Category: Signs Of Life

General thoughts, mostly blog updates

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“Joy To the World” Isn’t Just For Christmas

Sometimes, you just have to stop trying to be happy.

Where in life do we balance “being content” with “reaching for more”? Paul says in Phillipians 4:13 that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” He was referring to those who live in plenty, or live in poverty… this applies spiritually and physically. Sometimes we just need to be content with where we are, and understand that God will give us what we need, and get us through.

There are times, however, when being content with misery isn’t going to work. You can say all you want about being humble, but God doesn’t want us to be miserable, either. If there is more misery in your life than joy, there’s a good reason for it… just not the reason you’d expect. The church today (little “c”) has found success in promising people happiness and comfort. And yes, if happiness comes from physical comfort, then they’re very good at making church members “happy.”  But Jesus never promised fame, fortune, or worldly success. Or happiness.

So if that’s the case, where does our contentment, our peace, our joy come from? And what’s the difference anyway? Well, our joy comes from God… not doing things for God, not learning about God, not talking about God. Joy comes from God Himself.

There is no formula. There isn’t a “if X then Y” flowchart. The only way to have Joy is to be in the presence of God. And that looks different for everybody. You may feel closest to God when you pour through scripture. You might feel close to God when you’re singing praises, or helping the poor, or painting a picture. But, it comes with common sense, too. You can’t say “I feel closest to God when I’m downing a fifth of Vodka.” Sorry, but what you’re feeling isn’t God… that’s momentary happiness, maybe. Certainly not Joy, because the funny thing about Joy is that is doesn’t wear off easily. If we spend time with God steadily, it doesn’t wear off at all. And most importantly, Joy from God doesn’t leave you feeling drained, worn out, or hung over.

When you get to the point where you’re trying so hard to be close to God that you’re worn out, you can pretty much bet you’ve left God behind. He’s not in the maelstrom, he’s not in the typhoon, he’s not in the earthquake… God is that still, small voice, calling to you in your exhaustion and misery.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Matthew 11:28-30 – MSG

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I Drive, Therefore I Am

I hate driving. And I love driving.

Yes, I am a paradox. Almost everything I do is a paradox. But in particular, driving is the one that gets me.

I’ve been driving since I was fifteen (which was… let’s see…twenty-four years ago?) and I’ve always been enamored with cars, especially fast cars. Which of course means I like driving, and also racing. And driving fast. But here, out in the third-world country known as Louisiana, there are more idiots on the roads than anything else. It’s quite evident if you spend more than a day driving anywhere south of I-10 that people not only have no freaking clue what good driving is, they also don’t care.

Louisiana tops the nation as having the worst drivers of all fifty states. This comes as a surprise to nobody. I hate driving here, and what’s even worse, I hate riding my bike in traffic here. The roads are poorly maintained, horribly planned, and just plain dangerous. Add horrible drivers to that, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

I recently took a road trip to Houston, TX. I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though it was long. Why? Smooth, well-marked roads. Mostly courteous drivers. It was a pleasure to drive the Texas interstate system. Nobody was swerving while driving, nobody texting and drinking and driving and talking on the phone, and who knows what else. They were just, you know, driving. Imagine that. In a car, and just driving! Crazy, right?

So basically, I love driving, but I hate drivers.

I think I need to go ride my bike.

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FOMO Is Ruining My Life

2 Corinthians 10.

I have a problem… and chances are, you have the same problem, too.

I hate missing out. In modern culture, this tendency is called “FOMO,” or “Fear of Missing Out.”

And after I sit and think about it for a while, I realize just how pervasive and deep-rooted this is in my life. The more I look, the more I realize it’s driven almost every aspect of where I’ve been and where I’m going. Social Media has only made it worse.

And why shouldn’t we hate missing out? We should experience life to the fullest, right? We should reach for the stars, climb the highest heights, go big or go home! Right? Right??

But that’s not how it works. It’s taken me a long time, but I’m realizing that everything costs something. Every time I want to go run off and experience some cool new thing, there’s something else in my life that has to give. When I want to go catch a concert (because hey, I may never see it again!) there’s consequences. Someone else pays for my spontaneity. Continue reading “FOMO Is Ruining My Life”

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Scars Are Not A Sign of Weakness

I’ve noticed that in the last few years, I’ve accumulated a lot of scars. Everything from ant bites to major surgery seems to leave a scar on me. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even care if I have scar spots all over my hands, arms, and legs… it’s pretty much unavoidable.

But why do we spend so much time trying to hide our scars? Are we trying not to be judged? Will people think I’m not as attractive if I have staple marks on my head, or discolored lumps on my thigh? What about wrinkles and age spots?

I hate to say it, but I’m not young anymore. Not physically, anyway. I’m pushing 40, which is a long way from 18. Further away from 18 than when I was born. When I look in the mirror, I’m presented with a mix-n-match splatter of skin tones, based upon how long ago the scar was formed. Some of them you almost can’t see. You wouldn’t know they were there if I didn’t show you, but each and every one has a memory tied to it. They remind me of times when I was more reckless… more spontaneous… and less inclined to care.

I have a lot of spiritual and mental scars, as well. They don’t show up often, as I’ve learned to hide them well. We all do. However, you can’t hide scars from everybody, and you can’t hide anything from God. If you’ve been hurt, He knows.

Some people will say “It’s God’s fault I have scars!”

Well, yes. It’s also a doctor’s fault I have an 18″ scar running down my left leg. If it weren’t for that scar, I would probably have never walked without crutches or a cane. It’s a scar I’m willing to deal with, because it’s a sign of healing. The damage underneath would have been much worse without the scar.

Some of my scars are from my own stupidity. Like the time I cut my fingertip with a razor knife. Or the other time I cut a different fingertip with a pair of scissors. Or the time I… well, you get the idea. Sometimes it’s just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have a lot of scars like that. Bug bites, scratches, cuts, you name it. After a while, I tend to forget they’re there. They blend into my self-image so that even I don’t see them. And I look good in the mirror.

But every now and then my scars will itch, and remind me of my past. I have one particular scar that is over two years old, and it’s still healing. Still discolored. Still itches and aches when the weather changes. It’s still ugly, but it’s in a spot where nobody can see it unless I show them. It is fading- slowly- but at this rate it will be decades before it turns the same color as my skin, and it will probably never smooth down to where it’s not noticeable.

I’m okay with scars now. It’s taken some time, but over the years, God has healed my wounds inside and out. Every time it happens, I think “Man, what an ugly scar!” but it’s proof that God is there, pulling me through, healing me. Now I tend to get scars from almost everything. And you know what? It doesn’t bother me.

I’m not done healing. It may take some time. In your life, it may take some time, too. You might have some pretty big wounds, but God can heal them all. They do leave scars, but underneath, there is real healing going on.

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Corporate Emo Poetry Monday- Labor Day Edition

Hurtling myself towards the goal
I determinedly grasp the pole
To vault skywards and reach the prize

I flex and bend to make amends
While people call themselves my friends
But the real me they don’t recognize

And while we pause to celebrate
I fight the urge to overrate
The disgusting faceless corporate giants

I stand with brothers arm in arm
Who fight  the corporate need to harm
The very ones who stand in defiance

Happy Labor Day!

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Two Years And Counting: Looking Back

I can’t believe it’s been two years. It seems like much longer, considering.

Two years since what?

Two years since I had my life turned upside down, through no fault of my own, and ended up laid out in a hospital room with my femur shattered in about 8 pieces, indebted to the hospital for $100,000.

It’s kind of a bittersweet remembrance. Of course, there are parts of it I wish I could forget, like the feeling of being slammed into a car’s windshield. I wish I could forget when they installed a traction pin through my knee with a cordless drill. I wish I could forget screaming at the top of my lungs when they moved me from table to table to table in order to get MRI scans. I wish I could remember everything that happened in the hospitals, the people who visited me, the things people told me about when I wasn’t strung out on painkillers.

But it’s not just about what I do and don’t remember. If life were just a series of random events, then all we’d have to do is wait for it to be over. Instead, I’ve chosen to look and actively see what God is trying to show me. Sometimes it’s obvious, and sometimes it’s not.

It’s not about what I do and don’t remember from the last two years that gets me. When I look back and try to remember the things I learned about myself, and about God, it reminds me that there is so much more to life than just waiting out your time.

I learned that God is extremely patient- to a point. Eventually He will get your attention.

I learned that no matter how strong you are, there are always situations that can and will break you.

No matter how broken you are, God still loves you, and He will bring you through it if you let Him.

It’s easier to hear God when you’re immobilized in a hospital bed with nowhere to go and nothing else to do but listen.

Sometimes listening to God is hard. Sometimes it’s painful, but necessary (like surgery). Sometimes it’s like a breath of fresh air. It always puts me at peace.

I learned that nothing in life is more important than spending time with God. Nothing. Without that, everything else kind of falls apart.

I learned that I could speak honestly with people, and more often, if I shared my hardships with them. People don’t want to listen to advice from someone who’s never been through hardship.

Hardships are well, hard. Sometimes unbearably hard. That’s okay, sometimes. You just have to lean on God.

There are many other things I learned while I healed, and I’m trying every day to remember them and live them out. Once your life has been turned around by God, you begin to understand how He works, and how He works through the rough times. He’s there.

Some days I wish I didn’t have a messed up leg. Every time it rains, my whole leg aches. It itches. It twinges and aches when I exercise, it hurts even more when I don’t. It’s a constant reminder of how I could have died… but didn’t. It reminds me that God is with me, every day, in every circumstance.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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State of the Blog Address

So, I haven’t written anything here lately. I haven’t written anything on my blog in a while, honestly. There is a part deep inside of me that feels badly about this, because as we all know, you can’t be a successful writer if you don’t write.

However, the sad truth is that I’m just too busy with working and being with family to really do much of anything lately. When I do have time, it’s usually working on something else, like music, or reading. This is infinitely better than writing, and I’ll tell you why.

Because without *doing* anything in our lives, we have nothing to write about! How could I come up with cool new ways to write about technology and music if I didn’t actually do them? How could I explain the process of being quiet and listening to God’s still, small voice if I haven’t done it? Where would I get the cool pictures of my latest creation if I don’t build anything? How could I relate parables of God’s grace revealed to me through my awesome children if I don’t spend time with them? I can’t. And neither can you.

So all that to say, I’m here, I’m having fun living life, and I’m getting a lot done. And when I have time to sit down and write about it again, you can bet I will.

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How I turned my life around… and lost it again

Life On Hold:

Have you ever been at a point where you know you need to change, but you just don’t know where to start? Four years ago, I was at that point.

I had recently moved back to my home town, had a beautiful family, and was pretty much happy. Except that I wasn’t happy. I was pretty miserable in fact, but I wasn’t letting on. Why? Some of the reasons were related to my job, but a lot of it had to do with me being 40+ pounds overweight. I was weighing in at 5′ 11″ and 215 pounds.

“That’s not so bad,” you’re probably thinking. Well, no, relatively speaking, there are a lot of people that are a lot heavier than I was. But the reality was that I knew my life, and my weight, were spiraling out of control. I was always tired, having digestion issues, sinus problems, sleep apnea, and I plowed through it, being miserable and pretty much always exhausted.

But I knew there was a better way. Thanks to my friend Mike, I got interested in whole foods (which I knew practically nothing about) and realized how much garbage I was putting into my body. Somewhere in that time, my job started getting very frustrating. I was hating going to work, and I’m ashamed to say it carried over into my home life. I knew I needed a change, but I didn’t know where to start.

So, I bought a bike. Continue reading “How I turned my life around… and lost it again”

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Life’s Too Short (To Be a Muggle)

Since we started homeschooling our kids (it’s a long story, but at the time we were living in Orleans Parish) we’ve struggled to motivate our kids to learn, and to develop personal skills.

If you’ve never seen or read the Harry Potter series, a “muggle” is a non-magical person in a world of magicians. In the stories, wizards who are born of one magical and one non-magical parent are “mugbloods”, or half breeds. They are viewed with contempt by the pure-blooded wizards, but the fact is they are just as powerful. Their lineage has nothing to do with whether or not they’re good wizards.

So often in our life, we look at non-churched people with contempt, because, well, they just couldn’t be as holy as us. Cause you know, we go to church. The same goes for anything…. homeschooling, bike commuting, cars we drive, clothes we wear… other people are different. And we’re not.

Yeah, right.

As far as allowing my kids to read and watch Harry Potter, I did consider it carefully beforehand, and no, it’s not perfect. There’s a lot there that needs to be addressed, but that discussion is for another day.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. Homeschooling.

So we’ve always had normal behavior problems with our kids, for a variety of reasons. I decided to take advantage of my kids’ interest in Harry Potter by setting up a points system like they use at wizard school. Students can earn points for bravery, doing good deeds, following instructions, and being helpful. They gets points deducted for breaking rules, arguing, and being dishonest (we have to specify dishonest instead of lying because sometimes they will try to trick each other without words!)

We split our kids into two houses which happened to be the same as their houses on the website Pottermore.com and at the end of a predetermined time, whichever house has more points wins a prize, and the house cup. The other house will also get a smaller prize, because they earned points as well. For every point they earn, they add a bean to their house jar (white beans and red beans, because that’s what we had… the kids rolled them in glitter to make them “magical”) and after a couple of weeks, we add them up.

So far, it’s been fairly okay, but we’ve had a few meltdowns over points that we’ve had to deal with. Last night I had to take away points for the first time, and there was a major meltdown.

I guess the main thing about it is that for us to be able to assign house points, we have to be actively watching our kids. If they do something right and we don’t see it, but their siblings do the same and we catch it, then they get mad (and rightly so). It makes it very hard to be fair, so I’m required to equally spend time with all of the kids. Imagine that!

The truth I have to take away from this is that you have to meet kids where they are. You can say they need to learn something till you’re blue in the face, but when you speak their language, they listen.

And a little bit of magic doesn’t hurt!

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Congress #Failing

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I saw this moron, in the span of about 10 minutes: run a stop sign, run a red light, tailgate, speed, and pass unsafely, all while talking on his cell phone. The license plate said “House of Representatives” and was plate number 052.

Just saying.