Almost August. Again.

I was reminded by Mandy that it’s that time of the year again. I’ve written about it before, but it’s that time of year that I chose as my songwriting moniker, Almost August. I liked it because it puts me at the top of an alphabetical list, but mainly because it describes the craziness I feel before it is August as stated in my aforementioned previously written post.

And yes, I find myself in the same place. Out of school, but still having reasons to be anxious about August. For starters, I’ll be turning 25. That’s insane in itself. Then, there’s reminiscing and mulling over how things were one year ago. That’s more insanity. And if things couldn’t get crazy enough, I’ll be heading to East Asia in a few weeks for my first mission trip ever.

Did your head blow up due to this insanity? Mine just did. Read more »

Up dog.

Sorry it’s been awhile and I never posted my Northwest trip play-by-play. Most of my pictures are on my friend’s camera, so ’til then, I’ll keep those memories packed in my peanut memory the best that I can.

Ever since I got back from vacation, I feel like I’ve hit the ground running. I really don’t have much to show for it and I still manage to sleep a lot, but my body sure feels like it’s been busy and stressed. The other day I was talking to a friend and wondering how I could start my day at 6am and go ’til midnight during high school. My days were cram packed with activities, homework, and work, but I still managed to handle it all. What the heck is different? Certainly being seven years older isn’t a valid excuse. Hold on. Did I say seven years? Holy smokes.

Read more »

“Alone.”

I’ve been re-reading Blue Like Jazz for the past week because…

1) It’s weird to recommend books (or movies or music or anything, really) when I don’t remember much of it. I read Don Miller’s book when I first arrived in Dallas almost two years ago and it changed my thought process a little, in a good way. I can’t even tell you why anymore. But, I still recommend the book so I might as well refresh the ol’ peanut memory.

2) I’m hitting up Portland, Oregon soon - this city that Miller writes so fondly about. I like to say it’s a “magical” place although I’m sure no Oregonian would describe it in that way. It’s Miller’s fault that I’m in love with a place I’ve never been to before. Oregon should hire Miller to whip up an advertising campaign to encourage people to visit. I’ve been writing down places he mentions in hopes that I can visit these places and say, “Hey! Don Miller was here!”

Anyway, all that was not the point of this post. The point is that I’ve been reading the book for those two purposes… but I think God used it to remind about something. Last night, I ended on the chapter titled, “Alone.” Miller is big on community which lines up with the pastors I listen to, and shoo, Jesus kinda liked crowds too, yeah? Even I shoot my mouth off about community, probably because of all of the aforementioned people said it’s a good thing. And my brain agrees.

Miller writes: Rick [edit: Imago Dei Community pastor, Portland, OR] told me, a little later, I should be living in community. He said I should have people around bugging me and getting under my skin because without people I could not grow - I could not grow in God, and I could not grow as a human. We are born into families, he said, and we are needy at first as children because God wants us together, living among one another, not hiding ourselves under logs like fungus. You are not a fungus, he told me, you are a human, and you need other people in your life in order to be healthy.

I read this last night and felt that twinge. Like, “Oh man, I’m not doing this right.” I harp on people about community, but when it comes down to it, my whole body revolts because shoo, community is hard. Community is hard because it’s a synonym for “a whole bunch of sinners, living life together” and that can get ugly. People are different - they are strange, awkward, loud, quiet, obnoxious, paranoid, messy, stressed, stressful, and have the power to hurt you.

I’ve been living by myself in Dallas for almost two years. I understand the crazy thoughts Miller admits in the chapter, “Alone.” Living by yourself definitely has perks — your mess is your mess, the TV is always on the channel I want it to be on, and I’m on my time. I don’t doubt this has socially stunted me though. It’s put me in a very “me-centered” state-of-mind all the time and I’ve become very selfish with my time at home. I’m not dissing time alone at all because that is definitely needed, as Jesus even found time regularly to be alone and with the Father. But I think living in community forces you into thinking about others more than self.

Long story short, I went to bed with that on my mind last night. Then tonight, someone asked me if I’d be interested in moving into her house.

Weird.

I’m not sure if that’s going to go anywhere, but right now, I’ll take it as a reminder from God that I need to stop paying market price for my single bedroom apartment, and go forth and face some fears.

Tomorrow my bro flies in and we’ll be enjoying some John Mayer and Ben Folds action. It’ll be a busy weekend, so keep it cool, cats.

I need a kick in the pants.

For the past week or so, I’ve had to remind myself over and over again that my feelings are variables and my God is the only constant.

I feel like I’m in a brief season of numbness which I’m not sure is any better than the rollercoaster of feelings I’ve been through the past few months. It’s almost like indifference, but with angst. Is that possible?

I see people around me with PASSION for things - work, relationships, friendships, TV shows, music, self-improvement - and while I applaud (usually with jealousy) their energy and efforts, my brain thinks, “Most of these people are putting their lives into something under the sun. And someday both those people and their passions will be laid to rest.” But what have I been doing? Have I not been listening during church as Matt has been trying to get to the bottom of this problem… how come men in the Scriptures so passionately followed Jesus, wholeheartedly obeyed God, and fought tooth and nail against the flesh and for our Constant Truth? What happened to us? Why don’t we see that passion anymore? Anyway, my brain has been wanting to hibernate, but those questions still loom over my head.

Another statement that looms: Don’t let church (Christianity) be a hobby. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a good test taker. I can soak up loads of info the night before and vomit as needed the next day. But ask me about what I soaked up a month later and chances are my peanut brain erased the info. I’m afraid that I look at my beliefs more as hobbies than truths that I am very passionate about. Am I listening to sermons just for knowledge’s sake? Am I attending church just for show? Am I talking about social issues to have others think I’m a very considerate and selfless individual? Yes, I’m aware that this is probably the devil planting seeds of doubt in my head, or maybe it’s God saying, “I don’t think you’ve picked a god. You can’t serve both. Or many. After you pick, you pursue this god with all you’ve got because what else is there to live for?” Lukewarm, He’ll spit you out of His mouth, right?

I know Derek Webb wrote “Wedding Dress” about the Church, but I feel like that whore he sings about. Like I want a relationship with Jesus with all the benefits, but without all the responsibility. I want to be able to sin it up then expect Jesus to welcome me back with open arms — but I can’t comprehend Grace. I want to love God and love others, but without all the time, effort, tears, pain, and sacrifices.

Ramble, ramble, ramble. I need a vacation. And I want God to make Himself known to me in such a way that I’ll be excited to get back from my vacation and get busy living.

Perfection.

Just wanted to point out something from my RSS feeds, specifically from Anne’s blog who took it from her friend Sarah’s blog. No, I know neither of these people, but Anne Jackson has written several articles for Relevant that I happened to stumble upon. Then I stumbled upon her blog. I enjoy her posts because she definitely sounds like someone I’d love to have coffee with over conversations on design, the world wide web, and life in general. Anyway, here’s the quote:

My perfectionism creates a demand for the unattainable. This perpetuates my self-hate and tendency to isolate - because if I can’t be perfect, no one will accept or love me, of course. Our society demands perfection. Everyone I encounter is “puttin’ on airs,” as my dad would say. (Southern for pretending to be something you’re not). Image is everything. I loathe my imperfection. I wish I was pious enough to embrace it as a reminder of the abundant Grace which covers my imperfection. But I can’t claim to be anything of the sort. Imperfection to me spells disaster. On the one hand, I do seek to be transparent in some areas. What an oxymoron. Partially transparent.

I don’t know what to say about it right now, but it hit a chord in me so I thought I’d make note here.

As far as life has been, it’s been busy. A good busy though, as a few of us have been celebrating a friend’s birthday all weekend long. It left a bittersweet taste in my mouth though as I’ve realized our times together are definitely numbered. I mean, yes, duh, my days on earth are numbered, but I’m guessing the chances of all of us getting together again could be counted on my hands. People are picking up and moving out. It’s strange.

Today I just felt resistance to growing up. Strong resistance. Because growing up means letting go and there’s just some stuff that I don’t want to let go of, you know? In due time, I suppose. I just think back to the circles I used to run in and I don’t remember when the circles changed. I think back at all of my closest friends and how I barely know them anymore. (Except for one or two!) But schools change, classes change, jobs change, locations change, and hearts change.

Personally, I don’t think I’ve ever get used to it. I still think about all my best friends from junior high, high school ,and college and wonder what went wrong. But, in most cases, I’m sure nothing went wrong. That’s just how life works. People walk in and out. No wonder people yearn for something solid to stand on.