your stream of consciousness it always comes out. After you have laid your guts out on the table of frustration, you always come back to some sort of "God is good". And I LOVE that. That is what David did. He threw it out there and said "God this F'n sucks" (pardon my Hebrew), but when he was done, as hard as it might have been, God was still God.
So I am happy. Life is freaking good. Granted, I sit in front of a small computer screen all day long, and by the time my wife gets home it is dark- but really every second of my day is awesome. There are no great moments. There is nothing I can tell you that made me feel this way. It just is. I just am- happy.
Utah is amazing. I really love the whole adventure and feel of it all. There is still a ton unknown, but I really have nothing to complain about ( I could try, but it would be futile).
An FCA speaker (in the new Densch) said something about how when you are up, prepare, because there is NO DOUBT that you will be going down soon, but if you are down, just hold on, because you won't be there long- I promise.
So I will prepare. You hold on. We'll do this life thing together. And when I am down, maybe you will know a better way to bring me up to join you.

I want you to know. I just can't tell you.

((from a journal entry 11-04-07))

Today I found my favorite spot in Orlando. It is intrinsically wonderful, filled with all the good things a one could want in a thing that is wonderful and good. Diverse plant life, various animals, the sounds of running water, bridges, hide-a-way spots, trails, park benches, wide-open-spaces, a small amphitheater for a midday tableau, etc. The type of place I want to be at every day.

What struck me the most is how largely unknown this personal paradise is. Despite being several blocks from major thoroughfares, there were surprisingly few people there. It is a secret. An anomaly. How is this delicate place of beauty so untraversed? I stumbled across an older couple on a trail that I was obviously making too much noise on. They quieted me quickly and motioned that I join them in looking at something. They pointed to an otter frolicking in the stream. I had startled him to motion and we watched as he swam up into a small pipe most likely serving as his front door. "Honey, I told you I should have brought the camera. The first time I leave the camera in the car is the first time we see an otter..." the lady went on. "Do you come here often?" I asked. The man jumped in, "Ever since I was about five."

I slowly began to collect that this was the type of spot only for locals, where outsiders were welcome, but by invitation only. This was no Cypress Gardens or Weeki Wachee--there are no advertisements touting "Orlando's greatest park" or "Florida's best wildlife". In fact I went home and tried to find it on Google Maps. As I suspected, it wasn't there. You can see it from the satellite view if you know what you're looking for, but there are no labels.

As I left, I was saddened by the fact that I did not have anyone beyond William Sydney Porter (O. Henry) and his "Magi" Jim and Della to share the experience with, but joyful with this new knowledge to share with everyone I knew. As I tried to think about telling someone about my discovery, I realized that there was no way I could do justice to what I had just witnessed. There was no way to communicate my experience. I could not simply tell someone about the spot that immediately became my favorite. I had to show them. I couldn't wait for the opportunity to bring someone with me to experience for themselves the joy of this place.

In a certain sense, my faith is similar to that day. I can try to articulate the reasons why I believe. I can try to tell you of it's grandeur or expound upon the subtle nuances that form the tipping point for utmost trust in a Man, yet So Much More Than A Man. There is no way that could be enough, though. I want you to experience this for yourself. I want to experience this with you. I want to live this out intimately with someone. I can point out the way, but something gets lost if that's all that is accomplished. There is ownership in discovery. There is joy in community.

return from a brief unintentional hiatus...

My apologies for the extended absence. It's not that I haven't had anything to write or that I haven't desired to read.

I think I'm afraid. I'm afraid of life. Afraid of asking questions. Afraid of the answers to those questions. The poet David Whyte states: "The price of our vitality is the sum of all our fears." I can't seem to rise above my fears yet to engage life. The cost just seems too high.

In the meanwhile the Enemy says ...be lazy...sit...rest...don't pursue...relax...go back to bed...don't ask...don't call... For some reason he wants me dormant. He wants me out of the battle. Disengaged. He's working hard to convince me that my fears and uncertainties and insecurities are more real and more correct than what Jesus says about me. "Be strong and courageous." "Do not be afraid." "I am with you."

But it's still easier to not move. After all...nothing will ever change if you don't change it. It's like in Jenga...as long as you don't pull the blocks out, you'll never win, but you'll also never lose. The wood pile will never fall that way. And so I sit. I don't call. I don't ask. And I wonder why God doesn't do anything. Why my support hasn't come in, even though I've got plenty of contacts and people who have said they're going to give, how come they haven't yet?! I could go to work if everyone who said they would write a check would just do so. I hate feeling like Dog the Bounty Hunter (with less racial slurs) when it comes to raising money. And why am I so unmotivated?

And for those of you who haven't heard, last week I started dating a really nice girl that kind of came up out of left field. I really totally wasn't looking for it at all, since I had my sights set somewhere else. While I feel like all of this could be a really good thing, I can't help but wonder, when do I step up and start taking charge of my life. Or as dan told me several years back to start living my life and stop letting life live me. It seems like every once in a while I can step up and make a decision and go for something, but as soon as I put myself out there it's only a matter of seconds before I'm back in the fetal position being blatantly bludgeoned again by the very vitality I was in pursuit of.

Its so tough to be so broken down so much of the time. "It was goin' pretty good when about halfway through the flap-coil valve burner started smokin, the hydro-pin spinner was burnin' off the manifold drive. I knew if I didn't over-flood the drive when I was gettin' some of that last pylon tryin' to underplate that hydro-coil, I knew if I couldn't do that, I was gonna have to shut her down..." And while Brian Regan still knows more about cars than I do, I continually find myself unable to start, rolling backwards down the very hill I'm trying to climb. How do I get back to the place in life where I feel as though I'm running on all cylinders again?

dan, I can't say that I understand, but I can say that I feel your pain. And you're more of a man than I, cause I'm generally more concerned about the shit that hits my fan than those closest to me.

And the only encouragement I can offer is "Press On." To what? I'm not really sure. Why? I'm not really sure. All I know (know is too strong--willfully want to believe is better) is that somehow, in someway, through all this God is supposedly faithful.

I need to believe that.

i loathe these titles

after just reading tian's post, i couldnt agree more that God is sneaky, and right now i'm in a place where i just am waiting for him to pop up and be like hey thats why all this stuff happened. im so unbelievably frustrated right now, im learning how little i truly trust in God and even in his sneaky-ness. i just found out shannon has a boyfriend now, and that just freaking rips my heart out, i dont understand so much about that. josh rosenthal wrote me a song titled "i dont wanna watch you love somebody else", and thats exactly how i feel. i dont understand how i can still love her, but she can be moved on so quickly. i wanna say so much more about that, but i dont think i will right now. but also today i found out that my dad, who has been jobless since june got turned down for another job that he thought he had, and 2 days ago i heard from my dad that my mom is going back on her depression medication because she is starting to slip back into depression. my mom was almost constantly depressed from about my 6th grade til i was finished with high school, and i know that a lot of it has to do with stress in her life, and part of her stress is my lack of direction, and my depression, and that kills me. and i know that it just kills my dad, and he feels guilty for it too. and its just really hard to see your family hurting a lot and then not be able to do anything about it yourself. i look at this situation and i know its a perfect sneaky God opportunity, but right now its just so hard to believe in that. i know my life isnt even close to as much in shambles as many many peoples lives, but i still feel like God, what the heck are you doing????? if i go through shit thats one thing, but i cant deal with it when other people i care about are and there is nothing i can do. and so right now i just feel freaking wounded, and worried, and i dont trust, i know that i dont trust God bc im constantly worried... im supposed to cast all my cares on God, but i dont even know what that means, and ive done that as much as i know how, and i just feel like God thats not working...where is the sneaky God? where? but even as i write this i think of pauls words, "who are you oh man to question the Almighty"...so i guess i just sit around and wait for God to be my hero? i guess thats all i can do...but even as i sit, im overwhelmed by how little i truly trust God... i dont truly trust him with my relationship, with my job, with where im gonna live, with my future, with my friendships, i dont trust that truth will be brought to the light, i have such unbelievable anxiety about all kinds of things, and i have no idea where this comes from bc im not an anxious person typically...i dont know...this is just a stream of consciousness, but im working at my coffee shop now and blogging seems appropiate, so here i am...

ugh i have no conclusion to this post, but im just freaking frustrated right now with life...and i feel like life is kicking my ass

Rain

The other night I was sitting on my front porch smoking my pipe and reading a book on hermeneutics. I didn't choose that book on my own. I have to read it for what's called a J-term class. Basically, you take a whole semester's worth of work and pack it into one week in January (hence J) of 5 ten hour days. It's a little something that I like to call 'hell on earth.'

Anyway, back to my front porch. So I'm out there taking advantage of the first night in a while where I can sit outside in a t-shirt, long sleeve shirt, and jacket, and not be freezing. As I'm out there reading it starts to rain lightly--or at least that's what it sounded like. Our street is pretty dark at night, and there weren't any puddles yet for me to watch for raindrop splashes. So I couldn't see anything that would indicate rain, but my ears were telling me the rain was there. I started thinking to myself, "man, rain can be sneaky sometimes." Sometimes you don't see it coming, other times you don't see it even when it does come.

I thought about God, and how he can be sneaky sometimes, too. Ever look back on the past 3 or 4 months and been like, 'man, I totally didn't see that at the time'? Or maybe you're stuck in a place and there seems like there's no way out, and you really can't see God in anything? He's there. You may not be able to see him, but if you listen closely you'll hear him. God's just sneaky like that.

location, location, location...

so today i dont have work...im super excited about that, particularly because im just so flipping confused in life about where to be. i talk to aj on the phone and hear about him and tim going and doing all this fun stuff and i think geez it sure would be nice to be in orlando. or i think about how much im struggling just to get by down here in south florida, and how much money its gonna cost me to move into my own place, and i think there has gotta be some place where its just a bit easier. or i even look at atlanta, and just think of all the things that i wouldnt have to worry about if i was up there, like money or health insurance, and i have friends up there, and it just seems easier to me. i was so excited to move down here, but i think a lot of that joy has been stolen by circumstances and struggles. im still planning on going and visiting the church in atlanta, hopefully next week if i can get 1 day off, but i wonder if that will do anything other than just add to my confusion. so today basically im gonna be praying about cities...im gonna be praying that God will guide me to one and give me the confidence that im supposed to be there. I made the move down here so quickly, im wondering if it was the right thing to do, but i suppose that only time will tell. if any of you read this today, if you wanna pray for me as i pray about this, i would appreciate it...thanks gents, much love

Checkems

I'm sure you've all heard the controversy over the movie The Golden Compass. There are even facebook groups protesting the movie. I've recently read two very good blogs that are not just about the movie and how the author wants to kill God, but also about the storyline of all three books. The second one reads more like a book review, but definitely from a Christian perspective:

http://www.almohler.com/blog.php

http://www.rabbitroom.com/?p=281#more-281

1 Samuel 18:27

Really the whole chapter is pretty odd, since it's Saul at his craziest. But this is kinda the pinnacle of all the weirdness.

"David and his men went out and killed two hundred Philistines. He brought their foreskins and presented the full number to the king so that he might become the king's son-in-law. Then Saul gave him his daughter Michal in marriage."

new ideas

Ok. I have an idea. We all know that the Bible has all kinds of verses that are just plain ridiculous... especially when out of context. I issue a challenge to all of you. Post your favorite ridiculous Bible verse. Maybe it is something gross, or maybe something you just wouldn't expect, or even just plain hard to digest. Whatever the case, it will probably make you say, "can the Bible really say that?"
The winner will get... to be the winner. yay
Ok. I'll get it started with the oh so obvious Ezekiel 23. That is perverted man!
whatcha got?

snow part two.

This is the day the Lord has made. It has to be. I mean geeps people. It is snowing once again today- we are in a bit of a hiatus right now, but earlier it was comin down. So I decided to take a walk. I bundles up and headed out into the blistery winter. (It's 30 right now)
It is like the movies out there. Seriously, it is so gorgeous. As I was walking, of course I was thinking. I was thinking about how happy the snow makes me. On a day like today, anything could happen, and I would still be happy, because it's so dang pretty. Actually, as I was walking, a small child called me a butt sucker- and it didn't even phase me (ok, that's totally unture, but I bet if it HAD happened, it wouldn't have phased me). On a day like today, I bet I could slip on the ice, break my femur, and I would be ok as long as the hospital had a window.
So here's where I'm going. What if we could see this much beauty in the world around us all the time. There's a LOT of beautiful things out there beside just snow. What if we could see them for how beautiful they are. I bet that would change out perspective on a lot of things. And I bet it would make us people that were just generally happier in the world.
mmmm snow

p.s. this snow does not help my ability to get work done. I am quite distrait

the first snow!

Today marks the first snow here in Salt Lake City! I saw on my iPhone that is was supposed to snow today, but the Apple gods have been wrong before. I kept peeking outside- lifting one of the 2" blinds to see if anything was white yet. It wasn't. Every time I would approach the window with hope... and leave with disappointment. Finally, I became engrossed in my work. Then Diana came home and said, "You aren't watching the snow?"
The world was white- a winter wonderland. I am always amazed at how God can change how EVERYTHING looks in the matter of a few hours. All of the colors of cars and buildings, the nicely manicured lawns, everything we have worked so hard to keep pristine, is almost instantly bleached- and it stretches for as far as the eye can see.
The thing about snow is that it makes me incredibly anxious. The snow itself I love. The thought of my car driving across it terrifies me. I have only driven in the snow about 10-15 times. One of those times I wrecked my mother-in-law's Land Cruiser. She knew I would. I'm from Florida after all.
That was probably the last time I drove in the snow... before tonight. That's one of the reasons I was excited about moving to Utah. You know, face your fears and all. After a full winter, surely I'll be ok- unless I kill someone first.
Oh, and about tonight. It was hardly driving in the snow. The roads were wet. It was 39 degrees. The only time I was actually ON snow was in my driveway for maybe 3 seconds. maybe... Still, I feel as though it was a good first step

titleless

so im sitting down in south florida, i think all of you know i moved down here except maybe chin. so yeah im sitting down here in the coffee shop that i work in, and i will be coaching my first soccer game later today. i dont know if we will have enough players or not, but i am at least hopeful that we will. the reason im writing in here today is two fold, primarily i think that a college reading level is far to high for any blog i am a contributor to, and secondarily i am on the verge of making a big decision. tertiarily (i dont know if that is a word) i havent written in awhile so i feel a little guilty about that. so the big decision...well as i was moving down to so fla, i get this phone call from a church up in atlanta and they want me to come and be their high school youth pastor. the church is a really cool, and i think that id be into the ministry there, and just the vision of the church as a whole, but the timing is just so weird. i really dont know what to make of it, i dont know whether to think of course i wont do it, i just made a decision, or to think wow God you are moving in at the last minute to take me to what you want me to do. part of me also wonders if im just hiding down here in south florida, if im just doing things that wont challenge me, just because i dont want to have to engage in life in general...

so i think i need to tell this church today if i want them to fly me up there to check it out, and the salary at this church is rather robust, and thats fairly appealing to me, because as it stands down here, im not sure im gonna make it financially... i guess ultimately im writing this in hopes that doing so will help me make a decision about exploring this opportunity or not, ive gotten so much mixed advice that its really too much to even write about, but it is kinda driving me crazy...as soon as i find some place that i think i can engage in, and a city that i can love, and watch God heal with the gospel, as soon as i get there something comes up that makes me question it...

i dont love this decisionmaking phase of life... but i do have a sneaking feeling that peace is just around the bend...

piece

p.s. IT WORKED!!!

Get a Cash Advance

levantelo!

It is my preponderance that if we, being intelligent young lads, were to write with a greater sense of eloquence, a more profound diction, and a more deeply soulful rendition of our inmost being onto these pages, which are, as of now, reduced to a mere smattering of letters formed into seemingly adventitious words strewn about an HTML document, cascading toward the loonshit as we, the contributing scribes watch the eminent downfall of what could have been rendered as an unstinting gift to the reading population of this said blog.
Also, I propose this following suggestion for your consideration- if we, as a united whole, were to collectively oust our dear chap, Mr. Daniel Franklin from the realm of contribution, that our aggregate "blog reading level" not would undergo an abundant amplification as a consequence.

If, in your wildest contrivances, you have reasoned that my insanely abundant use of words that are inappropriately advanced and preference for sentences that are seemingly endless was a preposterous attempt to improve the reading level of the aforementioned blog, and that I may have referred to thesaurus.com on various and sundry occasions, and on at least two occurences found it necessary to research the veritable meaning of those words on dictionary.com, then you, my dearest companion, would be very undistorted in assuming such an assumption.

Shivery Discourse

As I sit on my front porch,
Hoping to be struck by inspiration
From the heavens above perhaps,
All I can think of is my new jacket
With seater underneath
That are keeping me oh, so warm.

It's not even winter yet
And the mercury will drop below 30 tonight.
The trees that were so delightful a week ago,
Clothed in their red, yellow, and orange garments
Are now a sign of the darkness and gloom
That we must endure for the next 3 months.

With their bare, gangly limbs,
Sagging in their naked shame and despair.
Their leaves are now withering brown
On my lawn that I just raked yesterday.
I miss the sounds of the birds and cicadas
That once filled the summer air.

A dog barking in the distance--
Probably aching from the cold
With frozen snot hanging from his nose--
Is the only sign of life in this God-forsaken place.
Now I know why the settlers of this land
Look so grim in portraits.

God, I miss Florida.

act your age, not your intelligence level?

good job guys! not half bad!

blue- If i were green i would die

Feeling left out of the melancholy, so here's my shot at it.

His cell was black. All black. The walls were covered in a texture that he had never experienced before, and that he could never describe afterward. The ceiling was low- too low. It forced him to hunch over as he paced back and forth. Three steps each way. Small steps. The coldness of the air made him shiver to keep warm, and I wish I could tell you that it worked.
The floor was covered in an inch of water form wall to wall, and the air was filled with the resulting dingy dampness and a stench that made him pray to lose his senses.
Month after month he allowed his fingernails to grow out, and the grime to collect beneath them. Finally they were long enough and he dug them into his chest. He jabbed them in, further and further, forcing them through his bones, each one cracking under the pressure. And then he pulled, as hard as he possibly could, wrenching his chest open. He knew that inside, there was something alive, something that was not so… black. He thrust his hand around his heart and pulled it out, covered in blood. As he wiped it on the wall, he realized that it disappeared. It was enveloped by the black. It faded into every other color that had been wiped on those walls by those who had suffered in his cell before him. The texture of the walls was the attempt of he predecessors to do the same thing he had wanted to do- see life. See hope. They all failed.
His cell door is open, but he will not walk out. He knows this hell can end whenever he wants, but he would have to let someone else help. So he stays. He tries to find life on his own. He tries to bring life to his cell, but he fails. Over and over he fails.

hey, so do i!

the church that gentry and i go to is very mission oriented. and i don't mean they send people on 20 different mission trips each year (3 of those to the carribean for the youth) or watch slideshows from missionaries. no, everything they do is mission-focused. this is even the main idea of the vision statement: Uplift, Prepare, Send. a couple sundays a month there is a 'ministry spotlight' during the service, where a video is shown or someone from a ministry gets up to share what they're doing and how it is used to reach the community or the world. heck, the youth pastor was even a missionary in kenya for 3 years. yes, they do a whole bunch of mission trips every year, but only to specific places where they have built relationships (no, none in the carribean).

i say all this, not to brag on my church, but because i'm going somewhere with this and the weekly focus on missions (near and far) has a part to play. when you hear someone talk about missions every week, it makes you start to think about where God might take you. and since my ministry will most likely be within the local church, i have to be willing to go to any church God might send me. but am i? i can say that i would go live in kenya if God wanted me too, but it's another thing to actually do it. heck, going to california is too far for me. i want to be close to my friends and family. east of the mississippi and south of the mason-dixon.

so what does this mean? does it mean that i'm not ready to go into the ministry? maybe. but i'm in seminary for a reason. so i have the next 3 years to prepare my heart. but what if God tells me tomorrow to move to ukraine? well, if God literally tells me, i think that'll be life-changing enough to make me go. but i know that i have prayer, the word of God, and wiser, older, Godly people who can help me. i also have a wife who has better discernment than i do, and will help me in knowing my call. i'm pretty sure, though, that i'm supposed to graduate from seminary.

i don't know where i'll be in (roughly) 3 years, and that's scary and exciting at the same time. but i know i must hold on loosely to everything i have and know. i must be ready at all times to abandon my life here for God's glory somewhere else. suitcase packed, passport in hand....

I go to church too

Sometimes I'm not sure why. But I go to church every Sunday. Well I used to. It all seems a bit monotonous sometimes. That's probably my bad.

Any-who. We're in Salt Lake City now. AHHH. Who does that? Who moves to Mormonville on their own volition? (where does volition come from. from the word volatile?) There is aparently virtually NO Christian church up here. It's strange to people watch and think that those people potentially believe some of the weirdest crap imaginable (more on that later). Needles to say, I am in the minority here. 

The Christian church is very small and apparently very shallow. I think I might be ok with the shallow thing though. We went to a new church (one of the biggest around- about 400 peeps) on Sunday and it was raw. It surprised me. We walked into the "lobby" and the first words I heard were "I'm so f*$&ing tired" from a twenty-something sipping her pre-service coffee. We walked into a warehouse type building and I was quickly realizing that this was a bit more rough that just "rough around the edges".  These people looked more like they belonged in a bar. The church building was run down- it was a concrete floor, painted, with chips all over. 

I was shocked until I realized that this is what I have been looking for. I have wanted an escape from a world where, on Sunday mornings at least, everything is perfect. I don't really want to be around people right now that are telling me that they are ok when they are really dying. And I think I was most happy to be in a church that hadn't put more money into their building than they had into the rest of what a church is supposed to be here for. I'm looking for a church that is not about seeming to be someone beside who they are. 

I'm excited to find that church. This could be the place. A place where people haven't been told their whole life that a Christian looks like ( ) this. 

lee greenwood would be proud (to be an american)

i feel gay for referencing 'friends,' but it's kinda like that episode where joey (or maybe phoebe) says that there is no such thing as a selfless act. the argument is that so called 'selfless acts' still make the doer feel good, and therefore have a selfish motive involved--would you do a selfless act if it hurt you? but with God there is such thing as a selfless act. obviously Jesus made the ultimate selfless act, but doing something simply because we are called to do it as a christian makes for a selfless act.

you see what just happened? the introduction of God/Christ makes a simple 'good deed' worthwhile because it is being done for the sake of Heaven and not for the sake of happy feelings. i've noticed this frequently in our world since being here in the lou. one big way this comes to mind was mentioned in my biblical counseling class. there is a guy who made revolutionary changes to the area of counseling by making people responsible for their problems, admitting it, and asking for forgiveness from anyone they hurt because of it. but what's missing from this? God (or more specifically, sanctification). confession of sins to ourselves and others is good, but comes up short without sanctification through the Holy Spirit which brings renewal.

just like tim kind of alluded to, we must be careful when it comes to things the world deems as good. usually the problem/difference is found and made clear by looking for slight tweakings (spellcheck says that's not a word, but i beg to differ) in the language used. for instance, notice above how i said 'problems' originally instead of 'sins'. also, tim heard 'good quips' and was encouraged to do 'good things'.

on a completely different note, go to maps.google.com and past the coordinates below into the search bar. don't ask how i came upon. i don't know. but it makes me proud.....

2.779212, 32.364564

Adventures in not playing guitar

Today was the one Sunday I had off from playing guitar at Summit for November. Multiple thoughts ran through my head about how I should spend my weekend. Get away, go camping, canoeing, take the bike out for a spin, but at least do something. What can I say, I'm lazy and just hung around town. (Although yesterday was terrible...my irrigation exploded and I was covered in mud and water fixing a problem that I didn't expect to exist...and in the meantime left the bike on and killed the battery, rendering it useless for the day...ruining my chances at a day of productivity...but that's all side bar information.)

I decided to spend my morning attending two churches of two denominations of which I had never been to before: Presbyterian and Unitarian Universalist. Two very different, but very similar experiences. Both services were topically the same: service. Serving others. Being more selfless. (Which made me think, OK, God, what are you saying here??)

The Presbos were awesome. This ancient couple (the guy was from England!) sat next to me and we chatted and they were so friendly (People who care!) and I think we might do lunch this week. There was joy and celebration and laughter and awkwardness and beauty and love and grace and power.

The UU service was strange. Didn't know what to expect, really. It seemed somewhat cultish, or secret society (without a secret) at best. I had to put on a nametag and sing a song out of a book they refused to call a hymnal. We lit the Truth Chalice at the beginning and extinguished it at the end, both times reading in unison quips of truth and light and love and warmth and community. I had to stand and say my name and why I was there. We shared our Joys and Concerns without praying for them. We kept one another "in our thoughts". I was corned and asked about my background, and told that I was always welcome and that it was hoped upon my return. I met some deranged lady in the parking lot who insisted on talking to me while I was on the phone, and somehow came to the conclusion that I was from Souix City. I suppose they are right in a church service, but it was more of a societal gathering.

In both services service was highlighted. Do good to those around you. Notice invitations to serve others. Don't just intellectualize, take action! Live deliberately...for others and to serve God. As I walked out of the building that had intrigued me since I first saw it, I wondered what the difference was between the two services. Essentially the same message. Why was there no power in the second one? I left the first service geared up and ready to do big things...and left the second wondering what hope or motivation there was for serving.

I climbed into my car in the midst of rumination, and turned it on. I hit play on my iPod, and David Crowder's You Alone was next on the randomized playlist. As I sang the words along with him, my eyes welled up with tears and I was never so proud to be a Christian. The irony struck me of leaving a powerless church that touts each spiritual journey as individual, that it doesn't matter who you serve -- juxtaposed with the lyrics of the song:

You alone are Father
You alone are good
You alone are Saviour
You alone are GOD.

Praise God for his redemption of fallen man, however that looks in eternity. As for my individual spiritual journey, I am pleased and honored to serve a King. I am grateful for His sacrifice. I am honored to be called His son. For me, today, there is power in the name of Jesus. I am my Beloved's and He is mine.

the opJOSHist

I don't really have much to say, but I wanted to post a ridiggs twist on a somewhat creative title.
p.s. I would LOVE to see a Coweta Tiger

I'm trying to be an opTIMist these days

I try not to watch the news anymore. Partially because we don't have cable and the rabbit ears wrapped with aluminum foil hardly bring in a clear picture. But also because everything seems to be so depressing....the 17-year old whose car was mutilated after hitting a tree while driving drunk; people shooting cops; politicians who lie and bash one another; the list goes on.

Stuff like this makes me completely not like and not trust our society. But every once in a while a story comes along that gives me hope. It makes me think that there are people out there who truly care. Maybe they're doing it for the PR. Maybe their doing it because they really do care. When the kind actions are done in private, I like to choose the latter. Either way, bringing happiness to someone is rarely a bad thing.

mySelf

It still fascinates me how little at home I am even in my own skin, and wonder how many others feel the same. You know who you are. You know who you are. You know who you are. You know who you are. You know who you are. The quintet of words from stolen art that now hangs in my office eternally resound and reverberate through the corridors of my life. They often don’t serve as a reminder that I know who I am. You think you know who you are, or you wish you knew who you were, or who are you? are better indicators of how found I am.

You know who you are. Who are you?

I am the one lost sheep. I am the silver coin that abandoned the other nine. I am the lost son who followed his ‘heart’ to find his ‘happiness’, only to realize too late that Disney World is a large and loud place, and his father and mother were no longer where he thought them to be—beside him. Was it they that left him? I couldn’t read the guide map. I didn’t know where I was. The 'happiness' waned, soon replaced by fear.

I am surrounded by strange people in a strange place. I know who I am. I am the one with no way home. I am the one who strayed. I am the one who leaves Joy to pursue happiness. I am the one with no hope. I am the lost son, the lost coin, the lost sheep.

I am the sinner who repents to find the host of angels singing and rejoicing that the One with fiery eyes has again risked it all to find the lost sheep, has again turned the house upside down for the sake of the silver coin, has again searched a theme park for a lost little boy and rejoices at the reunion of Father and son. I know who I am. I am the one who has been found, the bastard predestined to be adopted as His son. I am the one with Hope.

With each passing day, the stolen words become less haunting. Perhaps I am becoming more acclimated to the sound of them, perhaps more comfortable with their meaning. The more I discover myself the more I find there is to discover. The more I see how I am to play out my role in this colossal mixture of land and water, the more room I see to grow. In seasons I figure out the meaning of those words in my life, but those seasons pass as quickly as they come.

How is it that identity is so elusive? Who should know me better than…me? Sometimes familiarity breeds contempt. The more comfortable I become with who I am, the more honest I am with my true self, the more I see I am not someone I would even want to hang out with. My insecurities run deep.

"Remember who you are, and whose you are." "You know who you are."

I’m sure the words comfort some. But the questioners? What of them? Introverted or extroverted? Strategic versus Diplomatic? Solving problems with people or with programs? External or internal locus of control? (do i have control of that, and in wondering does that automatically mean I have an external locus of control?) What of me? Who am I? What makes me come alive? What makes you come alive? You know who you are. Or do you? Ever?

As I find myself in the midst of this journey (one I would never have willingly signed on for) of discovery over the past several years, I find this snippet from Keirsey at least thought-provoking, if not fully-resonant. Is a comprehensive understanding of self something attainable, or in attainment is the understanding completely defeated?

[Background for the following quote…David Keirsey, in his book Please Understand Me II, describes four main categories of personalities, determined by temperament, character, and intelligent roles we play in our social context. He begins with the Myers-Briggs letter E/I, N/S, F/T, and J/P and expands from there. One of the four types is the Idealist, or those who are NF’s, so when you see those terms (capitalized) it is a reference to one of his four types, not someone who is an idealist.]

“But even more mystifying is the paradox coiled at the very center of this search, namely, that the search for Self is fundamentally incompatible with the achievement of finding the Self. For many NF’s the search for Self is a quest which becomes very much an end in itself, and which can come to dominate their lives. Thus, the Idealists’ truest Self comes to be the Self in search of itself, or, in other words, their purpose in life becomes to have a purpose in life. But how can one achieve a goal when that goal is to have a goal? Intent on becoming themselves, Idealists can never truly be themselves, since the very act of reaching for the Self immediately puts it out of reach. In their enthusiasm for self-discovery, then Idealists can become trapped in paradox: they are themselves only if they are searching for themselves, and they would cease being themselves if they ever found themselves.

Late in his life Siddhartha tries to explain this contradiction between seeking and finding to his friend Govinda, a Buddhist monk who has spent his life searching for himself. It might be, Siddhartha tells him, that

‘you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.’
‘How is that?’ asked Govinda.
‘When someone is seeking,’ said Siddhartha, ‘it happens quite easily…that he is unable to find anything, unable to absorb anything, because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal.’

The seeking impedes the finding; the search for identity is its own obstacle. Some Idealists no doubt reach Siddhartha’s perspective and find their true Self, which means that they finally give up struggling to become some perfected idea of themselves, and simply accept themselves as they are, somewhat short of ideal. But for many NF’s, the search for identity only winds them more deeply in the complexities of inner division and self-contradiction: the more they seek their ideal Self, the more frustrated they are in their search.”

I know I am given to be over-analytical and think too much, but out of curiosity, does this passage resonate with any of you? Do you wrestle with concepts of identity and who you are? Have you ever? Is identity something you find or do you create it for yourself (and in creating it, is it your Self that determines You, making in essence the creation of identity in actuality discovery)? Do you know who you are, or does that phrase have a haunting ring to it? Did any of this make any sense?

the opTIMist

(i didn't want dan to have a monopoly on melancholy, so here's a stream of consciousness poem i wrote a little while back...)

i think
in this moment I choose to be celibate.
no amount of love can heal this pain,
no amount of love can make this ok.
it doesn't matter the giving or receiving end
--or perhaps--the taking or losing...
both tax the very soul--the inmost core.
saline cheeks and quivering lips can only mean
i was wrong.
again.
what little confidence gasped for life--
choked to death in the cold hands of spite
as if it weren't easy enough to be cynical.
and it doesn't take much light to reveal the imperfections in me.
anymore.
i dare not dream tonight and ruin this moment.
for what good is Hope?
She died fifteen minutes ago. or was it days? years?
surely she knows I really did care.
i mean--do--do care.
"i'll see you at the wedding" she said
as if that were good enough. for her.
maybe i am meant to be alone.
surely i am made to be lonely.
i would choose loneliness before hurting you
because the very thing i did to protect you
was the very thing that robbed us both of life.
i didn't mean to.
i just don't know who i am. and no,
that's not good enough for me either.
my eyes have never looked so green (or so red).
so here's my white flag--
i'll try not to be surprised when You hang me with it.

life and death

so thats kinda been a theme in my life the past weekish... on monday night i got in a car accident, it was pretty nuts i was just sitting at an intersection and two cars obliterated each other right there... a minivan flew up in the air landed on its side, rolled over then started sliding and slammed into me, the other car an envoy ended up upside down and backwards... it was one of the most severe accidents ive ever been close to, and although i was fine and everyone else seemed to be fairly ok i recognize that if i was in that intersection i might have died or at least been injured severely.... that really got me thinking about how true it is when the bible talks about our live being a vapor... our lives can be over at any time at all, its crazy to think about...

then this morning i was talking with my friend who is teaching in china and is trying to get me to do the same. i am giving it fairly serious consideration and i was asking him about the ministry of it, like what are you allowed to do, what arent you allowed to do, things like that. so he tells me that you cant talk about jesus, like not at all. so i asked what happens if i do, and basically i would get deported and the person i was talking to goes to prison. the weight of that really hit me; i dont know a lot about chinese prisons, but you know you hear stories, and maybe its not always terrible, but just the fact that there are lives on the line if i share the gospel in china, thats overwhelming. and then i started thinking about it more and lives are always on the line when it comes to the gospel, always. But its more than just lives, its peoples eternity, and yet i handle the gospel flippantly so often. I dont cherish it. I dont think about its power, and even if i talk about it, i dont let it impact my life profoundly...

the gospel is the hope of the world.

why does jesus entrust people like the four of us with the gospel, with His good news... i dont understand that. why does God let me know His truth when He knew before time began how poorly i would handle it. and how i would keep it to myself so often. even though lives are on the line...
the gospel really is the hope of the world, the only hope of the world. and i know that it is, and i want so badly for that to sink in and effect how i live daily. so badly i want that...

dumb

i am dumb.
i have the worst blogger name, no danger or lateness in it. not even cool initials...i almost changed it but i thought it to be rather fitting. also i joked with josh about being the worst writer on the blog cause im not good at english, and then i just read everyone elses little blogs or posts or whatever you want to call them, and i realize that it blows when false humility bites you in the ass...but i guess that stuff happens.
that was my introduction.
so im excited about this blog. i was down in tampa this weekend and i really was excited to get home to write in this. i dont know why i was excited really, i dont feel like i have anything pressing to say, in fact maybe the most pressing this is the lack of pressing things in my life. i dont really know what you guys are gonna say, and i hope that i can add valuable things, but i feel like right now i dont have a ton to add in life. i feel pretty empty. like you know how they say you gotta be filled up to be able to pour into other people...well i feel like i couldnt do that right now. i feel like so confused bc i want so badly to have influence in this world, and im convinced so much that Jesus is the hope of the world, and really the worlds only hope. and i wanna be able to impact this world with that truth, but i feel more impotent to do that then i ever have in my whole life. i know that its really jesus who does that and not me and i know all that good stuff, but i still feel weak and so hopeless.
i did get to talk to a friend this weekend in tampa who is really struggling with lesbianism. it was really cool to get to talk to her about it, and she knows she shouldnt do it, but its just really hard for her. and i just didnt know what to say, and i prayed a lot while i was sitting there with her and asked God for help, but i still just feel like im not sure i did any good. and i had no idea what to say or anything like that. its a really hard issue, i mean what do you do with it when she says that her lesbian friends have been so good to her and loved her and all that, and so many of her "christian" friends have kinda abandoned her. what do i say to that. what do i say considering ive seen her maybe 5 times in the past 2 years. maybe ive prayed for her 5 times since i found out that she was really struggling with this, and thats been about a year, and i never talked to her about it either...what kind of love is that? thats the love of jesus?

im overwhelmed by that situation. im overwhelmed by my life, i am incapable of handling it, im going through my life day by day just winging it. hoping it goes well. hoping things turn out ok. no intentionality, just winging it. and i dont know how to change any of it. and i know that jesus does that, but why isnt it happening if jesus does it.

i could go on like this for a long time, but i think im gonna stop now and spare you all. i have lots of incoherent rambling in my head, and i havent proofread this, but im sure its incredibly disjointed...thats what my mind feels like. it feels disjointed. i really want clarity, i want direction, i want to have something to go for, but i dont have it, or maybe im scared to have it...i dont know.

enough is enough, i love you guys, and i promise my posts wont always be obnoxious and down, i wont always be a debbie downer, but really i do love you all, and thanks for letting me write on this with you. even just babbling just now was good for my heart...much love

airplans

I'm no stranger to being alone, but I feel the loneliest when I travel solo. It’s almost ironic. I see more people in several hours than in a typical week, yet despite the sea of sojourners, I am awkwardly all alone. I desperately desire someone to do life with. Experience is all the sweeter when shared with people you care for. You can think of your own personal examples of the times when life would just not have been the same if you were by yourself. Airplanes and airports only amplify my solitude.

Often it is a romantic attitude. I want to share my journeys, my joys, my jokes—my experiences, my life, my armrest…with that one special girl. I hate when the seat beside me is empty or (God forbid!) someone I don’t know, but today it is especially bad. The boys in their business suits silently scream “I’m important” as they rush to reply before we take flight. The young lad across the aisle is adorable (as most well-behaved children are), filled with the distrait emotions of his happiest holiday and heading home. The couple beside me is exceptionally annoying (but blissfully sweet). She doesn’t have a ring…maybe we should meet, I think to myself. The cool flow of air from the port above tousles my hair, and for a moment I wish it were a soft feminine whisper and not some mechanical process. I long for a hand to hold. I want to wake Her up and tell Her how much I want to jump into the pool of cotton balls just beneath our wings, even if Her quickly closing eyes say She doesn’t care.

I’ve never been quite so disappointed with a safe landing. An hour prior I had convinced myself that a crash landing in the middle of nowhere would have been preferable. I was to be the sole survivor, perhaps sustaining a serious injury in which I would have to self-amputate a foot or begin my journey toward civilization with a broken femur, in proof of my masculinity. For then loneliness would be OK. It was unavoidable—the pilot didn't even survive, nor the ringless girl on my left. Just me and a change of socks and a shattered pelvis on my way back home. Maybe I’d even be noticed at my return, heralded as that guy who did that thing that one time. And maybe, just maybe, the Girl would look at me in the way I want Her to.

By the second leg, thoughts of a crash landing had subsided, along with the lingering longing for love found in a terminal, thanks to a distraction provided by a poorly written but entirely engaging psychology book. As we began our descent the plane creaked and moaned as a ship sinking in a storm. The turbines roared as if the pilot had shifted down four gears too many. We shook violently for what seemed like a thirty-second eternity through what I desperately hoped to be turbulence. Slowly an unrealized fear crept up into my chest and I cursed my earlier thoughts of a crash landing.

In that moment I became grateful. I felt absolutely powerless and out of control, much like I generally do when pursuing a girl. It shook me, and when all my effects had been removed from my pockets, I recognized how fortunate I am. There may be a lot of things that I don’t have that I would like, but I have a greater group of friends than I could have scripted in my wildest story. I have shared with them the life that I do have. I appreciate them for always being there in the good times and the bad. I love how they encourage me to make the most of this one life we have in this turbulent place. I love them. (I love you.)

Introduction

I would like to introduce myself.
My name is danger. I picked that name out myself. It's cuz I'm so dangerous. But fo reel. I thought if I used this name I could get away with more crazy stuff. After all- my name IS danger!
On Saturday last I spent a considerable amount of time at Santana Row outside of San Francisco (p.s. that is not an interesting link- just a link to a mall. Boooooooring ). I spent over 4 hours in three stores! Maybe I was a little bored. Wandering around Anthropologie, I found a book on the ISMS of art. It was a pretty lame read until I got to Post-modernISM. I've never quite thought of myself as post-modernistic, but I essentially was reading the inside of my soul while reading that chapter (over exaggeration). Really it was the chapter on ConceptualISM and Post-concenptualISM that served me my reality. From what I gathered about Post-conceptualISM is the idea that the concept is more important than the actual outcome. They say that, in theory, that if you were to explain a Post-conceptual piece of work to someone, they wouldn't even have to see the physical art in order to fully appreciate it.
I'm all about this "it's the thought that counts" type of art. I think it is a great excuse for sub par craftsmanship, and really brings us back to the power of our minds. But seriously, I have always thought it was near impossible to fully convey an idea through a work of art. This movement realizes that and embraces the fact that no matter what you do, people will read it differently.
Yesterday, my wife and I decided to move to Salt Lake City. I wonder what people will say about that decision. I hope they will want to visit, but who knows what they may be thinking. The great part is that I never know what I'm even thinking about it. I tend to hype things up in my mind. My mind tells me how great it will be, and how life couldn't be better. Maybe it could be though. Maybe I'll get there and my life won't be in a paradigm shift. Maybe the physical reality will not be as devastatingly impactfull as the dream of the same reality- but it's not so much about what comes of the dream, as much as the ream itself, right? See, VERY Post-conceptualistic of me.
Even in writing this blog, I realize that these thoughts sounded much better in my head. When written out, they are actually quite mundane. But then, maybe you got some great life realization from it. Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. Different people, different things. You know how it goes.

Newness

Starting something new always makes me a little nervous. You gotta start with an idea, and then somehow squeeze enough creativity out to bring it to fruition. But not only bring it, but also sustain it.

Writing always makes me anxious. There's always a starting point. But where is that starting point? It first starts with a letter, then a word, then a sentence. And before you know it you have a whole paragraph. You get the picture. But that starting point is sometimes very elusive. And seeking it out makes me anxious.

The idea of starting a new blog totally freaks me out. With the millions of ideas floating around the internet, what makes anything I have to say so unique? Especially since a blog involves words. And we know how words and laying them out makes me feel. But maybe I do have something to offer. Probably not something that will be world changing--maybe not even life changing. But my Creator created words. And he created me to use those words. So I'm going to offer up those words he's given me. They might make me a little nervous as I try to write them out, but hopefully they'll make you laugh (with me or for me, it doesn't really matter) or maybe make you think.

Oh, while on the subject of starting new things, I have just recently become the number two man for the middle school ministry at my church. Basically, I'm the youth pastor when he's not there. I'm in charge of organizing and managing Wednesday night youth group and Sunday School. Middle schoolers are a breed unlike any other. They think, talk, and smell different than any other people group in the world. Nervous? Yes. Excited? Yes. Bring it and sustain it? We'll see.