A Sudden Random Thought #3

It amuses me the way that the scientific community (not the whole, but at least in part) seems to put so little faith in the intelligence, creativity, and ability of the human race. Take, for example, the pyramids in Egypt: so mathematically accurate, some wonder how we, with such limited technology, could have achieved such a feat, even to the extent that there is speculation that aliens might have dropped by our planet and lent us a helping hand.

Which makes me wonder, then...if the world somehow goes another five thousand years before Christ's return, will the historians and scientists of that day look back at the 20th century and speculate, "Humanity at that time could not have made such vast technological leaps in such a short period time on their own. Some form of higher intelligence must have offered assistance"? I mean, it's pretty clearly documented that aliens definitely landed at Roswell in the '50s, so who's to say they weren't just a team sent to check up on us to see how we were handling all this new information that was allowing us to now drive vehicles without horses, fly like birds, illuminate the darkness without fire, and speak instantaneously with people who are hundreds of miles away. All that in just a few years. Yep, we must have had help. And surely it couldn't be from the God who created creativity, thought, and the imagination. It must have been aliens...

Wow, that just made me realize something interesting...I find it easier to believe in God than the concept of aliens. Especially when viewed through an evolutionary lens. If everything that exists was the result of sheer chance and constant changing and adaptation, I gotta believe that it would take far longer than the estimated age of the universe (not quite 14 billion years old) to achieve life as we now know it when starting from scratch, let alone that, also by chance, some other race of beings in another part of the universe fell into place far faster than we did, evolved quicker, learned faster, all without help because all this intelligence has to begin somewhere by chance, and somehow figured out how to travel so quickly that they could get all the way to us and leave again without our really noticing....I mean, seriously, how much faith does it take to believe all that could be the case?

Why I'm Quiet #1: Seeking Perfection

Real quick: The series has already begun. This is actually the second installment. If you'd like to read the first piece, click here.

Seeking Perfection: An impatiently patient man.

I drive a long ways to get to work each day. And the traffic is not fun. I live in Los Angeles and drive every morning down to Irvine in Orange County. My roommate reminded me again today that he knows no one else who would have the patience to drive 92 miles of L.A. traffic every day. I told him I don't really notice it. And it's true. The miles pass pretty quickly, and it kind of amazes me when I realize I spend 2 hours a day (or more) in my truck. It doesn't feel like it...most days; there are a few exceptions.

I've been told more than once by different people in varying circumstances that I am a very patient person. And it always surprises me, because I know me and I am not that patient. Maybe I've just learned to hide it over the years like most of the rest of my emotions. I'd like to think I'm learning to be patience, because Heaven knows God has been teaching me lessons in patience for years now; it might have been the very first thing I could feel Him teaching me when my relationship with Him began 4 years ago. But though I may well be learning, there are still so many areas of my life in which I feel so impatient at times. And it is one of the hardest things for me to accept in life, that I just have to wait for things and let them come in God's timing, not my own.

For as long as I can remember, I have wished I was a prodigy at something. It doesn't really matter at what, so long as it was something I enjoyed. Piano, violin, martial arts, video games, anything. I wanted to be good at something, anything, and I wanted to just be good at it from the beginning. Maybe that's why I'm not really that good at anything. No, I'm not trying to talk negatively about myself; I'll admit, I have talents and I can do some things pretty well. But I'm no master of anything, because I've spent my life trying everything. It's been like one long search for that thing that defines me, the thing people will admire me for, because I'm just good at it, and I do it with such passion it inspires others to seek out their own gifts and talents, to pursue their own dreams and be the people they didn't think they possibly could be. But 26 years of life later, I find myself a jack of all trades, who can play the drums pretty well and the piano just a little, who can act with some believability and keep his balance fairly well on roller blades, who has written a couple of books but never published anything more than a poem on a free poetry hosting website,who can draw okay if he has something to copy from but has real trouble when trying to draw from memory, and who is now learning the art of visual effects and motion graphics.

It began, I guess, when I was maybe eight years old, I think. I watched the movie, The Wizard, which is about this quiet little kid who is a prodigy at video games, and for some reason, I wanted to be like him. I sometimes think that's the biggest reason I turned out so quiet: one of my first idols was an unhealthily quiet little kid who everybody loved...everyone loved him, so maybe if I was like him, everyone would love me...somewhere in there has got to be at least a little bit of the reason why I am the way I am. But it's not what this post is about.

This post is about perfection. About being great at something. About not failing....Maybe that's why I longed to be a prodigy, so that I would never have to worry about failing at the thing I love to do.

I fear failure so much it amazes me. And I think it amazes me most because I hardly realize that fear is there. There are so many other fears that stand out so obviously in my life, but this fear of failure was a tough one to discover. It's one of many products of my deepest fear--being judged--but that one's going to have to wait a little while before I write about it. I fear failing because I fear that if I fail, I will be judged not good, or not good enough, or unworthy of whatever it is I was trying to accomplish. I don't know why I do, exactly. But part of me blames elementary school.

When I was growing up, I got all A's in most of my classes. If I got an A- I felt like I could have done better. If I got a B, I felt like I had either done horribly or that it had just been in something I hadn't grasped well enough yet. I never got C's or D's, to my knowledge (except maybe in handwriting, which I'm sad to say never got much better over the years). My parents seemed happy when I got A's. They were proud of me. And it made me happy. Then middle school came along; the classes got harder, I began taking these advanced math and science classes because I thought I wanted to be an architect, and my grades began to slip a bit. And by a bit I mean they went from A's and A-'s down to A-'s and B's. I know, oh WOW! That's terrible!  Well, it was to me. I wasn't doing as good. My parents didn't seem unhappy at all, but I didn't like it. I had to be perfect. I had to get all A's. I couldn't be mediocre. I couldn't be less than the best. I already knew I wasn't that great at sports, so my school work was all I had. So I had to be the best.

But I couldn't be. I tried hard, but after 6th grade, I rarely got all A's. I was taking classes I honestly didn't like (so many years of math and science; seems like such a waste now for someone who went into the arts), and it was so difficult finding the motivation to study when I didn't care enough about learning what these classes had to offer. I fell behind, I drifted from being a kid who sat in the front of every class and answered questions to one who sat in the back and hoped so hard that the teacher would not call on me. And it eventually got to the point that if called upon to answer a question for which I either had no answer or wasn't sure that the answer I had was right, I wouldn't even say, "I don't know;" I couldn't bring myself to admit it. I would sit silently, staring at my homework, looking confused, and at most, I would look up and shrug and sometimes shake my head to admit that I had no answer.

If I am not sure that the thing you are asking me to do is something I will be able to do well and right, I won't do it. Because I can't fail. I have to succeed. I have to get it right. I have to be able to perform perfectly so that you will be amazed and wowed and will be inspired to reach your own dreams as I clearly have mine. Even if in something simple....It amazes me I ever learned to play racquetball well, now that I think about it, because when I first tried, I sucked. But then it was too much fun to give up...I'm guessing there's a lesson to be learned there...

I cannot sing in public, unless it's in a crowd of many voices drowning mine out. I can't talk in front of groups of people because I don't want you judging me, and if I'm the one up in front doing the talking, I'm the only one in the room you'd be judging at the moment. I greatly resist trying new things in front of people because I know I won't be able to get it right the first time (a lesson I've come to realize in my years of seeking that one thing I'm just instantly good at: I'm not instantly good at anything); a good example: it took my roommate a long time to convince me to try the game Guitar Hero...which is just a silly video game for which there is no reason at all I should need to do it well, either right away or with practice, because who really cares?

I struggle with practice disciplines because I just want to be good at things right away. I struggle to perform for others because I'm still learning and might make mistakes. So I hold back.

I'm quiet because I'm afraid that if I try, I will fail and you will judge me as something unworthy of something else. That's one reason.

Sorry it was so long. But I feel that this stuff needs to come out. So forgive me if I'm a bit wordy with some of these reasons. And I know this was awfully serious. But I won't be writing one of these updates every day, so I'll try and keep the in between ones more lighthearted and funny.

And yes, I realize the big underlying theme here is that fear of being judged. I have a feeling every reason I write about here will come back to that, and when I tackle that topic itself, it's going to be...interesting.

I read recently somewhere something about judgement that I wish I could remember. It described a man getting beyond the worries of what others think of him and only focusing on what God thinks of him. I want to get there. That's the kind of freedom I dream and pray about. I wish I was there now (because I'm impatient :-)   ), but I know God is helping me to grow. This post, to me, is proof; most of this is stuff I wouldn't have admitted to anyone a few years ago. So if I've come this far, who knows how far he'll take me tomorrow.

Why I'm Quiet: The Truth Is About To Begin...

I don't know why I'm starting here. I had planned on writing about another reason why I am the way I am, but I just felt inspired tonight to write on this topic, which, to be honest, hadn't crossed my mind as I've thought about beginning this series. So I might as well get it posted before it drifts out of thought again.

Real quick, though, I'd like to describe a bit about why I'm writing this series and what it'll be about.

I don't know a single person in this world who wouldn't tell you I'm quiet, except maybe my sister (update: my cousin, Megan, probably wouldn't say I'm quiet either). It is what I am known for, more than anything else. It is the first thing people come to realize as they get to know me, and it is that impression that takes the longest to break through to the truth of who I really am.

I am not, by nature, a quiet person. At least, I don't think I am, because I know the real me. I'm there when no one else is around. I listen to myself as I think out loud and as I sing with all the skill my untrained pipes can muster while driving the long drive to work. When the rest of the world is cut off from hearing distance of me, my voice breaks free like a leak in the Hoover Dam. And not just my voice. I have many voices to choose from. High ones and low ones, growly ones and a few that sound like chipmunks. I don't know where they come from, but I like them. And maybe it is for that reason I never let anyone hear them...more on that some other time....

It is a curious thing that I don't often talk around people. I sometimes think this is just who I am, a quiet, thoughtful guy who enjoys observing the world more than directly interacting it, perhaps as a way of improving my writing and storytelling skills. Listening, hearing the voices of everyone around me, their tones and inflections, their emotions, their motives. Maybe if I listen hard enough I'll one day be able to give the characters in my stories voices that people will believe in. But then really, how can I give someone else a voice when I won't even use mine as practice?

No, I know I'm not meant to be quiet. Because I don't like being quiet. I honestly hate it. And for years now I've been trying to figure out why I am and how to fix it. You may think it'd be easy. All I need to do is open my mouth and let something come out. Well, I've had plenty of opportunities over the years to learn to overcome my fears, and while I have improved a little, I still feel so far from where I long to be. And where is that? Somewhere where the fear was unable to follow me. Someplace where the only one whose opinion matters to me anymore is God's.

What am I afraid of? Well, hopefully this series will help both me and you understand that a little bit better, and God-willing, maybe this will help me in some way to grow a little or a lot more. Who knows, maybe He'll even use this to help me find my voice. I can only hope, because I am so tired of being asked, "Why are you so quiet?"

A Sudden Random Thought #2

I had an update in my mind all ready to write out...until I opened my Bible last night, found the verse that had inspired me, and realized I'd read it slightly wrong and the whole meaning changed for me. So that idea flew out the window pretty quick. Which is cool, because a few days ago, I felt inspired to begin a series of posts entitled: "Why I'm quiet." It will be a series answering that very question which I have been asked so many times over the last decade: "Why are you so quiet?" It's a question I have asked myself many times, one which I have prayed a lot about and reflected on much, but have struggled to find any kind of definitive answer. There are a number of reasons, I think, that I've stumbled upon over the years, and I think it's time I collected them in one place, and also gave everyone who has ever wondered this the chance to better understand why I am the way I am. Is this my way of justifying who I am and refusing to change? Not at all. In fact, I hope this exercise helps me to continue to grow even more as a person and into the kind of man God wants me to be.

But it will have to wait until I have more time to write (so sometime this weekend, hopefully). Until then, another quick random thought while I wrap up work here on this beautiful Friday evening:

I believe the Bible is God's Word, His instruction book to us, if you will. It is inspired by Him, God-breathed, and every word in it has a purpose. And so I have to wonder: why is it that the Bible never once mentions dinosaurs?

I'm probably not the first person to ask this, but really, how do they fit into Biblical History, exactly? Did they come and go all within those first seven days? Did God make them and then realize they posed too great a threat to his next great idea--humans--to keep around? (I don't believe God makes mistakes, so I'm guessing that's not it.) Did they get wiped out by the flood because they were too big for the ark? If a great big meteor crashed into the planet and wiped out the dinos, then how did we survive that and they didn't? Or did that meteor fall somewhere in the first seven days? And if so, did God see that and think, "It is good," as He did the rest of His creation? ("Woo! Fireworks!"...I'm gonna get smote for that one, for sure.) Or do you suppose God just decided to give the more archeologically  curious of us something fun to think about when He made the earth by rushing a few species of animals that pretty much defy logic through the whole natural order process and into fossilization before He got around to making us? All good questions to ask God when I get to Heaven, where I hope to be able to fly :)

My Saved-ness...

While reading through some comments on today's post at Stuff Christians Like, I noticed the phrase, "saved-ness," and it stood out to me for two reasons. 1: It spits in the face of proper grammar in one of my favorite ways, by adding "ness" to the end of a word that shouldn't be "ness-ed"; and 2: It reminded me of one of the lies I sometimes struggle with in my faith. (Speaking of bad grammar, wow, that sentence was about as proper as socks worn with sandals...)

Have you ever wondered, "Am I really saved?" Or how about, "How saved am I, really?" This kind of questioning can come in many different forms, and there are a ton of other lies that can be attached to these or spring up as a result of asking these, but I'll try not to veer off topic too far.

I suddenly feel inspired to write Jeff Foxworthy-type jokes about this...which may or may not be severely inapproptiate...

You know you've questioned your faith:

1: if you've answered an alter call more than once.

2: if you've ever stopped to ask yourself, "What if the Calvinists are right and only some are elect? Am I elect? How am I supposed to know?!"

3: if you've ever felt a desire to try and pay Christ back for rescuing you (hmm. That one wasn't really comic in any way...ah well, I'll fix that with the next one).

4: if you've ever partaken of communion because you missed breakfast and are hungry. (Ok, this one might not be relevant...)

Why is it that when the spiritual adrenaline rush of getting saved wears off, we begin to ask questions about our salvation? We wonder if it really happened, we feel like we short-changed God and need to make up the difference somehow, we question why He feels so far away if He's really supposed to be occupying our hearts now...

I find, in my own life, that these questions surface most when I'm struggling with some sort of sin. Especially the ones that seem to be an on-going struggle over the years and keep popping up from time to time. Shouldn't I have learned this lesson by now? If God really rescued me, then why am I still stuck in this bad habit? Why do I slide back down into the filth of sin? Did my salvation request not go through? Did it get stuck in transit, or lost in the mail? Am I one of the ones God didn't elect, and no matter how hard I try, He has no plans to rescue me?

Tough stuff. All of them lies. How do I know? Because the day (or night, rather, in my case) that God rescued me, He filled my heart and spirit with this feeling of joy that was so real, so much deeper than anything I'd ever experienced in my entire life before then (and this happened when I was 22, even though I technically became a Christian when I was 5 and even did the whole alter call thing when I was 14), I just knew that what I was experiencing was a gift from God that was greater than anything this world has to offer. And though I was not instantly cured of all my bad habits and have, at times, fallen hard on my face into sin, it doesn't mean that salvation didn't take, or that it never really happened in the first place. It just means that I'm human, and the difference now that I'm on the other side of salvation is that when I sin, I hate it terribly and want nothing more than to get back out of it as quick as I can, then learn from my mistakes so I will hopefully not make them again. And no, it's not easy, but then who ever said life was supposed to be easy? Especially if you're a Christian; did you get into this gig thinking it would be smooth sailing from there on out? Yeah...there's yet another lie trying to bring down those who've taken that step of faith towards God.

I forget who wrote it and in what book (might be from the book, "Speechless"), but one of my favorite quotes that encourages me as I struggle with those questions of sin after salvation is this: "God loves me just as I am, but He loves me too much to leave me this way." God loves me so much, He is helping me to get out of my sin, sometimes by allowing me to go my own way, stumble and fall, and get back up because the pain and scars are a much better lesson and reminder of where I've been than if He just instantly fixed me. Take, for example, parents and their teenage children: how is a teenager supposed to learn the value of providing for themselves if their parents buy them everything they want and don't make them go out and get jobs? Yeah, the kinds of jobs available to a 16 year-old might suck, but the feeling you get when you receive that paycheck and realize that this was something you earned, something you worked towards and can now enjoy the benefits is more than worth the struggles of the job. It might not have been fun getting there, but it means much more to you than if you'd just been given it for no reason...

Not to say gifts are bad or that God doesn't sometimes heal people instantly or any of the other seven ways that analogy has holes. But I need to get to work, so hopefully you get the point. God loves us enough to let us make mistakes so we can learn. And the awesome result of that process? It draws us nearer to Him as it teaches us dependancy on Him. Which is an awesome thing.

A Sudden Random Thought #1

While I think about stuff I'd like to write here every day, I don't always have the time to sit down and write a new entry. But I don't want days to go by with no updates, so I thought I'd try something just for fun to fill time between my deeper, funnier, harder, better, faster, stronger...whoops, slipped into a little Daft Punk there...posts.

So I bring you, my many readers (*cough, my sister...):

A Sudden Random Thought:

Pepsi and Coke are always going at it with their many varieties (diet, caffeine free, cherry, lime, clear, etc.), but I think this time, Pepsi has come up short. Not on taste, but in quality of health. Case in point: Coke Zero, Pepsi One.

My question: why was Coke able to get every last calorie out of Coke Zero and maintain that classic Coke flavor (arguably), while Pepsi was only able to get their calorie count down to one? Where does that last calorie come from, and why can't they seem to get rid of it? Is it really that essential to keep it there in order for Pepsi One to taste like Pepsi?

I suppose Pepsi might not have wanted to completely rip off Coke Zero by creating Pepsi Zero, so maybe Coke just beat them to the punch. But still, for those calorie crunchers out there, every last one counts, and Pepsi, you're just adding yet another calorie to my diet. For shame.

But don't worry, Pepsi, I still like you better and will ingest that extra calorie for your sweet flavorful goodness.

ps. Should MJ read this at some point, I know, I'm sorry, I've brought this up with you before. But it's late, I'm running out of creativity, so I just reached out there and grabbed the first random thing to pop into my head. Don't worry, I promise you the next one will be random even to you ;-)

LEGOS and an Audi, or something more...

When I was 14 years old, I biked 350 miles down the western shore of Michigan over the course of a week. That was my idea of a good summer camp experience. Regular camps where you sleep in the same cabin all week, build little crafts, sing around a camp fire, and don't go anywhere just weren't that much fun to me.

Biking that far in six and a half days is not easy, whether you're 14 or 40 (I'm guessing here; I'm not 40 yet...). You drink a ton of water, you swallow a few more bugs than you're comfortable with, and you get to eat all the Little Debbie snacks you want without a single ounce of guilt. And in between those moment: road. Lots of long, long road. Straight and winding, flat and hilly, wide and narrow. And this was back in the days before the iPod blessed the world with its existence. So you had a lot of time to think, to let your mind wander, to explore the vast reaches of your memory and wonder what this life is all about...if you're mature and do that sort of thing. I wasn't, and I didn't.

I thought about LEGOS. A lot. Specifically, this one Robin Hood-esque Castle set that had just come out. It wasn't cheap, but I had saved my money all summer for camp, and now that camp was here, I was determined to save my money straight through camp to buy that set when I got home. That may seem selfish--and yes, it was--but then there wasn't much call for money at this camp: we camped in churches and at campgrounds that had no souvenir shops, all of our food was provided, and we almost never stopped at shops to buy things. But still...LEGOS? That was my goal? That was why I worked hard to get through the week? That was the drive that kept me going?

Four years later, I undertook my first job: kitchen staff at a summer camp (the kind of camp that only moved kids in the spiritual sense of the word, not the geographical at all). It was awful, and quite arguably more sweat-filled than that bike camp (3 big ovens, no air conditioning...but the walk-in freezers felt amazing). The fact that I spent two more summers working there is proof that God has a sense of humor. And yeah, the second and third summers were both awesome, but that first one was a sheer test of endurance. My lone goal that summer: reach the fall.

Maybe I'm the only one who has had selfish or at least slightly skewed goals in life when it's come to getting through things, but if I'm not alone, then I have to wonder, why do we do that? Why do we focus so much on things that, in all honesty, aren't that great? I mean, I loved that LEGO set and played with it plenty. But now it sits on a shelf in its box, where it's been for the last eight years (update 9-2-08: my parents have informed me that a few weeks ago, that shelf decided it was tired of hanging on the wall...so the boxes have been moved). And what happened that fall after camp? I went to college and got even busier (albeit, a bit less sweaty). We focus on these things that can never really fill us, and what do such thoughts produce? Enough endurance to just get through. (Note the lack of the word "joy" in that last sentence.)

Psalm 1 is a psalm I've read a bunch of times because it's the first in the book and seems like a good place to start each time I feel like trying to tackle that book. But as I read it tonight, something in it stood out to me like never before. Verses 2 and 3 state:

"But his [a man of righteousness, referred to in verse 1] delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers."

There is so much I found myself able to pull out of that verse, but because I've already gone on too long here, I'll just mention the first thing that struck me. This man delights in the law of the LORD, and he focuses on it day and night. I don't know about you, but I can't say there have been a lot of times in my life when I could say my focus on God was that strong. I focus on a lot of things in life, dreams and goals, places I'd like to be, things I'd like to do, hopes of things yet to come, and yes, often times God is in the midst of those thoughts and dreams. But how often is He the focus? Or more than that, when I'm not dreaming of jobs I'd love to have, cars I'd like to own, or the kind of girl I'd love to marry one day, how often am I focusing on God then? When I'm just resting, just chilling out, just wasting time or having fun, is God at the focus of my life then? Sometimes. But sadly not enough to say I meditate on Him "day and night."

But that's what I want. It's what I am longing for. It's why I started this blog. I want God to be the focus of my life, the foundation, the very reason and drive behind anything I do, because I've come to realize that no matter how much I want something, no matter how far my dreams may reach, it is God who is in control and the timing of those dreams becoming reality is in His hands (for example: He didn't call me to Los Angeles until four years after I would have loved to move here...and it was worth the wait). And I know that if, by His strength and guidance I can learn to focus more on Him, I can't even begin to imagine what my life would look like as a result. To be that tree planted by His streams of life-giving water, to drink it in every moment of the day and reap blessings (and there's another post for another time: "blessings" does not mean a perfect wife, 2.4 kids, a house in Bel-Air, and an Audi RS8. Sometimes it can mean just a comforting friend who shows up just when you need them most).

"Whatever he does prospers." To me, that doesn't mean that if I can just focus on God, He will bless me with an unimaginable career as a visual effects guru in the film industry, a hot wife, some genius kids who are not only attractive but are also superb athletes with perfect teeth, and a dog that was born trained and housebroken. In all honesty, I have no idea what tomorrow holds. God may tell me suddenly to pack up and move to Djibouti to produce promotional films for a missions organization there. I may not want to do that right now, but God can totally change my heart and give me a passion for that if He wants. For a few years, I didn't want to take on the position of Lead Video Producer at the JH Ranch, but before the job even fell to me, I found within me a desire to just go for it and a confidence in my abilities that had not always been there. God can change a heart's desires, so who's to say His idea of helping me to prosper looks anything like my own ideas? All I know is, it's been my experience that when God brings about His will for my life, it is always something far better than any of my own best laid plans. It surpasses the farthest reaches of my imagination. And most of all, it draws me nearer to Him. So whatever it is He wants for me, I want that. Even if He were to tell me right now what was to come and my reaction was, "What, seriously? That? Why that? Seriously? Do I have to?" I trust He would change my mind and heart in time for Him to bring it about in my life, and on that day I would wonder how I could have ever dreaded and feared such an experience.

And all it takes is focusing my life, wholeheartedly, day and night, on God and His Word. That's all. And that's what I want for my life. Him first. The rest will follow.

Help!

Someone help me, please!

I am stuck in a haiku

And I can't get out!

Cheetos, Chickens, and Change

I have a strong aversion for Cheetos. Which is both sad and nice; I used to be a Cheetos addict, but now that I'm older and realize they're not the healthiest food out there, I'm glad that I've broken the habit. Or rather, a 24-hour flu bug ended it for me. One evening, the last thing I had to eat was a snack of Cheetos, and the next day they were the first thing to come back up. And from that moment on, few Cheetos have passed my lips, and those that have just weren't that appealing.

On the other hand, I love chicken. But there were many years when chicken and I were at odds. It took a lot of chicken nuggets, KFC drumsticks (yeah, I was a model of perfect health growing up), and camp food to help me to discover my long lost love for this most delectable of birds.

Life is funny like that sometimes. You find yourself with a set of wings, but do they do anything productive? No. They just flap there and taste good. How embarrassing...wait...

I mean, sometimes a single circumstance can change who you are, whether for a while or for life, and sometimes change can take years of enduring the same lessons over and over until you finally come to understand just why something is good and something else is not. And I'm not just talking about food here. Change can come in any form: behaviors, attitudes, cautionary measures, emotions, hair color, fingernail length, the list goes on.

A few months ago, after feeling restless for long enough, I began to desire change in my life. And not just something small or temporary, but huge, and in every area of my life. Especially in my relationship with God. I've been a Christian since I was about 5 years old, which is about the equivalent of growing up assuming you know how to perform open-heart surgery. I figured I knew everything, but if you'd put me to a real test, I'd have flatlined it in under a minute.

Then 4 years ago, in one really awesome moment, God got through to me in a whole new way and I discovered for the first time just how possible an actual relationship with Him can be. It's a bit of a story, and this is getting long, so I'll spare the details for some other time. But in that one moment, my whole life changed...and yet there are still days when I look back and feel like the real change is happening so gradually, I wonder just how far I've actually come since that night in June of 2004.

Someplace Else Tomorrow is something I've begun out of my desire to see more change come into my life. I don't journal enough, so I'd like to use this as a way to be able to look back one day and see where I used to be and how far I've come. I don't share my faith enough, so I'd like this blog to be a potential source of encouragement to any and all who stop by here; maybe someone will see what God has done for me and will be inspired to believe that He could, in fact, do the same for them.

So welcome, one and all, to Someplace Else Tomorrow, a blog that has nothing to do with traveling (for now, at least, until God decides to call me elsewhere). No, S.E.T. (ha, I hadn't realized the initials spelled "set"...maybe I won't abbreviate it...) is just a place to remind myself that whether quick or slow, whether I can see the difference or not, God is changing me, and I know that, come tomorrow, I'll be somewhere I'm not today.

So here we go :)

And I promise to try and not use too many emoticons. I'm not a huge fan of them, but they do slip in there sometimes...sneaky little grammatical ninjas, aren't they?

Someplace Else Tomorrow

Life. It isn't easy with no happy ever after.

Smiles fading, friends not staying, temporary laughter.

I pray for help, but still I fall, no matter what I do.

But if happiness is momentary, maybe pain is too.

I lie awake and dream of change, to be the real me,

And stand before the world and let them see what they will see.

I want it quick and painless. Just a miracle right now.

But to temptation's will I often find that I will bow.

In those dark moments of grief and shame, buried 'neath the sorrow,

Comfort comes in knowing I'll be someplace else tomorrow.

See, there's this lie within my mind that tells me nothing's new.

But truth I know, and by Christ's strength, we'll see what I can do...

A Letter To An Old Friend...

Dear Xanga,

I'm afraid I've got some bad news, and I think you know what it  is...

You have been such a great friend to me over the years. You helped me waste valuable study time in college. You offered me the luxury of updating so many people all at once about how my summers at the JH Ranch were going. You were there for me when I had graduated from college and didn't know where to go next or what to do to get there....But then things began to change...

I admit, it was mostly my fault. I moved to Atlanta and suddenly I had so much less time to spend with you, crafting witty updates and creating stories with characters based entirely upon your multitude of emoticons. I neglected you, and I am sorry. But when I came back to you, you weren't the same anymore. You'd changed. And, I have to admit, it scared me a little. Photo albums, video uploads, so many new features. Where was the Xanga I knew and loved? What were all these add-ons now cluttering your interface? Why did it take me nearly five minutes that first night just to figure out how to write a new entry?

I know this might be hurtful, but I have to ask: Xanga, why did you go all MySpace on me? Was it because I went and got myself a MySpace site? It can't be, can it? I mean, I did that years ago, well before things got rocky between you and I, and I thought you were cool with it. I mean, I still, to this day, have not once used the blog option MySpace offers. Doesn't that count for anything?

Please don't cry, Xanga. We both knew this was going to happen eventually. People change. Websites change. And sometimes these relationships just grow apart. I hope you understand. I never meant to hurt you or neglect you. I just...lost interest in telling the world about my life for a while. And now that I would like to again, I just feel like I need something new, a change in my life, my habits, my patterns. I can't live in the past. I've got to move on (are those song lyrics?).

I promise I'll check in from time to time. You hold many a favorite story of mine, many awesome memories, and some of my best poems (okay, most of my only poems), and I would hate it if we lost all of those happy times over this. But for now, it's time to make new memories, and they begin tonight.

Goodbye new Xanga updates. I will miss you...just not enough.

Sincerely,

Seth.

Dear Blogspot,

Hi. I'm Seth. I'd like to start a new blog about my constantly changing life, and I hope you'll help me with that. I've seen what you've done for others, and I have to say, I'm impressed. But please understand, I'm coming to you with a blogging history, so you have a decently high bar to try and reach (ha, an unintentional, seriously indirect Olympic pun!...don't worry, I promise not all my jokes are that corny). Not to try and intimidate you or anything. I'm just saying, I've got high expectations for us, and I look forward to what the future may hold.

I sound like I'm hiring you for a job. Silly.

Anyway, I would love to write more about my hopes and dreams for this blog, and I would love to explain why I chose to call it "Someplace Else Tomorrow," but I'm afraid it is late and I have a busy day tomorrow. So new friend, until we meet again, I wish you a wonderful night.

Your new friend,

Seth