Writing out your punctuations[period]

Time for a pet peeve [exclamation point]

Have you ever seen someone post their e[hyphen]mail address with the little punctuations in it written out between brackets [question mark] Here[apostrophe]s mine as an example [colon]

seth [dot] helpap [at] gmail [dot] com

I mean [comma] I suppose it can be helpful for those of us who have been living in a cave for the last decade and didn[apostrophe]t know that in internet termology [comma] the period is pronounced [comma] [begin quote] dot [period][end quote]

But really [comma] do we honestly need to phonetically write out the punctuations of e[hyphen]mail addresses [question mark] Maybe it[apostrophe]s just me [comma] but having to actually read what could be [comma] should be [comma] and so easily is already understood [open parentheses] or we assume most people would understand it [close parentheses] is a bit of an annoyance to have to read [period] Not to mention [comma] suppose someone out there has never typed in an e[hyphen]mail address before and doesn[apostrophe]t realize that [begin quote] dot [end quote] is really supposed to be a period [comma] and [begin quote] at [end quote] is really supposed to be this squiggle thingy [colon][begin quote] @ [end quote][period]

So there[apostrophe]s my two cents on the subject [period] If you[apostrophe]re going to type out your e[hyphen]mail address [comma] just type it as you normally would [comma] especially for the sake of those of us who like to just copy and paste the address when needed instead of typing it out ourselves [period]

Thanks [exclamation point]

Where I've been

I haven't updated in a while. And there's a reason. I think in my last entry I wrote that I haven't written lately because I just hadn't found the right time. And I guess that's sort of true, if by "right time" I am implying that my life has to be going well and I have to be feeling good and happy and all. Because these last few months, I haven't felt that great or happy, and I haven't felt much like writing.

Have you ever had one of those moments of sudden realization, where you just look back and think, "How did I not see that coming?" I had a moment like that a few weeks ago, after about a month of really struggling with a lot of things that, to be honest, hadn't really been much of a bother to me in years. I found myself in bad moods far more often than usual, I felt almost no desire to talk to my roommates about anything in my life below just the surface of "work was good," and lies I thought were long gone from my mind were suddenly flooding back into my consciousness, screaming with all their might to deafen my ears to God's truth. And I couldn't figure out why my life seemed to suck all of a sudden. Nothing had really changed in my circumstances, I wasn't depressed to be where I was and still am, life was just going on as usual.

And then I remembered: I want change in my life. This blog began out of a desire to see change come into my life. I desired to see God bring me to new places, new heights, to take me deeper in my relationship with Him and see fears I've struggled with for years disappear in the light of God's truth.

So it should come as no surprise that I found myself being bombarded with attacks meant to keep me fixed right where I've been for so long, living in fear of judgment, lacking confidence in myself.

A few years ago, I saw this poster at my church that said something like this: "When you decide to get serious about God, Satan decides to get serious about you." And more than once in my life I've seen this truth in action. If you don't bother much with pursuing the life God has for you, Satan knows he doesn't need to bother too much with you, because you aren't much of a danger to him. But when you decide to go after all that God has to offer, you become dangerous. You become a threat to the devil's plans. And he takes that very seriously.

It kind of amuses me that I found myself so caught off guard. I wonder how I didn't see it coming, why I didn't think back at the beginning of this, "I'm striving for more of what God has for me, so I better start praying and watching out now, because chances are I'm gonna be under attack." I wanted to change for the better, to become more of the man God has created me to be, so it doesn't surprise me at all now to realize that, yeah, Satan would probably want to do everything he could to try and keep me from moving in that direction. Because a guy who refuses to speak to most people, who's afraid to share his faith with others, who won't pray out loud, won't speak truth into the lives of others, who thinks it's easier just getting by than actually trying to take a risk, who'd rather go unnoticed, is no threat to the works of the enemy. And that's who I've been most of my life. But that's not who I want to be. I want to be different. I want to be me. I want to be the man God created me to be. And I know it's none of those things I just listed up there. I'm not meant to be quiet. I'm not meant to hide my faith. I'm not meant to be afraid to pray and encourage and speak truth into others. And the world, whether all of it or just a little, needs to know I'm here.

I know I'm meant to change, but it's been such a struggle, and these last few months I've more often than not found myself feeling stuck. I've found myself trapped in lies I thought I had stopped listening to so long ago, struggling with temptations and discouraging thoughts I thought I had grown beyond. And I don't really feel better yet. Some days are good, some days aren't. Some days I feel such joy and passion in life, and others, I find myself avoiding the very friends I need to talk with most, friends God has given me to teach me, to encourage me, to help me and pray for me and walk with me. It has been a time of daring to dream, then writing off those dreams as mere wastes of time. It's been a time of indecision, of wanting one thing, and then another, then back to the first, then neither. A time of weakness, and a time of overcoming. A time of faithfulness, and a time of stumbling. A time of hope, and a time of hopelessness. And it feels like just when I think I've overcome one lie, one temptation, one doubt, a stronger one enters the picture and the hope crashes once more. Or just when I feel like I've got no choice, that the decision has been made up and this pathetic excuse called contentment is all I can hope for, suddenly there is hope in my heart, and I find myself climbing out of the pit of despair into a light I didn't know was so close all along.

So that's where I've been lately, and where I still am. I hope to write more often. There have been so many things I've wanted to write about, but it's just been difficult finding the motivation. But hopefully I'll keep writing, because I really do love to.

New Blog!

Awesome news! My friend, Chrisha, and I have begun a new blog together! And it's not just your typical blog, it's an on-going story blog. We're coauthoring a story, and you can head on over to the site and read along as we write it one entry at a time!

I'd give you a description of the story, but as we're kind of making it up as we go, there's not a lot to tell yet. But it's off to a good start, full of mystery and intrigue, a car named Clyde, and a mischievous Hershey's Chocolate Sause bottle...

And the story is called, "The Wayward Wily Whistler Was."

As for my own blog here, I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. I've been meaning to, and I've got a number of entries I'd love to write, but I just haven't found the right time to write lately. But I hope to very soon, so keep checking back!

Inexplicable fun on a Saturday night

Four mid-twenties single men should not have this much fun in this way on a Saturday night...

It began around 5pm or so as my roommate, Justin, decided he could wait no longer to finally eat at a Chick-fil-a. For those of you who have not been blessed with the opportunity to live near one, Chick-fil-a is what many would argue to be the best fast food restaurant chain in existence. Home of the chicken sandwich, with delicious waffle fries and chicken nuggets that you can actually believe came off a real chicken, Chick-fil-a is to the south what Ale-8 is to Kentucky...which, I've just realized, is an even more obscure jewel of the food industry, so I apologize for the bad analogy (to give you a bit of perspective, if you've never tried Ale-8, you haven't really lived; it's that good). Chick-fil-a is a fast food chain in the southern states, with a few obscurely random western locations blessing us out here on the So Cal coast. There is one about a mile from where I work in Orange County, which makes everyone I know rather jealous, because the nearest one to where we live is about 15 miles away. Down a busy highway. Which is a bit of a drive to make for a chicken sandwich, no matter how delicious.

Justin has been longing to make the drive for months, and tonight he finally decided the time was right; he would wait no longer for his precious chicken dinner, so he convinced the rest of us here in the apartment to make an evening out of it. After a bit of convincing (especially for me, the one who can enjoy it any day of the week), we piled into his car and headed south.

And the traffic sucked. But we cared not, for Greg kept us entertained, first with live tv on his Verizon cell phone, then with the GPS lady on his phone trying to direct us to the restaurant while we refused to follow her directions:

"Turn left in 300 feet"

U-turn!

"Recalculating route..."

After a bit of debating whether or not the restaurant was located in the mall the GPS had led us to, and after a little circling of the parking lot, leaving the parking lot, and immediately re-entering the parking lot, we headed inside, found the fabled destination in the food court, and partook of its delectable quick cuisine.

And now I'm gonna stop with the silly wordings like "partook."

It was great. A little taste of our college years (3 of the 4 of us went to school in Kentucky, where we were spoiled on both Chick-fil-a and Ale-8). And we somehow wound up with an extra serving of waffle fries, which just made the trip that much more worth it.

Afterwards, each of us nice and full of greasy chicken goodness, we decided to walk around the mall a bit. And that was when the fun began...

As we got off the escalator onto the second floor on our way down, Justin spotted the Yankee Candle Co. store nearby and suggested we stop in. Seeing as we all appreciate having a few good scented candles around the apartment, and the ones we bought last were nearly spent, we figured we might as well. And so we headed over to the store, walked on in, and proceeded to spend the next half hour there.

Candle stores really are amazing. They smell like what you can only wish your home smelled like all the time. And even with so many varieties of scents, the smell that hits your nose as you walk in never fails to entice you to open a few jars and test the candles out. Vanilla Lime, Mid Summer's Night, Mango Peach Salsa, so many to sample. And with it being mid-November, there were the Christmas scents as well: Red Apple Wreath, Home for the Holidays (which, yes, is in fact a scent, not a vacation), and our personal favorite discovery: Christmas Cookies, which had our mouths watering the moment we popped open the lid.

Down the shelves we slowly moved, trying each new candle along the way. Some were good, some were not, some were strong, some were weak. There were a few nostalgic scents that brought back childhood memories, and other candles that amazed us with their accuracy, such as Clean Cotton, which smelled exactly like a freshly washed load of cotton laundry just as you're pulling it from the dryer. And to top it all off, there were those few incredible scents which just screamed at us, "You want me to go with you on your honeymoon!"

The store had a nice deal going on their Christmas candles--buy one, get the second half off--so we decided on the Christmas Cookies scent, and some cinnamon one which I can't remember the name of and I'm too lazy to go downstairs and read it off the label. And with the purchase came a nice coupon which we could redeem on-line if we wanted to receive $10 off our next purchase.

But there was one thing that had grabbed my attention and wouldn't let me walk away: the rows and rows of little candles, which were on sale: twelve for $18. Over 40 scents to choose from. You could go home with a little taste of so many good candles (yes, taste; I'm getting tired of the word "scent"). So I turned to my roommates and said I would buy us the dozen little ones to put in our bathrooms and asked for their suggestions. Then to go with them, I bought a few glass holders so the wax from them wouldn't run all over our countertops. But wait, there's more! we discovered. The guy working the counter showed us these decorative metal candle jar toppers which would allow us to burn the larger candles we'd bought more evenly so that we wouldn't waste the wax nearest the sides of the jar. They even had one on display near the cash register, so we could see that they actually worked. It was quite the debate which top we would buy. We each had our favorites, but it came down to two that we were torn over. So Greg put them behind his back, then I moved them around so not even he could know which hand held which, and Justin and Jake played rock-paper-scissors to see who would choose which hand. I was happy to see the one I considered the better of the two get picked :)

And as we're setting my new dozen little candles on the counter next to our new handy candle accessory, we finally think to ask the guy which scents he likes the best. And wouldn't you know it, he points out a Black Cherry scent that we had all somehow overlooked. He described it as being so potently strong and good, a moose could enter your house, relieve itself on your couch, and this candle would still be all you could smell. So we all headed over to it to see if he was right, and boy was he. One whiff of it and I capped the jar and took it up to the counter to add it to my spoils. And since I was now buying a jar candle myself, I decided to toss in my own favorite jar candle metal topper thingy (I'm pretty sure that's what they were really called), which, unlike our other one, was not so Christmas specific in its design and would be better for year round usage.

It took a little while to ring up my selection of candles, as I'd gone for twelve different little ones, but it was okay because while he rang them up, Greg was busy on his phone, using the internet to enter in that coupon Justin had received so that we could get $10 off my purchase without having to go all the way home just to use a computer. It took a little while, as the signal inside the store wasn't very strong, but in the end, he received his coupon code, the guy entered it in, an I saved $10!

And loaded up with two wonderfully smelling bags, and with the longest receipt I've ever received from a store tucked away in my pocket, we headed out of the store smiling and laughing at how much fun we four guys had just had in a candle store on a Saturday night.

Then, to reclaim a bit of our masculinity, we went directly to the store that specialized in medieval swords and perused the weaponry for a while before heading home.

I'm still here!

Greetings, my vast multitudes of readers spanning an entire nation!

Mom in Michigan, sis in Virginia, roommate(s)(?) in California.....

So sorry for the lack of entries these last few weeks. Part of the time has been spent in Virginia watching the sis get married (went really well, and some of the 633 photos I took turned out great), and the rest of the time has been spent at work.

For the uninitiated, I work at a small production company that produces live stage productions and videos for car companies who want to show off their new products to themselves. This is accomplished in the form of Dealer meetings and auto shows around the country. And in just under two weeks we've got two shows happening in two days, so work's been busy, the hours have run late every night, and it's even begun to spill over into the weekends. When I have had time to write, I just haven't had the desire to sit in front of a computer any more than I have to.

But I didn't want to leave you completely in the dark too much. So here's what's going on in my life, things God is teaching me, and stuff I've been thinking about:

1. I need to start dreaming again.

2. I'm thinking of starting another blog soon, co-authored with a friend, but we have to both find the time first to actually get it up and running...stay tuned.

3. God likes it when we ask for ridiculously big things, especially the ones that are so out there, we don't even want to ask because we just know it'd never happen.

4. My sister's wedding was awesome, and yet I came away surprisingly happy to be single. But not because I'm afraid of the commitment or the responsibility or anything like that.

5. Life is tough. Change is hard. But I thank God for the discomforts He helps me into every day to teach me new things.

6. I need to go grocery shopping.

7. I'm hoping my next post here will be the fifth(? I forgot what number I left off on) and final entry in the "Why I'm Quiet" series, lovingly entitled, "Judgment, or Why My Hill Is The Only One Not Alive With The Sound Of Music."

I may shorted that title a bit, or change it entirely to steer clear of copyright infringement, maybe go with something more positive sounding even. We'll have to wait and see...And now we're going up on the roof, so I need to go. Be back soon hopefully!

A Sudden Random Thought #4: The Truth About Santa

In the two months I've had this blog, I've had a decent number of ideas for things I've wanted to write about that haven't been posted yet. Some due to time, some to forgetfulness, but there's this one that just eludes me in the most ironic of ways. I would really like to write a post about waiting, what it means to have to just wait, to be patient because that's all you can do, and why that is such a good season of life to go through. Yet every time I feel like writing that post, either a different topic gets laid on my heart that needs to get out first, or when I sit down to write, I just find myself faced with the realization that it's just not the right time yet to write that post....I'm waiting to write about waiting...

So while we wait, I thought I'd write instead about Santa Claus.

Hang on a sec, I gotta throw on some Christmas music for this one....

Ahh. That's better. Vince Guaraldi's, "A Charlie Brown Christmas." Classic.

Tonight as work was wrapping up and things were rendering for my boss (ie: the computer was doing all the work and I had a little time to spare), I dropped by the blog, The Prodigal Jon (written by the same guy who writes Stuff Christians Like, and both are great blogs), and while I can't remember what post I was reading or what it said (I read a few different posts in a row, and now I forget which one struck me with this thought), a random thought hit me: Santa Claus may not be all that he's cracked up to be.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love Santa (I just remembered which post it was :)  ). I always looked forward to his arrival each year, and yet when I found out he wasn't real (my apologies to anyone I just dropped the bomb on...I'll pause a moment while you shed a few tears.....alright, moving on), I didn't have any difficulty accepting it. And will I tell my kids someday that Santa's coming? Probably.

But what I read tonight made me stop and think, are we inadvertently teaching kids a wrong mindset that they may take into their relationship with God someday?

We live in a world of work first, payment later. Do now, benefit after. Which makes sense, for the most part. If someone paid you to do a job before you did it, how motivated would you be to finish that job to the best of your ability, really? You've got the money already, and no more is coming, so wouldn't you just want to get the work over as quick as possible so you could go out and spend what you already made?

But God, I'm realizing, doesn't work like that. His salvation, His love, His grace and mercy, and His forgiveness: they're all free and upfront.

One of the lies I've struggled with most over the years is the thought that, after I've sinned, I needed to make up for it somehow. I had to be good for a long enough period of time for the stain of that sin to really be washed away. I needed to focus more on God, read my Bible more and pray more, in order for things to get better again. I felt like I had to earn the forgiveness, because if I didn't, the guilt and shame might not go away.

But that's not at all the way God works. Just look at the parable of the Prodigal Son (the inspiration behind the blog, The Prodigal Jon, in case that wasn't already obvious) in Luke 15. After demanding his father give him his inheritance, then going off and throwing away the money on wild living, the son comes back home with the intention of asking his father to hire him as a servant. But instead, the father doesn't even let his lost son make the request. At the mere sight of him coming down the road, the father runs to him, throws his arms around him, and starts yelling out instructions for party preparations. This son who was once lost and was now found would not be made to work off his sins, but was welcomed back joyfully without a single question asked, a single demand for repayment made.

And that's how I think God is. When I stumble and fall into sin and turn back to him to ask for His forgiveness, He doesn't respond with instructions for how I can repay Him. There's no waiting period for receiving His grace. The moment I return to Him, He is there, running to me with open arms, a big smile on His face, and tears of joy in His eyes, so happy to see me again. And He throws me a welcome home party. I don't deserve it one bit, but that's who God is.

Is that who Santa is? I was thinking about that tonight, and I realized it's not a good description of Santa at all. Unlike God, Santa's got a list, and he keeps a close watch on it. He knows who's been good and who's been bad, and while he rewards those who have worked hard to be good, he leaves lumps of coal for those who didn't live up to his standards. Work first, reward later. Fail, punishment.

We teach our kids that this person they can't see is watching them, judging them, and if they're good enough, he'll reward them. And I wonder, how many kids subconsciously transfer that mindset into their relationship with God one day, believing that God is like Santa: you can't see Him, but you know He's watching, judging your behavior, and if you're not good enough He's going to punish you with not nice things. When really, that's not who God is at all.

I could go much deeper into this, but the music just ran out and this is probably long enough for a somewhat random thought this evening. Hopefully it made sense, and I'm not trying to say that Santa's a bad guy and we should shun him like...some metaphorical thing that needs shunning (it's getting late). But when the time comes to teach our kids the truth about Santa and his unfortunate non-existence, and at the same time teach them about the Lord and His very real and good existence, I just think it'd be good to be wise about helping our children see the difference between God and Santa so that they won't go through years of life trying to earn what God has already freely given: His love, His Salvation, His grace, His mercy, and His forgiveness.

Overcoming Fear; or Why Rejection Sucks, But In a Good Way

"And in that moment, I had to decide that all my fears would not be allowed to rob from me the life I longed for. And so 25 years ago, I stepped into that fear and went through it and asked Kim to be my wife. And in that moment, my life changed for the better in a way that I could have never known. And I want you to know...that there is a life worth pursuing on the other side of your fears."

-Erwin McManus, testifying to his fear of commitment at the end of a sermon entitled, Fear.

Having spent a good portion of my life letting my fears dictate my decisions, I know what it feels like to know I've missed out on something more. I know the pain of seeing disappointment in someone's eyes as I refuse their offer, their suggestion to help me grow. I've been so consumed by fears that, at times, I have longed for the heartache of regret to just go numb so I could just get through this life and be content to live a life unfulfilled, because it just seemed easier not to try. But I thank God so much for that heartache, that painful reminder that I was made for something more, and that life is not something to get through, but something to be experienced, to be filled with experience, and with joy, and with sorrow, and love and tears and hugs and community and smiles and a million moments with a million different emotions, all of it drawing me closer to the God who made me and loves me and wants me to live. And not just me, but all of us.

Fear is a strange thing. It's something we all deal with, yet it's different for each of us. While I struggle with a fear of being judged, I have friends who show absolutely no care at all for what others might think of them. Yet they have their own fears (fears of heights, of water, large crowds, etc.) that I don't struggle with at all. Why does fear work like that? I don't know. Why am I able to hang by a few short ropes and small metal carabiners 40, 50 feet above the ground without a worry, but I can't convince myself to speak up and talk in front of large groups and crowds? Why is it that, while I'm up there in those trees, happy as a monkey with a whole bunch of bananas, across some wires on another tree is a person who is just freaking out and on the brink of tears because they can't find the courage in themselves to step out on those wires and trust what something inside of them is trying so hard to tell them, that those ropes, those carabiners, and that belayer down on the ground are not going to let them fall? And yet a few days later, I see that same person stand up before an entire camp and testify of their camp experience, without the slightest fear of what everyone listening to them will think of them?

We all struggle with fears of some sort as we walk through life. Fears of spiders, clowns, the dark, total silence...the list goes on. But it's what we do with those fears that really matters.

In that quote above, Erwin McManus was talking about how, once upon a time, he was afraid to step up and commit to his then girlfriend, Kim. Kim's friends had advised her to break up with Erwin, because he clearly showed no desire to commit to her. So he found himself faced with his fear, and decided he loved her too much to let his fear of commitment ruin something that could be so good. And as he said, it was a risk that paid off better than he could have hoped.

Looking fear in the face, weighing the differences, and realizing that doing something is almost always better than doing nothing is where fear is overcome. Stepping up, stepping out, letting go of yourself and trusting God to get you through whatever the outcome may be...especially when it's quite possible that outcome will be the one you hope it isn't.

Almost four years ago now, I made that fateful trip that I mentioned in another post; very spurt of the moment, at this sudden urging in my heart, I drove from Michigan to Kentucky to tell a girl that I had feelings for her beyond just those of friendship. Was it because I thought this was a good idea? Hecks no. Most of me was shouting at myself, Dude, you know she doesn't like you like that. What are you doing this for? And the rest of me was tossing in there, Do you know how crazy and stupid this looks and sounds? This wouldn't be news to her; she knew I had a crush on her. I'd even told her in a letter a few months earlier (which is a whole other story). I couldn't afford to spend money on gas and food. None of my friends down there knew I was coming. I couldn't think of a single logical reason to go. But in my heart, I knew that this was a risk I needed to take. To do something I'd never done before, to tell a girl face to face that I had feelings for her. An experience I had avoided all my life with any girl I had ever really liked. It needed to be done, despite the fact that it was 99.9% sure to be awkward as all get out and would just confirm for me yet again that this girl did not see me the way I saw her. So I made the trip, I told her how I felt, and sure enough, I got rejected.

Does that mean I shouldn't have bothered? Because there was no sudden happy ending twist, I should have given in to the fear of rejection and avoided a potentially painful and embarrassing experience? No. Because when you step out into fear to overcome it, it doesn't matter what the outcome is; you've just broken the hold that fear has over you, or at the very least weakened its hold. You've called the bluff and laid down your cards, and after all has been played out, you find that whether you won or lost, you've learned something of great value in that experience.

After that night, my fear of telling a girl how I feel about her was severely diminished. It wasn't eradicated entirely; I still struggle with it because, really, who wants to get rejected? But it no longer held me paralyzed and unable to try when faced with the decision to ask a girl out or not. And beyond that, it destroyed the lies that came along with the fears, those discouraging voices that would remind me of all those other times I'd given way to fear and would say to me, See? You can't do it. You're too afraid. Just like all those other times. You might as well just let this opportunity go by as well because you know you don't have it in you. To give yourself even just one time when you stopped listening to those lies, those discouraging voices, and instead stepped out and took the chance...to have that memory of a fear once overcome is so empowering, and it makes it easier to step up and overcome it again, and again, and again, until it's gone.

The trick, though, is taking that first step...and I'll be the first to admit, I'm not very good at it. There are still so many moments in life when I find myself faced with an opportunity to take a chance and not give in to fear for once, yet I don't seize the moment. I let another chance to grow slip by, another moment to possibly impact someone's life, or to speak truth or encouragement or even needed rebuke into someone's life, or even just to make someone smile. But by God's help, more and more firsts have been taken in my life, and I pray that more and more come along as soon as possible, because I'm sick of seeing those moments slip by and hearing those discouraging thoughts of shame mock me and degrade me. I'm tired of not living fully the life God gave me.

Over this last weekend, I found myself faced with an opportunity to step outside of my comfort zones and do something I've never really done before. I'm not all that comfortable with physical contact beyond simple high fives, fist bumps, and the occasional side hug. Especially when it comes to girls. Yet on Saturday, I found myself hanging out with a friend who is about as opposite from me as one can get: talkative, very friendly, very comfortable with physical contact, and most of all, she's a girl. And she hugged me. Honestly, enough times that day that I lost count. Because that's who she is, and that's cool. And I really appreciated it, because it helped me let go a bit of my fears of physical contact, so much so that I even took a picture with her, with my arms around her shoulders, smiling wide, with my face right next to hers. And if you've ever seen any photos of me, you know that pictures like that just don't exist. So that was good :)

But then there was this other friend, also a girl, also in that group I hung out with on Saturday, who I didn't do so well with. While waiting for our friends to purchase their apple-picking bags and baskets (we went apple picking at this orchard a few hours northwest of the city. It was awesome. I totally recommend it), she and I sat outside. And while we watched other apple pickers walking by, we noticed someone in the distance lose an apple from the top of their bag. It slipped off the pile and fell to the ground unnoticed amongst the feet of families walking to and fro (woot! first use of the word "fro" in my blog!) And my friend turned to me and told me how funny she thought it would be if I'd jump up and rush over there, dive on the apple, and start eating it as though I were half-starved. I laughed, because, yes, that would have looked hilarious and would have gotten a lot of strange looks from the passersby. But I chose not to do it. I made up some excuses, like how I wasn't hungry (which was true, we'd just had lunch; but still, I could have easily eaten a few bites of an apple), and I just sat there and watched the poor, lost apple get kicked around a bit before someone finally picked it up, decided it was no good anymore, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin.

A simple suggestion from a friend; a simple offer to overcome a fear and take hold of an opportunity to step outside my usual character and do something out of the ordinary; a chance to just make a friend laugh. And I let my fears of what the people around us would think keep me from doing it. And yeah, it seems so small, so forgettable. And she may not even really remember that moment now. It may have just come and gone like a bit of wind on a still day. But when you've been given as many chances just like that as I have, and have let so many slip by and had to endure that sigh as your friend accepts that you're just not going to do it, it adds up. And I wish I would have just done it. Just as I wish I would have done a thousand other little silly things over the years.

You can't just create moments like that. Like a good joke, they just have to happen when the moment is right. So I can't go back to her and say, Let me try that again.

[Update: The rest of this post has been removed for two reasons. A) This entry is already too long, and B) Sometimes in life, you have to step back and look at things from a distance, and once you do, you see them clearer than you could up close. And when I reread this entry, the ending didn't feel right anymore. In some future post here one day, I may explain why, so stay tuned...]

Ode to The Lime Juice

My last few posts were pretty serious, so I thought I'd lighten things up  a bit with a new non-sensical poem. So here we go!

Ode to The Lime Juice

In old days of old, 'tween eighteen and twenty, I had me a bit o' a job.

Long hours did tax me, the heat did quite bake me, and t'were not one coworker named Bob.

Late nights, early morning, the sleep was quite lacking, and coffee and I are not mates,

So elsewhere I turned just before the dish stacking...to rhyme, here's a name: Kathy Bates.

Within the fridg'rator between sticks of butter and dressings of ev-er-y kind (yep, 3 syllables there),

A bottle did wait like a coin in the gutter to really awaken my mind.

It's not what you think, not a drink of some stink, or a fink dink ba-dink clink clink clink (what the crap?).

A green flask of lime juice, three drops on a tongue sluice, and awake was I then, so says I.

It kind of fell apart there at the end (tongue sluice? that was a stretch), but it's almost two in the morning. That said, I think I'm gonna go for a walk now before bed because it actually feels like fall outside! And for L.A. that's saying something :)

Oh, and you can blame facebook and its pirate english translator for the odd wordings in there. Two words: Best-thingever....that's right. That's a word. At least for tonight.

Who am I, really?

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." - The Usual Suspects.

Occasionally, someone in Hollywood gets it right.

When I was in sixth grade, a new tradition began at my school. I forget what it was called, exactly, but I fondly (sarcasm) remember it as the "birthday beat down." When it was your birthday, your friends got to punch you (in the arm; they're your friends, after all) once for every year old you were. I witnessed this most intelligent of traditions a couple of times and decided I didn't want it to be my turn one day. It didn't look that bad--I mean, your friends aren't going to hit you so hard you wouldn't want to be their friend anymore--but pain and I don't really get along all too well (something about a baseball to the nose when I was 7), so that year when my birthday rolled around, I conveniently forgot to mention it to my friends. In seventh grade, with rumors of the tradition still circulating, I let the day go by again. And so it went on, even years after the "birthday beat down" fell by the way side.

I've gotten a little better at not hiding, though I still don't broadcast it much, especially as it draws near. I don't let facebook or myspace spread the word, and I don't even tell my roommates. I just went and checked my facebook wall posts from last year, and not a single post went up in the weeks--yes, weeks--around my birthday. Though, oddly, I did notice that I got two birthday wishes one random day five months later...why that happened, I can't remember.

Why don't I tell people about my birthday? I've been to quite a few birthday parties in the last year (another fun thing about being blessed with a community of friends), most of them thrown by the very person who's birthday it was. People seem to enjoy celebrating birthdays, whether it's theirs or not. But with me, it's different. I'm happy to celebrate someone else's b-day, but not so much my own. I mean, I'm not sad to see another year gone by or anything like that. It's just that, to me the idea of a bunch of people celebrating the fact that I turned another year older just seems...weird. I don't really get it. What's the point? Why should we bother?

I guess it makes sense if you look at it from this perspective: On some particular day, such and such years ago, God gave life to me. And as He creates things that are good and doesn't make mistakes, it's a day to remember that way back when, one cold Tuesday Night (if you're playing along at home and already know how old I presently am...which should be obvious if you've been reading this blog...that narrows it down to only 39 possible dates), God made something wonderful and beautiful, and we are thankful for that just as we are thankful for the opportunity to witness a sunset or appreciate the intricate beauty in a hummingbird's wings or any other miracle of God's creation.

I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14). I am. So why have I spent so many years unwilling to celebrate that fact?

Probably because I've spent much of my life either struggling to believe that verse or downright disbelieving it altogether.

At the age of nineteen, I remember consciously thinking to myself, "I am the ugliest person on the planet." No joke. No over-exaggeration. I thought I was the most unattractive person alive. I had plenty of "proof" to back it up: the times those well-intentioned people had pointed out that I wasn't wearing the right clothes, or the times someone pointed out I didn't have rock hard abs, and of course the many girls I had had crushes on over the years who didn't reciprocate the feelings. I had gone through middle school and high school and barely glimpsed the dating scene, and by barely I mean that I held hands with a girl twice over those 7 years. That's it. I was so convinced that there was something wrong with me, and that no girl would ever like me as anything more than a friend.

Something wrong with me...but God doesn't make mistakes, so something's wrong right there. I looked at the world around me, I looked at the circumstances of my life, the events and the criticisms and "advice" and all the good things that seemed to happen to others but not to me, and I listened to the voice that was easier to listen to. The voice that said to me, you're not good enough, you're not attractive enough, you're not worth it, and countless other degrading lies. Because to believe the truth, the comforting whispers of God trying to let me know that I am good enough, I am attractive enough, I am worth it, in the midst of all that the world had to say just seemed beyond my ability. It was too hard. I couldn't believe it.

And so I stopped allowing people to celebrate my birthday with me, because I didn't feel worthy of such recognition...and to some extent, I still don't, because it's become such a foreign concept to me, the thought that it doesn't need to be a prideful experience, allowing others to celebrate for you, but that it can be a humbling, growing, wonderful time.

It's been a long and difficult journey to overcome the lies of my youth, but I know I've come a long way. Whereas I used to think I was ugly, I now can look at myself in the mirror and stand amazed at the attractive face I see with the mysterious light blue eyes above the subtle smile. Whereas I used to think no girl could ever like me beyond friendship, still no girl has (I'm sorry if you were expecting a "God blessed me with the most incredible girl ever" happy ending), but that actually makes me happy, because the only girl I want to like me is the girl I'm going to marry someday; I don't know yet who she is or when God will bring us together, but I know she's out there somewhere, waiting for me just as I am waiting for her.

I still listen to lies, I'm sad to say. For example, the other day I wrote in my "Who I am" post that I am still a coward. Because a part of me still struggles to let that lie go, still looks at the circumstances of my life, sees the people I don't talk to, the situations I avoid, the conversational questions I fail to ask, and thinks that I must still be a coward. But the truth is, I'm not a coward. God doesn't make cowards. He made a courageous man who unfortunately sometimes lets his fears dictate his actions.

I am courageous. I am a risk taker. I traveled across the country one summer to work at a place I'd never been to with people I'd never met. I climbed a mountain with a video camera when I didn't think I had it in me to do the job that was expected of me. I drove across three states to tell a girl I liked her even though I knew she didn't like me back, because I knew it was a risk I had to take, a challenge I had to tackle, a fear I had to overcome (that said, even though it was something I, personally, needed to do to grow and I'm glad I did for all it taught me, it's not an action I would recommend anybody take. Seriously). To look back over my life and call myself a coward? What a lie.

Thank you, God, that I'm still learning.

And in case you really wanted to know, I was born on March 2nd, 1982.

Why I'm Quiet #3: Conflict, and why my sister is amazing.

"ihi" - pronounced "ee-hee!" with the exclamation at the end. Typed because I needed some random letters on screen to set the proper font size. Left here because I felt it was much better than the "ffgkljhlkg" I usually end up with.

So....Where to begin this one? How about in the future!

In exactly less than a month, my one and only sister will be getting married! Which is super awesome for her but will likely suck a bit for me because as soon as she's officially tied the knot, everyone I know will most likely, at some point or another, in some form or fashion, say to me, "now it's your turn." The unfortunate fate of the younger sibling, to be reminded by your loved ones that you're still single and not getting any younger.

Wow, that sounds really bitter. Haha, no, I'm in no hurry to get married (though if all my friends marry off first and leave me roommate-less, I might feel more inclination to hurry then). But I'm not really looking forward to the "your turn" comments, because the way I look at it, I'm not the one in control here. God knows who I should marry and when she and I will be ready to be together, so there isn't much I can do to hurry that along, except trust God and live for Him in the here and now...which still doesn't actually guarantee I'm not supposed to be single forever...darn it, this post is not supposed to be about me, nor about marriage and singleness. How did I get off on this tangent?

Okay. Let's leave the future and return to wherever this post was meant to go...

If either of the two of us deserves to receive the gift and blessing of a spouse and the incredible joys of marriage, it's my sister, Sara. She doesn't hear it from me nearly often enough, but I think she is an amazing person. She has a deep love for God, a servant's heart, a passion for life, and inspiring faithfulness. And unlike me, she was born to sing; it may not be the talent that's providing for her at the moment, but it's definitely one of her greatest gifts, which she has used so much over the years to bless so many people (though I have to admit, I looked forward to her leaving for college back in the day because it meant no more singing in the shower while I was trying to watch TV).

My sister and I are kind of polar opposites in a lot of ways, actually. She sings, I don't. She's talkative and a people person, I'm quiet and shy. She is a fan of just about any food in existence, and I stick to a handful of basic meals most days...she can also cook really well, and I can't....And one of the biggest differences I've come to realize over the last few years: she is one of the bravest people I know, and I grew up avoiding conflict.

This is going to make me look terrible, but here goes...

My sister is not one to shy away or back down when faced with a challenge. I can think of a lot of examples here, but the one that stands out most in my memory has to do with the school bus and snow. We grew up in Michigan, and when we were younger, we got some pretty sweet snowfalls in the winters up there. But seeing as it's Michigan, school rarely closed. When we reached middle school, we had to start riding a bus since school was no longer just a block away. Every morning, we would walk to our old elementary school to wait for our bus to come pick us up, and when it got cold in the winter, they would open the school doors to let us wait inside where it was warm.

Unfortunately, there was this one kid in my sister's grade who was not a fan of my sister. To him, she was the easiest target to pick on and make fun of as a way of seeking attention or trying to be popular or play the part of the rebel or whatever the motivation was. And on those cold winter days, he would sometimes let the doors close and lock again before she and I arrived, locking us both outside in the cold. Sara, knowing full well she had just as much right as anyone to wait inside with everyone else, would bravely stand there at the doors and knock until one of the other kids finally let her in....But where was I for all of this? I was 30 feet away, pacing around the edges of a sandbox in the snow, avoiding the whole battle.

I was more willing to walk around in the snow and the cold air and wait for the bus by myself than to stand there beside my sister and knock as well. I left her on her own and ran from the conflict, from the laughter, from the embarrassment of being the one locked out. And it happened more than once.

It wasn't the only time I wasn't brave enough to stand up for my sister, I'm ashamed to say. Sara faced her fair share of social challenges growing up, and she met them head on with such determination to overcome them and experience that freedom to be herself no matter what others thought. I went the opposite direction. I watched her face ridicule, and instead of learning from her example and standing up for myself when the jokes came my way, I learned to fear the laughter, and so I did everything I could to avoid putting myself in situations where those around me had a chance to have a laugh at my expense. I saw the cost of battling social cruelty, the strength it took to stand true, and when I didn't find it in myself, I turned and ran, because I found it easier to be the weird kid who's strangely quiet than the kid who stands up even in the face of cruelest laughter.

I'm quiet because I'm too afraid to get laughed at. And that's the third reason.

I was no knight in shining armor when my sister needed one, and for that I am sorry. I wish I could go back and tell my twelve year old self, "Dude, I know cold weather isn't that hard to put up with, but seriously, it sucks man, and it's unhealthy. Go get in that building, even if you have to beat that glass on the door until it breaks." True, the school administrators might have seen it as vandalism on my part, no matter what the other kids were doing, but it would have been better than the path I chose.

Sara, if you're reading this (which I'm sure you will be at some point; you're the only person who tells me regularly what you think of my posts), I want you to know I'm sorry I wasn't the princely brother you deserved growing up. I think you grew up to be an incredible, talented, and brave woman, and I am proud to call you my sister. I love you very much and I can't wait to watch you walk down that aisle in a few weeks (though I have to admit, as your photographer, I may spend part of that time sprinting down the side aisle in order to capture the moment from as many angles as possible...so please, if you would, walk slowly :)  ).

Why I'm Quiet #2B: Who am I?

Yep, #2B. Because I just finished writing and posting #2. So if you haven't read it yet, now would be an excellent time to do so!

I wanted to end the post by writing out who I feel like I am right now, but it was already pretty long, so I decided to make this a separate post as a way of making you, the reader, think you're reading two posts instead of one super long one (mwahaha).

So who am I? Who do I think I am? Who do I feel like I am? Well, here's what I've got, just off the top of my head. And I'm sure some things in here I'll be happy to write, some things I'll be sad to admit, some things I'll probably struggle to actually believe, and some I'll hope to not see here by the next time I write out a list like this again one day. I figure one of the best ways to really be able to look back one day and see how far God has brought me would be to write out, from time to time, just where I am or where I think I am, so that some day I can read this and think, "Whoa! What in the blue blazin' saddles of Mad Cow disease sniffing googolplexes was I thinking back then???" And yes, I hope to talk like that on a regular basis by then...

Who I am (as far as I can tell so far):

1. My name is Seth Thomas Helpap.

2. I'm 26 years old, 5'10", brown hair, grayish blue eyes, and this is starting to sound like I'm writing a personal ad...

3. I grew up in Michigan, which, contrary to the belief of many Ohians, is not actually Hell.

4. I'm an Asbury College Graduate, with a degree in Media Communications, double emphasis in Production and Multimedia Production (neither of which interest me much...).

5. I live in Los Angeles, a city I've come to love more than I could have ever guessed I would prior to living here. It feels like home.

6. I spent a year living in Atlanta once. It didn't feel like home. I heart L.A.

7. I am one of the most eclectic people I know when it comes to music. I can listen to just about anything, even a few country songs (though music with obscene lyrics is a huge turn off).

8. I'm a Disney fan. Even though my roommates respect me less for it.

9. I'm also a fan of Michael W. Smith music. Which my roommates also despise. Oh yeah, and Yanni's Live at the Acropolis. Good stuff.

10. I'm kind of a picky eater. I like simple flavors. Though I do continue to try new things every now and then to expand my horizons.

11. I refuse to drink coffee because A: I don't want to be a caffeine addict, 2: I don't want to spend my savings at Starbucks, and D: I don't like the taste anyway. Double points if you guessed "Home Alone" as the source for that awesome sub-numbering system I used there.

12. I enjoy reading children's books more than adult novels.

13. If they made those huge plastic playgrounds you see in yards these days for adults, I'd totally have one.

14. I still dream about building the perfect tree house someday.

15. I am a Jack of all Trades. I pick new things up fairly quickly to an extent, but rarely do I stick with things long enough to become really good at them.

16. Contrary to #15 up there, I have found in myself this passion for visual effects that has surpassed any passions I've held in the past, in that I've been at it for over a year now, working in it nearly every day, and I continue to desire to learn more. I have no inclination of giving it up any time soon because it's just so fun!

18. I still hope to learn to count right one of these days (see: above).

19. That was a joke. I know 17 should be there.

The real 19: I've written two novels and a memoir to date, and I can't bring myself to read either of them anymore. They're that bad. But I want to be a writer some day, just not now. Which is why I don't mind one bit that the novel I've been planning for the last 4 years is still just in the planning stages. I'll write it when it's ready.

20. I am a biking and jogging enthusiast, though I don't do either as much as I would like.

21. I am a good conversationalist who just lacks confidence when conversing with people I don't know very well (you were starting to wonder if this list was ever going to get serious, weren't you?)

22. I have been blessed with certain gifts and talents, even though I may not always recognize them or thank God enough for them or wish I had been given others. God gave me the ones I have for a reason, so I want to focus my time and energy on those, not the other stuff.

23. I really like to sing, even though I don't have the courage to even sing for myself...and this is the first one of the list to really strike a noticeable cord in my heart...I need to get over that fear.

24. I am a drummer who needs to work up the courage to ask his church if they need any more drummers for the worship team.

25. I am a romantic, but thankfully no longer a romantic idealist.

26. My age!

27. The age I was kind of hoping to get married at....see part #2 for more details if you skipped it :)

28. I am a man who desires to desire God more.

29. I am a man who longs to love God more than he will his future wife.

30. I am a man who is willing to be single my entire life if it's what God wants, though I really hope it isn't.

31. I am a man who can now admit it is possible to think I've heard something from God, only to learn later that I was wrong.

32. I am blessed with friends I don't deserve, friends I push away, friends who chase me when I run.

33. I feel unworthy of the grace I've been given, the seconds chances I've been blessed with.

34. I am more impatient than I let on.

35. I hold too much in. I hide too much away.

36. I am still a coward.

37. I don't feel as free as I am.

38. I still listen to lies.

39. I still lack confidence.

40. I am very thankful for how much God reminds me He is continuing what He is doing in me, and when I stumble and fall, He doesn't just leave me there but helps me to get back up and keep moving forward.

41. I am a child of God.

42. I know that the confidence I lack, the courage I don't feel, are found in God, and I am striving to deepen my relationship with Him to find freedom from my fears.

43. I fear judgment everywhere. I worry about what people think too much, from the things I say to the clothes I wear, the movies I watch to the music I listen to, the books I read to the way I pray. I hold back because I don't know how those around me will react.

44. I may struggle to remember it, but I know the battle is already won!

45. I love chocolate and vanilla ice cream scooped into a cone together.

46. I look forward to having both a dog and kids some day, though other people's  kids make me uncomfortable, and I don't have the time to take care of a dog right now (silly commute).

47. I long to travel the world some day.

48. I look terrible in just about any hat.

49. I am more attractive than I believe some days.

50. I am changing.

Ok, that's enough for now. I'm sure I could go on, but I'd say 50 is a good start.

Why I'm Quiet #2: Identity Theft

Welcome to second installment of the Why I'm Quiet series!

Let me put your worries to rest right away: this post has nothing whatsoever to do with freecreditreport.com or their awful commercials (the one in the seafood restaurant was alright, but seriously, know when to quit, people...that goes for you, too, Geico).

I'm 26 years old. When I was 20 years old, I remember telling a friend that I hoped to get married around the age of 27. So I've got a year left, then. Can it still happen? Sure. Does it look like it will? Not really. Am I being pessimistic? Nah. Because the more I dig deeper into my relationship with God, and the more I reflect on my life and who I am, the more I realize how unready I am for marriage....man, that sounds pessimistic too...let me explain:

I don't know who I am. Honestly. If you were to ask me to tell you who I am, I wouldn't know what to say? Yes, I could tell you things about myself--I'm 26 years old, I'm a Christian, I live in Los Angeles and work in Orange County, I like to hike, my favorite color is green, and I could eat Oreo cookies till they killed me--but none of that is really who I am. Those are just details, and details can change. A little over a year ago, I lived in Atlanta, and before that, Michigan. Last year I was 25, next year I'll be 27. I heart Oreos but I never buy them anymore because they're just not healthy in large quantities (they're like potato chips; I can't eat just one).

Then what makes me me? My personality? Gosh, I hope not. When I think about my personality, I kind of feel like the lawyer from the movie Rat Race, Harold Grisham, who was described as being "tragically born without a personality." I don't express a lot of emotion. There are reasons and slowly God is helping me to let go of them (something I need to write about one of these days), but whether I'm happy or sad, joyful or angry, in a good mood or bad, it's pretty difficult to tell just my looking at me. And yes, I wish this wasn't the case. But anyways...

When I think back over my life, I can recall countless times, especially from high school on, when I would look to my friends for answers to the questions, "who am I?" "what should I be like?" "how should I act?" I think by the time I got tired of my friends wondering why I was quiet, I felt like I didn't know how to act around them anymore. I didn't know what was cool or uncool, what would earn their approval and what would get me laughed at (which was one of the biggest reasons I went quiet in the first place). So I would watch my friends, study their behaviors, the jokes they made, the way they talked, and I would try to sort of impersonate them, but not so much that anyone could tell. I tried to be like them because I figured it was safer than being me...of course it was, because I didn't know who I was, and if I tried to be just me, who knew how people might react?

As I've said before, I struggle with the irrational fear of being judged. And it led me to the point where I felt more comfortable trying to be other people than just being myself...which might explain a bit why I have very little trouble getting up on stage in front of huge crowds and acting; I could get up in front of people and deliver a monologue without a problem, but ask me to stand up and deliver a speech and I'll close up like a farm house preparing for a storm.

I'm not sure what eventually woke me up to the realization that trying to be like everyone else wasn't a solution to finding my personality--maybe I just got tired of trying, or maybe I just began to see that they were all someone I couldn't be and maybe that's okay--but somewhere along the way I decided to stop imitating life and start living it myself...and I wish I could say it's gone well so far, but in all honesty, it's really just going very slowly.

I'm 26 years old, and I don't really know who I am, because I've been so careful not to let the world see the real me that I've lost sight of the real me, myself. I've spent so much time looking to the world to define me that when I finally realized it can't and I look at myself to see who I really am, I find nothing. Just a mostly blank canvas with a few flecks of paint scattered about.

Who am I?

Moses asked that question once back in Exodus 3. Granted, there was more to the question and the context is totally different than the one I'm in, but it's all I can think of right now, so we'll go with it. God was talking to Moses through that burning bush, telling Moses about all the crazy stuff he was about to be sent off to do, and Moses replied, "Who am I...?"

Moses was an 80 year old man who ran away from home when he was 40 and spent all those years since as a shepherd, probably feeling about himself the way I sometimes feel, like you've just screwed up so much in trying to do things your own way in your own time that running away from the problems is just the best solution. Only he took it to a level I thankfully never have: he ran off and spent 40 years hiding with sheep. And then God showed up.

Not to say He wasn't always there all along. But God speaking to me through a burning bush would, in my opinion, be something I would describe to people as "God showing up."

God interrupted Moses' decades of sulking and told him who he had been created to be: the guy meant to lead Israel to freedom. And Moses' response? "Who am I...?" He didn't know. He felt like a no body. He'd messed up, he'd found a safe place to hide where he wasn't hurting anyone anymore, and that was probably fine by him...mostly. But see, I don't believe any of us can be truly happy hiding. If so, I think Moses would have heard God's request and just said, "no thanks, I'm good," then put his sandals back on and walked away. But he didn't, and I haven't either. I've tried. Believe me, I've tried to just say, "I give up. This is stupid. It's too hard, it doesn't make any sense, I don't understand what you're up to, God, or where you're leading me or why you're doing all this. Life was easier when I wasn't trying. Can't I just go back to that?" But before I can walk away, I always find this desire in my heart to keep my focus on God, because I think like Moses, I know that this hiding isn't where I was created to be. It might be easier, but dude, it is boring. And sheep are no fun to talk to, really.

God knew who Moses was, who He had created him to be, and it was through God that Moses came to learn who he really was. Not some failed Hebrew/Egyptian prince turned sheep herder, but a man so perfectly prepared and placed to free the nation of Israel from captivity. Which gets into a whole other side of things: waiting = good(usually). But yeah, some other time.

And that's what I want. No, not to spend 40 years in the desert herding animals while waiting around for a bush to catch fire and talk to me (I'd probably just start setting bushes on fire around year 20 out of sheer boredom, hoping each time something different would happen; "maybe this time it won't burn up!"). I want God  to be the one to tell me who I am. I want to find myself in Him, not in the world. Because this world can be cruel and dishonest and judgmental and it can even be out to keep me from being who I'm supposed to be, who God created me to be. God made me, which means no body knows me better than He does. He knows me, He knows why He made me and what it is He would like me to do, and that's what I want: I want what He wants for my life.

And I wish He'd just tell me right now so I can go get ready for it. Because like many people, I like to know ahead of time what's going to happen so I can make preparations, make sure all the details are worked out and everything is ready. But God, I'm learning, doesn't work like that. He's all for making us wait, having us sit tight and just wait for the next little nugget of insight to come along. Why? Because if He told us everything in advance, then we'd just be like, "Thanks, God, I've got it from here." And we'd go off on our own without any further need of Him, accomplish everything we were meant to, and take all the credit ourselves. Which isn't cool. Think about a child who, after growing up in a loving home, moves away, makes a successful life for himself, and never looks back to thank those who taught him along the way, who helped him to get to where he is today. He never calls home, never writes, never visits on the holidays, never credits his parents for all they taught him growing up. He just looks at his success and thinks, "Look what I've accomplished."

So I don't really know who I am, and that's the second reason I'm quiet. But I'm looking to God to help me discover who it is He's created me to be, and I really look forward to what He's got to teach me. I'm sure it's going to be tough to learn at times, but I don't really care, because the more difficult it is, the more worth it it must be.

Poem for a friend I wish I didn't have.

I have a friend who makes no sound, a friend you cannot see,

A friend no body wants around: my friend, monotony.

Monotony, you visit me just when I need you least,

You bore me with such details, a repetition feast.

The same things over and over and over and over and over again*.

It's too easy to joke about your driving me insane.

It's true, you're necessary for my job to be done well,

The great things you and I achieve, there are no words to tell.

Patience, persistence, both pay off when your time here is through.

Still...while you're near, I often feel I'd rather eat my shoe....

-an original poem inspired by my job :)

*pronounced like "gain" or it doesn't work...I know, it's a bit of a stretch.

"Two roads diverged in a wood," or "Why I suck at making decisions."

I'm not a huge fan of movies that don't end on a really happy note (ask me later why I hated "The Departed"), but sad though its ending was, "The Dead Poets Society" is one of my favorite movies. I'd explain why, but I'm trying to get into the habit of keeping my entries moderately short, so you'll just have to assume I have awesome taste in movies (my roommates are shaking their heads right now at those words, I'm sure...)

Amidst the many great poems quoted throughout the movie, the one that stood out to me most the first time I watched the film was a quote from the Robert Frost poem, "The Road Not Taken."

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Beautiful words. Words that have rung in my ears over the years as I've hiked the hills of northern Michigan and the mountains of northern California.  And they've been just as inspiring in the figurative sense, encouraging me to take chances and risks in life decisions, to explore new opportunities I've never experienced before.

But, see, there's one little problem I have when it comes to my ability to take the road less traveled: I want to take both roads! I want to know where both roads lead. I want to know why people seem to prefer one over the other. I want to know what's around each of those next bends. Which is why I am horrible at making decisions.

Growing up, I would spend every second I could squeeze out of my parents standing before the LEGO shelves at a toy store, trying to decide which set to spend my hard earned cash on. When I pull up at a drive through, I sometimes panic when that speaker voice is actually prompt and ready to take my order the moment I pull up. And it's worse with the life decisions that actually matter (if I order a cheese burger, then decide as I'm eating it that I was actually in the mood for chicken nuggets, that's not too tough to get over).

A little over two years ago, the opportunity arose for me to move to Atlanta. It kind of snuck up on me and caught me off guard, as I had fully expected to spend a third year living at home after I graduated from college. I had no money to move, I had peace at last at the thought of another year at home (those first two years, I would have given just about anything to be somewhere else...but that's another story for another entry), and so the idea of moving to Atlanta in less than a week caught me rather by surprise, and it took three days full of prayer, long hikes, and a couple of podcasted sermons to convince myself that it was a risk worth taking.

I'm not saying that's bad. I think I'd be more concerned with my decision making process if I made choices like that without those days to pray and process things, because not thinking things through can lead to some disastrous consequences. But there are definitely times when I know I take too long to make a decision because I want to know ahead of time what each possibility holds.

The worst is when I find myself faced with a choice and I can't figure out which possibility is "God's will for my life." I put that in quotes, because it's a question any Christian attempting to grow in their walk with God will probably ask plenty. "What is God's will for my life/for this situation?"

"God, should I move to this other city, or would you rather I stay where I am right now?"

"God, should I take this job, because it's the only offer I have right now, or do you want me to work somewhere else and if I'll just have the faith to wait a bit longer, you'll bring it along soon after I turn the other company down?"

"God, should I buy a house or rent an apartment? And in which neighborhood?"

"God, is this the church you'd like me to get involved in? Or should I keep searching for a better church?"

"God, is this the person you want me to pursue toward marriage? Or should I just keep it at friendship because you've got someone better for the both of us, and pursuing this person would just screw up a perfectly good friendship?"

"God, should I order Chinese food or go with leftovers for dinner?"

Tough questions (most of them). And there are plenty more just like them. How do you know which is the direction God wants you to go and which is a quick bullet train to Heck? (over-exaggeration? what? what was that? what about grace? who's she?)

I have to admit, I'm no expert at figuring out the will of God for my own life. It's tough (though I do sometimes think maybe I make it tougher than it's supposed to be). But then if it were easy, what would we really learn from it?

I wish I had more answers to give or suggestions to make, but I'm still learning myself. But here are two things I do take into consideration when I find myself faced with a tough choice and a desire to do God's will: which direction looks easier, and which one do I feel more peace about? Whichever path looks easiest, chances are it's not the road I should take. Following God is rarely an easy road to travel, so if one path looks like smooth sailing, really question whether it's the one you should take. And consider which direction you feel more peace about pursuing. I find this one to be tougher to discern, because there are definitely times God calls us just to step out in faith without much instruction, and it's hard to feel peace during those times, but our God is the God of Peace. He isn't going to fill you with worries as you seek to follow Him; He's going to give you the peace to overcome those worries and the strength and the courage to trust in Him and follow wherever it is He is leading, no matter how difficult the road may appear. Think about Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednego; they found themselves faced with the decision to either worship a statue or die in a blazing furnace. It's pretty easy to figure out which choice would be the easy, sensible thing to do; I mean, who really wants to be thrown into a furnace alive? But would that be the wise thing to do, the right thing, the thing God calls us to do? Hecks no. So what do they do? They choose the furnace. And while they might have been sweating bullets well before they were led anywhere near that inferno for all I know, if they were their words don't give it away. Here is their response:

"If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up" (Dan. 3:16-18).

They knew God could rescue them from that furnace and bring them out alive, but they even admit they don't actually know if He will! "But even if he does not..." They chose the road no one else was traveling, and they did it with confidence, even though they knew death was still a possibility.

I wish I always felt that kind of peace when I'm following God. I've definitely felt peace, but I'll admit there are definitely anxieties and unanswered questions playing in my head, nagging at me to give them attention and start worrying instead of trusting that God has it under control. It's not easy, but then no one ever said life would be. And I'm glad, because it's been my experience that when things are easy, when I do take that road more often traveled, I don't learn as much, the adventure doesn't feel as real, and I usually end up going back to that fork in the road in the end and taking the other path anyway.