lessons from nature

the Scriptures speak of the natural elements crying out Christ's Lordship. well, i believe they chat about various other things as well, under the umbrella of His ubiquitous omniscience and perpetual rule. for one, He has given me (as requested) much wisdom lately about how to study. it might be too late to recover what 'could have been' for this semester, at least for the final i'm about to take tomorrow. however, i will implementing the strategy full-time next semester. it is simply this:

progress by regressing. everyone uses computers, technology, phones, etc. to 'enhance' information exchange. and yet i've noticed a peculiar trend--my mind works faster, better, and more efficiently when it's looking at real paper. this explains why every attorney (out of 9) i've ever handed papers to when working at the law firm always wanted PAPER not computer files. they would convert everything to paper. technology impedes.

so, the holy grail of study methodology is this: be in motion, either walking, or jogging while looking at a piece of paper, while listening to a voice file that you have recorded of that piece of paper. my retention has skyrocketed. i literally think i'm getting 3 hours out of each hour of time. amazing. thank you Lord!

Of course, law school is not purely about retention. and, i'm finding, for me, i'm pretty sure it's moreso about loving and serving Him above all else. am i going to sell my soul to go for the top and leave Him behind? No way! That choice begins the moment you step on campus--well, really it begins before you get here, but my point is that God has left me to choose whether i would step into old habits of workaholism and selfish pride--putting my own fears/desires for success ahead of His unique purposes for my life, and moreso than that--at the fundamental level--above HIM as a person.

One of the ways in which He spoke to me today was, after a hard hour and change of straight walking on the beach while reading and listening to my outline simultaneously, i felt the thought that i should put it away, and just listen to the next song on my IPOD, instead of my outline, so i did. It was mercy me's 'where you lead me' and i was floored. it was as if God was speaking the words of the song directly to me--that He wants me keep following where He leads and leave the rest to Him. If He wants me here next year, He'll make it happen. i can't do it on my own power, and...why would i want to??

and as He was saying this a seagull swooped down [hadn't seen one yet in the previous hour] and tracked along the rolling wave coming into shore, as if it wanted to surf the thing. the grace of it was astounding. and then i thought....that is just like me....i'm flying with Him, and close to the edge of a wave that could capsize me.

and then a few minutes later i looked and there were two seaguls tracking the wave in the exact same way--and tracking each other. and God said:

God: That's what it will be like...you'll be flying the same path, in the same way, and must still focus on who you are, your mission, and most importantly--ME (as in--God). And then she'll be flying right beside you, and you'll be a pair--but seperate.
Me: Oh, ok. Got it.

It was extremely liberating, and i know it sounds silly, but if there's anything i've had to overcome regarding the prospect of dating/romance, it's a lack of personal boundaries which stem from a good thing, which is an uber-close/connected family, primarily, but it is quite reassuring to know that all God wants me to do is keep being me and following Him first and foremost.

And all it took was some waves, some sand, and some seagulls to teach me.

And all it takes is paper and a voice and walking, one foot in front of the other, to study. Try it sometime, you might be surprised....

What a swiss watch, romance, and the richest men in the world have in common...

....timing. Although i am beginning to contemplate the thought that we assume that we somehow have a possessory interest in something entirely beyond our control. It is not that our actions have no merit or that there is not some influence on the world, events, God's plan, etc. However, it is rarely as much as we assume. In truth, our stories have been written out before our very existence was contemplated by either of our parents, by the One who has predestined our very steps, that we walk in them. No matter where our foot may lead us, our very directives are being steered by Omnipotence.

In perfect timing. Like the waves which splash upon the sand...movements in time and space with a cyclical rhythm, and yet, no two ever look the same. And while the permeation touches an infinite number of variables and aspects of nature--just as waves touch an infinite number of sand grains--there is constancy, yet unpredictability. Stability, yet, the oncoming rush of unknown chaos that can sweep any organism into an abyss of unknown. And yet, He knows it all...

when life gives you a huge lemon...

watch thrown in ocean. not worn for 7 years. now it's at sea bottom. somewhere in the pacific. along with any idol i've put my hope in, relationally. adversity is a gift. it shouts to us in our pain. i'm realizing i have been letting my circumstances control me, in this arena of life.

my new mantra is: start providing security now by preparing to do so in the future without any meeting of my needs now. what i mean is, i have always assumed that providing spiritual, relational, and emotional security are just as important as financial. too many men, once they are married--provide financially but not in other areas. therefore i've focused too much on these. to me, i'd rather be in love and loving God and following Him and poor, but she'll probably want financial security, once she comes along.

so, since God seems to be estopping me from any promise He might have for me in the future, i suppose all i can do is channel everything into provision for her....become a skilled craftsman in the law, and business, and be ready to offer that to her once she, whoever she will be, is ready for a boyfriend, i guess...

saturated soul. squeezed out. re- filled.

saturated soul. overwhelmed heart. dormant talent. caged mind. 'turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face...' persecuted Savior. a kind Lord. the only humble Heart. the only unflinching Truth. selfless Warrior King. Divine nature. true Freedom. loving Mind.

this day i never saw coming. hit me like a ton of bricks. i will look back and thank God for His wisdom. for His patience with me. for the patience of friends. for their listening ear. at the end of the day. the message is clear. pursue Him. keep the faith.

this is not coincidence. this is because i love Him. because God has plans. huge plans. gynormous plans. for this area of my life. therefore, the arrows come. like an onslaught i cannot fathom. they are always and nearly all aimed at this area. His shield. of faith. extinguishes the enemy's fiery darts.

it is my sole hope. it is conditional. without faith it is impossible to please God.

"take a flight across the water..."

the sun glistening off the water shocks one's senses to the point of appreciation for a beauty that literally breaks apart the brain, the heart, the soul. Why would God stoop to the level of spiritual animals who often forsake Him, and take the time in infuse their lives, my life, with beauty? Dostoyevsky once talked about how 'terrifying' beauty was...how it unnerved the security one often finds within oneself, or perhaps moreso--within one's conception of the world. But beauty shatters that glass house with ruthless care for one's true person...locked within whatever preconceptions of life, the world, and the limitations thereof....His mercies really are new every morning--literally. Such an amazing morning drive we have....He is good. All the time, God is good. And His paintbrush is finely tuned and exhibits a magnanimity unknown or ill-conceived of by human thought and action. He is so far above us....His ways confound us, His decrees confuse us, His creations overwhelm us, His love pervades us, His knowledge makes fools of us all....

Softball as a romantic allegorical lesson from God, and well, love in general...

so i'm standing out in right field, not having played softball for 7 years--summer of 2002 it was, in Washington D.C. i'm here in Malibu, and there's a 'Shiek' [not kidding] in a Rolls-Royce [i'm guessing the vanity plate is truthful...] in the parking lot. It is, after all, Malibu.

Anyway, i just struck out. As in, not even uncorrdinated girls who don't even care if they hit the ball strike out. Not being sexist here--just saying, if girls can hit the ball, guys who play sports regularly should be able to...

God says: YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED IN SEVEN YEARS.
Me: ok.
God: what do you expect?
Me: expect perfection you mean...?
God: why expect ANYTHING?
Me: so this is about...
God: yep. The relationship you think you want.
Me: *light bulb
God: just focus on hitting the ball....
Me: as in...not where to hit it, or getting a hit, or...
God: just MAKE CONTACT.

one week later:

so i show up really wanting to hit the ball. And then it hits me: i can't do so without practice. So, i ask the other bench player on the team if she'll throw some soft-toss for me. To make a long story short, it helped. A LOT.

My first at-bat i actually made contact with the ball, with the bat that was in my hands. Shocking, i know :) I popped up, and was aboard on first base, when they threw out someone at second. Oddly, i scored a run. Oddly, the next time up, i did NOT score a run, after hitting the ball hard into the gap and getting an actual 'hit.'

The incrementalism blew me away. If you're striking out, the best you can hope for is to first hit the ball. Maybe just a foul tip. Then, perhaps to hit the ball hard. After that, perhaps to get a hit. You cannot skip steps. Not if you haven't picked up a bat in 7 years, anyway.

So God taught me a lot. I need to take the same incremental approach regarding dating. Just seek Him, obey Him. If He says swing, do it, just hoping to make contact. If not, don't. I haven't swung in 7 years and it's going to be ugly when i do, most likely. If the girl cannot see through that, then that's alright, and i'll get better. One day, a hit is coming. I don't know when, or how, but i know that it is. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen.

Can't see it yet...or, as the song that my Electrified Sister the Rainbow-Personality Law Princess [ESRPLP for short] shared with me says "i just haven't met you yet" by Michael Buble.

Strangely, peculiarly, when i listened to the song, i realized: there was no doubt in me.
Why? Because God was gracious enough to speak into the greatest weakness in my life, and give me an answer. Not a self-gratifying answer. The truth. It created peace, comfort, calm, strength, and love. Love for a God who can see, and has seen, my entire life. Love for a God who does not want me to settle for less than His best. Love for a God who has things in me He wants to share with a lady who will appreciate them, and be protected and loved by my waiting, and growing, and trusting in Him which i cannot see.


And speaking of appreciation...this goes out to amazing Christian young ladies who, through merely a few incidental comments, actions, etc. have defused much of the frustration i often vent toward the general lack of appreciation that Christian ladies often have for us guys.
To Grace the soft-spoken Lion Huntress....to that jewel of a country girl who is a true sports fan, to that basketball-loving warrior of truth with equal parts ferocity and tenderness, and to my fellow overgrown child who set free my inner child, thank you all for things you probably did not even realize you said that kept me afloat over these past few years. It has been a wild ride. I used to think that single girls never noticed a guy's character. At least, not to the level that these ladies have....thank you for appreciating the battles, and how fierce they often are, and perhaps most of all for understanding when you don't understand how tough it is. For so long i have felt like that foolish soldier guarding a post for years past, on an island, never being told the war is over. The battles may be being lost all around me, but the war is never over till death. As long as i have breath in my body, i will fight to live out God's calling in every area of my life--even the one which seems the most pointless. One day, it will all be worth it. Or not. But it will still have been worth it.

And Evvvvvaaaaaaaaa........CONGRATULATIONS! You and Jacob are going to do awesome!!! I'm sick of attending weddings, but for you guys, i'll gladly fail a final or two....

[And thank you for your wise words and encouragement that did challenge me, but also gave me permission to be myself--thank you for acknowledging the good things God has refined in me...you have no idea how much it got me through the mass of confusion in my head that swarmed around from last December through April....and in case you were curious, those situation make surprisingly simple sense to me now!]

Haha...what a kind and patient God we serve! He's never late, and He's always right. Which is why it's tough being in relationship with Him, for among other reasons. And, why He matches us each up with imperfect people....because none of us live a Hollywood romance....and believe me...most people in Hollywood are miserable...

The Big 17, a tired salmon, manifestation of mutual assent, and a stunning revelation

So this blog post is not thought out. It's just rapid fire, from the hip shots across the bow at 12:49 a.m. that have not even been unscrambled from the mental queue that is my brain, struggling to assimilate a confluence of mental stimulation that has moved me speedingly past the saturation point previously experienced while living a balanced life.

In other words, law school is a part of my life. Instead of dominating my life. The way school used to. When i was in college. Or high school. Or junior high and could do math problems in my head before the teacher even finished the question. Yes, i was a space alien savant. Still am, i hope. We'll find out in about 45 days. Or, more correctly: over the span of the next 3 or so fortnights. Well, really over the span of the next 6 months....

That has been the biggest gift anyone's given me. [precursor...i have this friend who is amazingly an advocate of ardent astute application of academics....his blog character name is Walter Mitty the CIA Secret Agent who needs a Girl who's a Comedianne...or, Agent Mitty for short].

Agent Mitty: So, you need to study more.
Me: I know. I am trying...my focus is just, off. [he knows about my desire for a relationship being more important to me than editor of law review...blah blah on all that]
Agent Mitty: *legal mumbo jumbo
Me: *legal mumbo jumbo
Agent Mitty: Wait...*light bulb goes off in his head*...are you just overcomplicating this reasoning process [regarding legal mumbo jumbo]?
Me: *processes, whir whir whir...yes, Agent Mitty, i think you're right.
Me: *light bulb slowly turning on....whoa. Dude. Wow. You are right.
[later in the conversation]
Agent Mitty: Wait...you were a math prodigy?!?!?
Me: Um, yes. Operative word being "was"
Agent Mitty: [completely not hearing any of my words beyond 'yes'] YOU COULD BE NUMBER ONE IN LAW SCHOOL!!!!??!??!
Me: Are you serious????
Agent Mitty: YES.
Me: *look of confusion

And then today it finally clicked. Lawyerese is engineering. With words. It's math. With phrases and rules and concepts. It's a flow chart that an English professor would heart.
If i even crack the top 10% of my class at any point, it'll be in large part thanks to good old Agent Mitty. I'm serious. You see, honest law students are about as common as honest politicians or selfless celebrities these days.

But Agent Mitty didn't care. He spoke his heart, from his heart...his mind's honest thoughts. Not thinking of himself. He was thinking of another's potential.

Potential, by the way, is a scary word. One thing i refuse to be, and Lord may you strip me of everything in the way of worldly gain if i do this, is someone who brags about results. That's another story, but my pride has enough ammo of it's own...it does not need the titles some wear on their lapel, flippantly finding an abyss where they thought meaning would be, vainly assuming the adoration of their peers--who secretly harbor disrespect, resentment, and guarded animosity [and clandestine rebuke].

If i become that, dear Lord, strike me down in my pride. Forget the world, please protect my soul, dear Father.

And so far He's been protecting my life. This is what He keeps saying: if i graduate with a life secure in Him, and a life lived according to His plan, obedient, and i'm number ___ whatever, fill in the blank, He will be pleased. So long as i obey and am devoted. If, however, i graduate at the 'top of the class' but flunk life...epic fail. To quote a retreat speaker i heard recently: 'if you miss your calling your life will suck'. A bit crude, but his point is well made. In law school you can miss the forest for the trees if you're, well, if you're the average student.

He's teaching me a lot. Like, how to sleep. 8 hours/night. Sometimes 9. Rarely 6, and never less than that. No more coffee. Lots more prayer. Not 'cover my rear' prayers. Prayers for the people i can see drowning every day. Law school is a petri dish. Or, sadly, like what too many girls wear these days....you can see everything, and it's often very disturbing.

Law school is an environment where everything is magnified, everyone knows everyone's business...think small town beauty shop or hardware store with excessively boring people-- yes, that much gossip.

Ah yes...the big 17. A conference speaker mentioend the 'big 7' as being ages 18-25, where all the big decisions get made. Including marriage. Yep...that's the 'big 17' for me, i thought. got to at least go to age 35 to give me a running start. I figure, if i've had one date past the second date in 5 years, i need at least 7 years from now to give myself a deadline. And then i realize...a deadline is what i've been giving myself.

*blinks...blinks....[*slaps forehead]. Ok, more on this topic later.

I am, in truth, like a salmon. It's like i've been swimming upstream from nomadic wandering in jobs that did not challenge me to a blissful environment of skiing, Christian community, and revitalization to now, the place where God has restored my calling, my very soul....my life path. He has put me back in the stream. The right stream. I've been floundering around on the deck, flopping around like a fish [salmon] out of water [no wonder the ladies have been looking at me oddly :) ] until He placed me exactly where He wanted me to be...this entire time.

Why, dear Father, are you so patient with us? With me? Years too late...in some ways, a lifetime lived, too late, to what you had for me at least 3 years ago...?

No answer. Except love. And the page of a contracts book.

"manifestation of mutual assent" - basically, boring legal concept. However, somehow an envelope moved. I was praying. Like, for hours. This was not my doing. I was led into prayer. Despite my own depravity, obedience to that occured. Prayer happened. And by happened, i mean, i listened. God spoke. It kept coming and then words came. Poured out onto the page of my prayer pad. So, luckily, i didn't get in the way.

They came on the page. The pages went in an envelope. I was thinking...what the...?!???? What the heck is this? [God: 'it's the product of prayer. Of obedience' me: 'oh'] The envelope went into one legal book. The book went into my locker. The book stayed in my locker. I went to my car later that day. The same envelope, with the same pages, was in a book. In my car. a DIFFERENT book. A book that had been in my trunk all day.

Legally, my 'reasonable' reasoning tells me there are two options: either a) i had amnesia, b) someone played a practical joke on me, having either my locker combination and foreknowledge of the envelope being there and/or access to my locker partner and my car and....yea: option c) a small miracle occured.

When i opened the book, the top of the right page said "manifestation of mutual assent". As in, what is required for a contract. A contract between God and us. a contract between people. or any relationship. mutual assent.

That was/is the lesson for that day. For the year. For my life. Mutual assent. Not unilateral. Not selfish pride or vain conceit. Mutality. Predicated on a grace being poured out in divine power of which i have no participation other than participation. Gulp.

*paging Agent Mitty.....me: about that whole prodigy thing....that aside, you know anything about contributory participation? [yea...me neither...]

here's to finding out....

Concisely...

...law school is making me concise. I don't like this. I do, and i don't. It is channeling my words and thoughts into something more compact, fluid, useful, practical. However, the frenetic pace is threatening, or at least attempting to encroach upon, my identity, my schema for life and how it is lived. For this, i will not stand.

Law school requires sifting. It requires stability. If you don't come into it grounded, you'll be annihilated. It, like marriage, or children, or military service, or golf, is a magnifier of what is going on with your life. What is happening with me is that i am realizing that i am truly in a new place. The old motivators of fear, desire for approval, competitive edge, and thoughts of inferiority to peers are gone, washed away by waves of God's movement in my life over the years. What is left is....

...a smooth, sandy beach of unbridled and unparameterized possibilities.

This, i am finding, is perhaps the hardest thing for me to handle in life. FREEDOM.

Don't get me wrong, i handle it in relationships, socially and spiritually, and in many ways, emotionally, etc. But, intellectually...not so much. So much of my intellectual struggle has been about getting out of the cage, seeing things from a new angle, etc., that now it seems only that Ecclesiastes 12:12-13 is left...merely to obey God is the duty, the obligation. Further still, it is simply new for me to have the ability to determine and chart a new life course....a new place of love and growth and the freedom to be myself, with my mind. To love Him with all my mind, that is my aim, and privilege, and honor...

The point in your soul where repulsion and euphoria combine

7 years is the biblical number of completion. Before anyone who reads this allays in their mind arguments about my intense and specific focus on a narrow issue in life, please get this: I am relaying my experience. The reality of my circumstances. Circumstances I would give nearly everything I have in exchange to change. And yet I would not, because for some inexplicable reason God has chosen this path for my life.

This discussion is not meant to be offered as absolute truth for any issue other than the reality and totality of the circumstances of my life which, in this area, i find to be perplexing. Peculiarly so, i might add....

Tonight one of the most physically beautiful creatures I had ever seen, as of one month ago, held my hand before I knew what was happening. You could make a case it was against my will, but the reality was it was a surprise event I never saw coming. It came out of, literally nowhere, like a linebacker that crushes a receiver as he moves across the middle, focused only on the quarterback, and never seeing it coming. Words escape me when I attempt to articulate what I am feeling.

For whatever reason, tonight, the night before I fly out to be in my 15^th [that’s not a typo] wedding, I was, as usual, the ‘responsible’ one, DD-ing for no fewer than 7 people. I also was the one everyone left to be the one to find the last remaining member of our troupe, who at least two different random guys were hitting on and trying to bed throughout the night, wherever she was in the restaurant/bar. Shortly later I found her and we joined the other half-dozen of our traveling companions outside and made our way home.

But before this, a tragedy, at least to my heart, occurred. On my way out I saw a friend and began talking, whereupon a young lady slipped up next to me and put her arm in mine and announced our impending marriage, extremely flirtatiously.

I played along with good humor and laughed, hiding the anguish that began churning inside, eating away at the well-ravaged wounds in my heart which are pricked anytime someone mentions my ‘wedding’, given that at this point it appears a few trillion light-years away, while I am perennially the groomsman supporting my dear friends. Which I am humbled, honored, and glad to do. Don’t get me wrong.

But, I too, am a real man.

And when she slipped up immediately thereafter and slipped her hand in mine as I walked away, a billion sensors erupted from a place deep within my marrow which had not felt anything for 7 years. There was a place awakened I had forgotten existed. A place for a companion’s hand. In mine. The feeling was as glorious and painful and right and so-long-awaited-i-nearly-fainted-or-alternatively-erupted-in-euphroic-joy and yet it cut to the depth of my human spirit.

I want to both vomit profusely and relive the moment indefinitely. In that moment...there was nothing else in the world. Nothing else mattered. And then reality came charging back in like a putrid tsnaumi of grief, chagrin, and anquish. It was something akin to the point in 'the Matrix Revolutions' when Neo and Trinity's ship comes above the cloud-line and they glimpse real sunlight for the first time....

I have waited this long, it has stopped being about her, it’s purely an obedience issue to the One who makes the rules.

But what rules are these, my heart screams? What rules that require, apparently, divine confirmation to some lady who I have no idea who the hell even exists anymore, to perhaps permit me the pleasure of buying her lunch. There are a plethora of possibilities and steps that could always be untaken between lunch and lifelong companionship. A lunch date, at this point, seems a mere one million miles away. At least my mind can capture the idea and hold it plausible. And somewhere in there is hand-holding. A pleasure I had, blissfully, forgotten existed before this tragic night, and represents a frontier I have only crossed once before.

What more does He want? What more do Christian girls want? What about me is not good enough to give a chance to, to get to know? To give a shot? Why must they demand a perfected being, and why must the beings who set off alarm bells as being entirely temptations to me grab from me a physical gift I have been hand-holding onto for 7 years.

While i know this sounds judgmental of me, or presumptuous, or whatever, please know that i mean this with an interrogative tone and nothing more or less than that. I am simply stumped. I've prayed for sleep and He's given it to me. Until last night. There is much in me that simply is attempting to follow the Bottomly's advice of moving toward simple and basic maturation in life, and when i do that, i find an immensely significant hurdle which confounds me. Hence, my attempts to make sense of the nonsensical, of the incomprehensible barriers to the natural progression of my life's path.

I cannot sleep. I cannot think straight. There is a part of me that has been awakened…it is as if that hand held an electric shock. Life not taken out of me, but jolted, which I begged and pleaded and threw myself before God to put asleep nearly two years ago. And He graciously did. May He yet again. I will be ripping my clothes in sackcloth and ashes until He does. I may throw myself against His throne with vigor and oblivousness to the pain of hitting the foot of it, time and again, until He does. Someone give me another choice and I’ll take it. It is the only way I know, and was graciously an idea I borrowed from Jim and Elisabeth Elliot.

And in the meantime, the depths of my soul inquire, how many more miles are left in this desert, merciful Lord? And will I make it out alive? Will all passion have perplexingly or peculiarly perished?

Magnanimous Malibu, a MarioKart Maniac, and the Movies' Martin

i really hope i'm better at law school than i am at Halo and MarioKart. a friend's oldest son, who is a 5-year-old, beat me mercilessly at the latter. Two lovely ladies beat me at the former, even more mercilessly. Well, i actually won one race against the kid. I got second once at Halo, but it was definitely a fluke. Of course, it doesn't help that i tend to get distracted by one of the halo ladies. She walked up when i was playing chess against someone better than me. At the time i was winning. Then i saw her. And lost. In 4 moves.

This is indeed how God has designed women...to captivate our attention as men. Somehow i feel. Stifled. Let me explain. There is not a lot wrong with my life at the moment [which somewhat concerns me, i might add], as i'm starting a dual degree program at Pepperdine, which God has provided in an abundantly generous way. I'm living as cheaply as one can in Malibu, less than a mile from Zuma beach. I've got meat from our ranch on the way, and just bought a grill for the backyard, and an external freezer will be coming soon. I'm living with 2 superb roomates, and couldn't ask for a better academic situation, going into school.

Yet i cannot focus on anything involving strategy when she is around. Now, i don't necessarily mean she in an uber-specific/exclusive sense [don't worry, if you might be reading this, 10]. What i mean is, a woman that captivates my attention. She's not the first to do this, though there haven't exactly been a plethora. I suppose what i'm really grappling with is, after reading a most thought-provoking article in Christianity Today is, how does one cope with life being stifled? I was encouraged and relieved at the brashness and honesty of the article, which at last acknowledged the waiting game our culture's youth are playing with relationships. It is a near impossible paradox to wait so long for relationships and squelch all the normal human desires God hard-wired us with. I suppose that is what has me feeling curious....i was not captivated in a sexual way, rather in a pure way, by beauty, as it should be. As God designed. Yet there is a stifling in another way. Stifling and sleeping in one sense and yet a setting loose in that my attention is no longer entirely mine.

Whatever the case, playing MarioKart with the pint-sized fury with quick thumbs is going to keep me sane and focused on what's really important: life. and children. and He who made us all with equal love. i think we're going to play about once a month, so i would imagine i'll get a sobering reminder each time, praise Him for His sense of humor...

Regardless of whether God gives me back my full attention or not, i am becoming increasingly aware that i am in love with Ms. Malibu. As in, the city herself. I love this place, and have already canvassed the surrounding area for the wholesale places where provisions can be had for rates equitable to all national stores :) Now i just have to find a few more related expense-savers and i just might get through here. It sure is worth the effort, that's for sure. I had fish tacos and a Tecate last night while listening to waves crash not ten yards away, on the rocks just behind Duke's. Then we walked outside and saw Martin Landau on our way out of the place....

Log cabin-building two miles high.....

Like the fabric and threads of this old mattress cover, God has been stitching together time, experiences, relationships, events, thoughts, feelings, and a plethora of components out of which he has, and is weaving, a life. Which, the Psalmist says is like a “fleeting vapor” that moves over blades of grass. The mattress cover is because every night there is a 15-degree caliber sleeping bag on top of an old mattress and mattress cover. Basically it’s like camping, except for you can’t see the stars as you sleep…instead you see spiders on the wooden ceiling.

And here the grass is everywhere. Greenery abounds, nearly as expansive as the sprawling sky. Trees are ubiquitous…there is the majesty of a mountain range perpetually present. You awake [no alarm needed here] with the sun and walk out on the wooden porch to view the continental divide as a backdrop for pine trees towering like soldiers in an expansive array. Spanning the entire view of such a grand panaroma, it reminds me of the ‘Lord of the Rings’ scenes with soliders as far as the eye can grasp.

These soldiers keep the peace. And quiet. It is as if there is no one else. Solitude. And so God has chosen, it seems, this setting, this work, and these people to illustrate how much like this mattress cover I am. How—benevolent. God is good.

And yet if I am injured, or anyone, death is probable. The nearest hospital or care is one hour at least. God—made mountains. He made us. The risk…a risk. The real question—what is with these rewards?! The moment I parked my car and got in Clint’s 4x4 truck I was home. [It takes 20-30 minutes on a 4x4 or 4-wheeler to access the construction site]. We began winding through the rock-filled path covered by trees and I just knew. This is—paramount.

Literally on the way here I picked up all the clothing I would need. $18.95 at Goodwill pretty much covered it. I borrowed Danny’s hat and winter coat and 3 pairs of Brandon’s work gloves at the last minute because Clint neglected to mention that it was, o….26 degrees in the morning hours. I sleep in my sleeping bag, wearing sweats and a sweatshirt as well, in the [warmest part of the cabin] loft of Clint’s father’s cabin.

Doug [Clint’s father] is a distinguished and extremely consistent mathematics professor who lived in a tent for 9 weeks in 1975 to build the cabin we all rest in now, while constructing Clint’s cabin. His new best friend is Gumbie, a member of the 19th place Iditarod team and 9th place Yukon Quest mushers last year. He yawns at me. It’s warm here for him, very warm…he’s best when its between zero and negative ten. Everytime we cook dinner he jumps up on the porch’s side chair and we see Alaskan Huskie face peering at us through the front cabin window.
Ah yes—dinner. Or lunch. Is—masculine. Primal, really. Breakfast is oatmeal, straight coffee, and for me—a banana. Gumbie sniffs. Lunch the past well, every day actually, has been a tortilla with peanut butter smeared on it, and chips, and a few cookies. Why, you ask?

Because this entire endeavor is entirely about masculinity and how it is bestowed.

Joel—the master builder who arrives tomorrow—worked Clint and his friend for many summers and lunch was a tortilla and PB&J. End of discussion.
Tomorrow we’re having leftover tacos. You might say I’m the straw the stirs the drink. Clint tells me that anyway…has for ten years. There are no schedules here, no daytimers. No one wears a watch. [Which is ironic for me]. Perhaps that is why God’s voice thunders in the silence here…?

We have begun each morning with the arduous task of giving 300-500 lb. logs a haircut using a device consisting of a lawnmower blade curved and attached to handles which Clint prefers not to use. I, on the other hand, do use them. My lat’s hate me. All ours do, except perhaps Clint’s. But he’s not human and may have synthetic or metallic lat’s, I’m not sure yet. It’s probably equivalent to a few thousand reps on some weight machine. I drink my protein shake out of a red plastic cup and stirred with a plastic utensil….which is the one item from a grocery store I bought: 99 cent assorted pack of plastic silverware from Safeway.

We get one radio station. There is one outhouse. There is one bathtub [circa 1975]. You can get a hot bath on occasion. I’ve had 2 in 5 days. I have yet to shave. But I immediately switch to my regular eyeglasses out of my work ones every night. To me that is where the decompression begins and my muscles cease their screaming.

This is the first night I have written or read anything. Somehow that feels so....right. I have simply been….absorbing. Getting acquainted with just how massive and expansive God is and how miniscule I really am.

And how healthy nature truly is. And how Gumbie looks when he’s inquisitive, or hungry, or detecting [he misses nothing]. And how to properly rip ¼ inch to ½ inch of bark rapidly from something older than my grandparents and which could crush me without feeling it.
In short, I have been living life. In the raw.

Gumbie’s gone, and I missed him the moment he left. Which now strikes me as odd, considering he is a bit of a snob, but only because he has yet to be socialized to more than the one human, who, all his life, has fed him meat on the trail. But God has taught me that its ok to not please people, and partially through this incredible athlete of an Alaskan Huskie, too. He’s very skittish, and as predictable as a Swiss watch. Sometimes Doug [his owner now] is slightly mean and whispers “hike,” which is the equivalent of a racecar driver turning the ignition.

Poor Gumbie starts up and is ready to mush, and alertly looks around, somewhat confused. He is very alert—never misses anything. I think he should be a detective in his new life. New life—ah yes, indeed, this is the place to find it—or perhaps death. I’ve never lived as great a proportion of my day at risk of serious injury or even death. There is a giant log-moving machine and a fork-lift/skid loader buzzing around, often swinging logs that, if the clasp slips, could crush you. It takes four of us, straining, to move them a few measly feet once on the cabin floor. There’s 3-4 chainsaws always going at once, and I had one close call when it hit a knot and jumped back at me. At my face. And I got my hand mashed between two logs early on, but thankful it was during a manmade move, had it been the forklift I might have a mangled paw.

Speaking of that…did you hear the one about the dog who walked into a bar with his guns drawn? He simply said “I’m looking for the man who shot my pa(w).” But I assure you, this corny joke is much better than most of the crude ones told up here.

My buddy Clint is the owner/project manager/engineer of this cabin. He is a Christian, and lives like it. Everyone else is quite crude most of the time. The thing is, he grew up in the land of beer, lewd jokes, ‘roughing it,’ and other activities derived primarily to prove the level of ones’ testosterone glands. Then, freshman year at college, he and I met in the most difficult course at the university, according to many. We started discussing God, the Bible, and most often—great authors we had both read. After enough C.S. Lewis, Dostoyevsky, etc. he finally said—‘o.k. Matt, come with me to the bookstore. I want a Bible with nothing but God’s words in it—no crap in there.’ We went, he read. [His best buddy is an Army Ranger who read the entire bible and then merely shrugged it off.] But not Clint. He was baptized a few weeks later. A few years later Clint’s parents professed Christ as Lord and Savior. Their story makes me understand a little bit better those parts in Scripture when it says ‘…and his/her entire household believed,” as if that is to be expected….

Today was largely what I came up here for; after a hard day of work, we knocked off a bit early, Clint of course peeled two logs on his own, and I went to town for an hour of phone calls, and to drop a few postcards in the mail. Then, after hot dogs and green beans/baked beans combined for dinner, it was authentic and meaningful conversation about God, life, family, truth, and other things that last, had over a half-fifth of Johnny Walker and Monte Cristo cigars.

Clint and I shared some things we never knew about each other—about our families, our manhood, our fathers. And before I forget, I must remind myself—I need to read M. Scott Peck’s “the Road Less Traveled” about love, and a poem by Andrew Marvell [concerning a certain lady in my life, I’m told]. Tonight was interesting—when we came in it was 10:10, also the label left in Clint’s empty cigar tube was ‘discovery.’ That has certainly summed it up for me…this has been a ‘10’ experience, and I’ve had thoughts of a ’10,’ as well. I have discovered much about life, about love, and about doing 60 mph on the road in a 4-wheeler and 30 mph on the trail….

Log cabins are like pregnancies

Is that my most irrational-sounding blog title yet? Probably so. God has me at that place where i'm looking down the mountain, so to speak, at all He's done in my life in the past year. At the same time, there is a fire in my belly and zest in my blood that has me earnestly looking toward the future. The most immediate portion of that future is building a log cabin, by hand, with a friend of mine and a few of his family members starting next Tuesday. The state of the cabin is this...it has a clean foundation, with nothing on it. It is waiting to be give life, structure, design, personality...

....just like a newborn. It is no coincidence that Jesus used, when talking to perhaps his most challenging conversationalist [Nicky, in John 3], the metaphor of pregnancy for the spiritual process. Planning for the log cabin-building stage of my life has made me realize how much effort God went to to annihilate everything out of my life and start over with a 'newborn' foundation. Exactly one year ago, he was beginning to build on a stone cold empty foundation. How life has changed.

So yeah, i think Log cabins are just like pregnancies...they start with a clean slate. Furthermore, they require patience, persistence, and planning. It's going to be hard work. And you know it in advance.

The spiritual life is no exception. I have been feeling lately as if i have been doing something wrong...while i think i am rusty, i have been resting. But most of the answer God gives me cycles back to the fact that...

i have been living parts of my childhood that got omitted, in many ways, the past year.

Its been humbling to accept, but its true. There is nothing wrong with that, as long as i transition out of that stage starting in 60 days. Its a good thing....it is the natural part of my life that has been supressed, coming out. Sort of like a new life coming out of its mother. You can't keep it in, even though it is young, undaunted, and in need of maturation.

We all have our areas in need of rebirth....may His true life well up in us and might we be constructed with the solidarity, sound footing, majesty, and rustic appeal that a log cabin can offer. May others find shelter, warmth, comfort, and love within the cabin walls of our hearts, souls, and minds....

might we love Him with our all. That is all there is.

When you have nothing left, and therefore nothing left to lose...

....then life begins. I used to think i knew God, knew what life was and is about. Then that got shattered. Then a friend died. Then it got shattered again. Then my grandfather died, shattered 3.0. Then in November basically the wheels began to come off, as my other grandfather--to whom i was quite close--died. It wasn't until the past week or so that the pieces have begun to come back together again.

I realized how much I'd gained that wasn't really anything, and yet i thought i had--opportunities, scholarships, material possessions, friendships, connections, new experiences and people to know. These are all substantial, yes, but they are, how to put it....accessories along our journey. We each are to pick up our cross and follow Him. All else be damned.

This has been difficult for me to swallow, being in such a resting place, a place of restoration and healing. Yet I begin to wonder, having nothing left....that state can remain, even as things are added to steward, to enjoy, to pay it forward and bless others with.

I've been realizing one core truth lately...i reacted with increased volatility to losing my grandfather, and only now, looking back with hindsight can i see that this altered my decision making process and made me panic...not about him or my family's reaction, but instead i channeled the panic into other areas of life. Which actually may have had life-changing consequences. Lovely. But God is faithful where i am fearful, and falliable, and ferociously frenetic and flallingly failing. Because that is what it feels like now, now that I can see what i did and why i did it and how blind i was to reality right in front of me. And the past wounds touched by dealing with losing someone....somehow these are conjured by adversity.

And so i need to react more calmly...but this is merely a result. The core truth is i need to trust the character of who God actually is...the real God, not who i limit in my conception of him with my puny and feeble human brain. And i need to listen to Him more. He knows a lot. And the future. And our pasts, and our hurts, and our pain and joy. Its amazing what can happen when you incline your ear to hear His voice.

Next post....what i'm learning about the importance of this challenge: "what do i have to offer"?

And something else i learned over the past few months....change happens. And things broken can be mended. It does, however, require a little thing called trust in not only God, but also the best in people. Silly me.

So my hiatus from blogging wasn't in the multiple months category this time. Truth is, i've had my brain turned off for quite a while. Which is usually a good thing, I suppose. I've been experiencing a confluence of events, emotions, and energy which is all wonderful, truth be told, and yet hectic. I don't have much to offer you at the moment, and i suppose, that is what i have to offer. Sometimes we don't have zilch, we just are what we are, and thats it.

And that is always enough for God. In His word He speaks of faith as being a qualitative thing--just have a miniscule bit and that is enough. That is all He needs. He can make large meals out of crumbs. He just needs SOMETHING to work with. And i think in large part that is the lesson of the scripture as a whole, as long as we give Him something, He'll do the rest. Its when we doubt, starting thinking we're not enough, or especially, that He's not enough, that we find ourselves not that much farther from betraying Him, forsaking Him, forgetting about Him.

So if you find yourself doubting, or wondering where God is, remember...it could be that He's there and ready to intervene in your life, He just needs something from you to multiply. So give Him your crumbs, your tears, your sorrows, your time, and your fears. He's big enough to make a lot out of a little.

Party like its 2009, and the renewal of my life's firmest pledge

This post is a shout-out to Jacob and Eva, the best party-throwers i have ever met, and perhaps, even better friends. There are a few people i have met who, during the course of having the privilege to know them, at some point confront me with the realization that they really care about me. Or i should more correctly say, i have underestimated my value to them as friends.

So Eva planned 3 nights of parties in a row, including a day-long event that started at a brewery and involved guns, ammunition, and hitting golf balls all over the place. It also featured a blow-out at 75 mph with 7 people in an older Suburban and ended with the most redundant movie known to man ['Ray']. And then we added a hot-tub and cigar celebration for a fourth straight night...it was probably the most relaxing weekend of my entire life.

And one of the top 5 weekends of my entire life. I don't ever think i've felt so appreciated.


And it made me realize that my friends are enhanced and enriched by my life. It was a 'george bailey' moment, and it suddenly dawned on me that i am important to more than just the odd person here or there.

the lie the enemy has been telling me is that because God has not yet put a woman in my life this must not be the case. i have a really hard time with that one...perhaps the hardest time. but i've had a few 'eureka!' moments, and while they are quite unwelcome, they have conveyed truth. The first one was a few years ago, after a particularly difficult stretch of resisting temptation, a la Joseph and Potiphar's wife. [there really is only just one way--run].

i was questioning God and was in a random shopping mall, in a place for either the first or second time in my life. i had been [cowardly, i might add] asking Him for a sign...something, anything, to let me know He was there and actually cared i was fighting this battle to preserve His gifts in me and for someone i do not yet know. there, suddenly, when i looked to my right, was a card, on it a verse written..."darkness may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning". Not a tract. Nothing but shabbily scrawled words. That were for me.

I have never found something like that before, or seen it, etc. I took it and went home to the end-table where i have the contract i signed regarding sexual purity as a teenager and a purity keychain that was a gift i greatly prize. something welled up in me that was definitely good, but definitely forceful and driven by a fire that isn't necessarily 'nice', but is good. without really knowing what i was doing, like i was watching myself do it, i took my favorite knife and plunged it into the end-table, pinning the verse-inscribed card into the table and the contract.

it was almost like that act, and the knife, killed the last remnants of second-guessing and weakness that could lead to my cowardly retreat. from that moment i knew...i might die in this battle. i might have to.

and then it happened again. i'll save you the descriptions and explainations leading up to this, but suffice it to say that i took my favorite workout/sleep shirt and wrung it in my hands. i had been doubting lately, WHY WHY WHY am i doing this? Why am i waiting? is she waiting for me? does she even exist?

then suddenly the thought, which did not originate from me but compelled the vortex of my soul to, with all the force in me, drove me to take my youth-group-abstinence-rally t-shirt and put it on as if it were a suit of armor. and make the commitment to put that armor on every day until i die. it isn't about me. it isn't even about her anymore. its just about obedience. doing what God says....even if it kills me. or makes my life an excruciating agony because of the actions of others.

i, for one, will not be guilty of not taking a stand, of doing nothing, while evil men abound and prosper in their actions. i would encourage you to do the same...in all aspects of life. it is only the grace of God that has strengthened me in this one area of life, and i pray His purposes are fulfilled, regardless of my fate on this temporal planet.

What all action movies have in common with the stock market...

Timing, they say, is everything. I've been thinking about this since watching the stock market bottom out at 6500 and hearing really smart financiers that run large corporations speak (in person) lately [one secular, one Christian...both profitable in bearish times]. If i were in a relationship, or already in school, either way, i would be investing in the stock market. But i'm not, so i'm not. Its a timing issue.
[i'm about as weird as they come, and without either of those components in life, i would be a day-trading maniac were i to get in now, and ironically, winning might be the worst thing for me right now in life]. So i wait.

It's kind of like in an action movie--if you think about it, everything goes down to the last-possible-split-second-heroic-action, which, if any one of about 176485 variables were changed in the slightest at any point in the movie, would result in catastrophic failure instead. It's all about the timing.

I've also heard a lot of people talk lately about how 'God's timing is perfect.' I agree with that statement on its face value, but i'm not sure they're using it correctly. I feel like its a cop-out. 'Hey Bob, you just showed up 27 minutes late....ah yes...but God's timing is perfect.' Bob's timing, obviously, is not. Neither is mine for most things in life. 'Ah, yes, Matthew, but you've learned so much in the latent times and periodic delays in your life,' i hear people say. Yeah, maybe.

OR MAYBE I SCREWED UP BIGTIME!?

Perhaps its just Colorado Springs, living in a bubble of veritable bliss and organic paradise of all things spiritual and conservative, but life to me feels like people have lost a sense of urgency that is easily covered up by the catch-all perfection of God's timing.

I think we should instead start viewing it as, assuming we chalk it up to the flawless harmonic precision of the Divine Being's nature, Him graciously working out plans for His glory in spite of us being late, early, fitting, starting, and generally screwing things up.

I'm not saying we always get it wrong, but we don't always get it right, either. There are things that people approve and smile upon as if they please God when in reality, we should be questioning them. God does indeed have a season for everything, perfect timing under Heaven, and He is Sovereign. However, He is not the grand master of puppets and we are left to our own devices in many ways. And many times, our devices do not operate in as close accordance with His will and nature as our timing devices that govern our routines, daily Starbucks runs, and workout sessions...they are hardly hallmarks of mechanical precision....

Landing and Taking Off in a Crowded Sky

So i am hoping that Elle Woods the Fox News Legal Analyst will be my blogging accountability partner, as i told her she should blog and catch us all up on life during and after her vacation with her significant other. I have let this slip for about three weeks, and yet I wonder....is anyone reading?

And then i realize, that is not why I must write, in a variety of venues and avenues. Words must be released from the soul just as water must flow through a dam. For whatever reason, i feel God has blessed me with recall and memory and good retention, but this can be a curse, for it enables me to wait too long and catch up all at once.

I used the phrase 'linguistic usurpation' today. Actually i misspoke and said ursurpation, and i realized, it has been too long since i read Shakespeare [act i of the Tempest on the I-pod en route from Memphis to DC doesn't count]. Truthfully, i realized how much i love words. And actually, how i've missed the more exquisite ones lately. I hope they have missed me as well.

Alright, enough of my meandering aimlessly through cyberspace....airplane runways: one of the most introspection-inducing books i've read is by a man who lost his wife, his ministry, and pretty much all hope and faith in anything at one point in his life. He wrote a 'fiction'al account of one of his closest friends/client's life [he is a Christian psychologist, this author] in which one of the lines stunned me for how real and analagous to my own life it is: "you are like a pilot who can do anything he wants once flying, but has no idea how to take off or land." the man he is referring to had an excess of activity in his life, but was going down a road of insanely high expectations, no 'margin' in his life, and was having heart problems.

this is exactly where i was headed before coming to Focus.

As I've been literally taking off and landing at seemingly every airport in the country lately, i've been hearing this quote echo back in my cranium again and again. I've recently taken off, and landed, successfully. What i mean by that is that i'm finally back in a rountine, and have gone from living a 'normal life' to traveling 24-7, and back again. It might not sound like much, but it's been quite significant.

That's all i got, and i suppose its not much...at least, not to anyone else. For me, this is a corner i have not been able to turn for years. I think sometimes God lets us go long seasons before things change, so we'll appreciate them more.

i just couldn't wait....

....because technically it's already Tuesday and i can't sleep. That's what i get for catching up on sleep this weekend. And i am remembering that i duly love writing, in nearly any form. and before i say this, let me say, life has been relatively painless lately. Even when i think its going to hurt, it never does as much as i expect...and that has me worried that my soul is perhaps succombing to the novacaine of this world...

What is life without pain? It's like the sky without the rain.

That's a song lyric from my early years, but i think it goes to the heart of a deeper problem. Perhaps 'problem' isn't the right word, but to quoth the Matrix, it's like there is something wrong that you just can't put your finger on, but something isn't right.....

The closest i've come is a lack of adversity. I've been wondering if that is what the 'American Dream' has come to....affluence and apathy absent adversity? [no charge for the alliteration, but you can tip your waitress if you like]. Seriously, though...is that what everyone wants? It's hit me as i've been told how much coin i could be reeling in after school, and how God gifts people to make money.

And while i believe that is true, i wonder, if we are faithing in the paper on which we have pasted 'in God we trust' and suddenly the rug is being pulled out from under us and used to cover the immense waste being swept into the finances of our future and that of our children's, i am left inquiring....what about an example of death to money? Where is the antidote to the sedated materialism of the masses?

We'll i suppose i'm rambling, but i have been observing how a lack of adversity sways my decisions and in essence, my life's course. I feel i've been insulated for too long. In truth i feel like Bond when he's ripping the hospital cords off himself and climbing out of the place in 'Die Another Day.' Maybe he's not fully healed yet...but i'm ready to get back into action.

Many friends around here have seemed to tell me the same things when we diagnose the situation of ourselves and those around us: this is a holding tank of sorts, for many it means something different and unique, for many it is perpetual bliss, and for nearly everyone it is outside reality, or at the very least, a suspended moment in time. Perhaps they are all correct, or perhaps they and i are greviously erroneous. Whatever the case, i do know this time and circumstance has had its purpose, and the Grand Architect has an infinitude of knowledge with resonance beyond the most distant horizon and beneath the most cavernous sea beneath....

My only conclusion is "to everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." [Eccl. 3:1]

taxidermy for the body and soul, and a driveway you cannot park in...

This post covers essentially the past weekend and today, my first normal monday and workday in quite a while. In case she's reading this, Elle Woods the *ahem* Fox News Legal analyst and my current supervisor, i appreciate your generous understanding of my globetrotting ways and topsy-turvy life as i endure the most horribly inefficient and red-tape-stuffed process known to man. I know you understand, because you have gone through it. Eventually i may heed your warnings to run screaming in the other direction. But it was good to be back and actually building momentum of productivity. I know you are so very proud of me :)

This of course happened after i drove all the way from north of the springs, where i live, to the south side of town...and was promptly informed that the woodpile we were about to move [i had the morning off to do manual charitable labor] was held up by...you guessed it...lawyers. stinking lawyers. you know the joke...what do you call all the lawyers in the world put at the bottom of the sea? a good thing. [they of course would be wearing scuba gear...don't worry]
...sooooo i wheeled around and drove all the way back home, being as i was dressed like a lumberjack. I don't think the Focus dress code would like me throwing a tie on over my gray hoodie and flannel shirt and torn up jeans. Hmmm....maybe i should have tried that.

speaking of leaving things as they are in the interest of efficiency.....one of my Wharton School recommenders wants to be sent to the taxidermist when he dies, instead of creamated. I am not kidding. First of all, you must understand that Bobby Fischer the Chemist Inventor Idea Machine is not your typical individual. For one, he's probably one of the most brilliant people walking the planet. Second, he invents things. For fun. Things that turn into multi-bazillion dollar products, i'm pretty sure. The man has over 200 patents, and companies the world over have his sweet wife to thank for kicking him out of the house for at least four hours a day so he'll continue to come share his gift with them. She is to be eternally blessed for putting up with him [he is, how shall i delicately put this....a firecracker?] Problem is, he invents things at home too...just sitting around and thinking stuff up. He sits on the recliner and reads....patents. Not the newspaper...high technology patents. Probably understands them better than lawyers paid thousands of dollars an hour to write them, too.

He's simply my friend. On my Wharton recommendation forms, when they ask for 'relation to recommender,' i skipped past 'teacher,' 'supervisor,' 'mentor,' and 'employer' and just put "friend."

Anyway....somehow he's proud of me. How this works i shall never understand. My father is one of his best friends, and he somehow thinks i make him proud....he's won major awards and inventor-of-the-universe-for-2007 or something like that, and single-handedly propelled market moves of major corporations, i would guess....and wait, he thinks i'm the one who hung the moon???...nevermind.

He wants to be taxidermied. [is that a verb?] i'm dead [pun intended] serious. He keeps acting like he's going to die soon, which is crap, and my dad keeps 'ordering' him to work until age 100. The man is in his 70's and his mind is still quicker than greased lightning. So my dad comes to him the other day and says "Doc" [they each call each other Doc], you aren't going to get creamated, your wife and i are going to send you to the taxidermist and we'll sit you in the halls so you can continue to inspire other employees.

a few days later....the wunderkind assents! He wants to be stuffed and put on display to improve company morale??? Well...maybe he just wants to be put on display. The man has said more blunt and honest and holy-crap-did-he-just-say-that-in-a-meeting? things to captains of industry than well...than there are taxidermists in the South. Does anyone else find it comical that one of the most brilliant minds created by our Soverign God is talking about his body being processed in the same place where Bubba and Jim-Bo bring their yearly deer or two every thanksgiving?

well...moving on...speaking of animals...we have a one-ton pet named 'Monk.' Seriously. He is an angus bull that was raised as an orphan by our ranch foreman's wife. She is basically Doctor Doolittle meets Mother Goose and i swear she talks to the animal when we're not looking, and they probably understand each other. But seriously, because little Monk had no bovine mother, she became imprinted on his psyche as mom. So....even today, when he's not so little anymore [he is about 2200 lb. and the dominant bull no matter who you put him with], she can walk out there in the pasture and he'll eat out of her hand and you'd swear he's a puppy dog. That is the size of a Honda.

Well....i'm thinking of parking him in our driveway. At our new place, which is really nice and a great community, mind you, you can't park in your own driveway apparently. I have yet to figure out which genius dreamed this up, but you must park all vehicles in the garage. Hmmm....3 guys, each with one car....a 2-car garage....yea, lawyers can't do math, apparently. I'm sure there's some 'reasonable' explaination....like, it disturbs the asthetic beauty or breaks community monotony or actually serves the purpose driveways were created for?!?!? Cmon people! Seriously! You can't park in your own driveway?

Well i'm thinking of parking my pet 'Monk' in the driveway for a few days. I see people walking their dogs and they can go in the driveway...i see cats running in the driveway....why not Monk? How many dogs do you know that can give rides to 6 small children at a time? [yes, my Mother uses him to entertain her pre-school class each year, and yes...Monk is the most gentle pet ever, i am not kidding....these kids' mothers know about this and know he's entirely safe]. I rest my case.

Taxidermy for the soul....i think thats what these people need. Which, this is a tangent, but i think that is what is happening to many of us, and perhaps America as a whole. You know...the outer appearance seems the same and unchanging, but the root insides are removed and replaced with vacuous white cotton stuffing....

Am i an imposter?

I have been wondering that since i landed in Denver after flying from Dallas...my buddy Peter Gibbons [that's from Office Space, if you're unaware] the Babe-Magnet picked me up from the airport and referred to me as something on the order of a businessman. I was dressed in a suit, and talking on my bluetooth, i think that's why. The thing is....i talk on my bluetooth so my cell phone doesn't fry my brain and the convenient device only costs me 20 bucks [thanks to Circuit City's recent, ahem, woes].

The suit? Well, i went to Pepperdine and they made me check a bag because my suit cover counted as a carry on. So i just started wearing the suit each day i travel...why not? i'm single, after all [perhaps this is why i am single? wait...don't answer that]. But it got me thinking....am i really am who i say i am? [i can hear jared now...."you are who you thought they said i was"...its an inside joke...don't worry about it unless u saw the Dennis Green press conference after his Arizona Cardinals choked against a pathetically-playing Chicago Bears team a few years ago].

But i think that is what my good friend Will Ferrell/Jon Stewart the Conservative Talk Show Host is really getting at--authenticity. He finds the substance beneath the surface, and often uses humor to display his findings. He wants to know what people are really about, what places and institutions believe...and unlike myself, has a less direct and painful way of going about it.

So i wonder....am i who Peter Gibbons thought i was? Am i really going to be a professional adult soon enough? I suppose my business right now is forecasting potential for success in a venture that usually costs 150K or so [or 0.00000000873% of the stimulus package], and exploring and seeking opportunities for that immense funding being provided out of a university's endowment.
That is business, i suppose.

but i ain't got nuthin' yet, as the saying goes. I'm like the College Football Playoff--its got potential, but it still has to occur.

don't get me wrong, i feel fine about things. But i've been in a holding pattern for a year, and well...as we were cruising down I-70 in his Acura SUV i was reminded....God made me more than a device that can procure posh leather seats and timeshares and big-name clients or political endorsements. And i am more than the sum of my bank account and accomplishments listed on my resume.

the question is...since I claim Him and to be His....am i for real?

a most unusual transition day...

....i drove and stayed at my grandmother's, and had some extremely fortunate events propel me further south to Dallas, where i then met a good friend of mine [DT, are you reading this?] Doc Holliday the Magnanimous Mastermind. Ok, i know, you're not a space engineer. This man definitely understands me....when i got on facebook he was bewildered at the length of my 'information' section and recently asked for a 'cliff's notes' version of my blog. I think it would go something like:

March 2 - Dach...i'm at Pepperdine
March 3 - hey DT, there's a big ocean out here.
March 4 - i'm sleeping in Colorado....
March 12 - i'm catching lots of fish
March 13 - no, really, DT, they are actual FISH....i'm not woman-hunting like you always try to insinuate even when i'm like reading a book in a library or something
March 14 - seriously!?!? i'm in an actual boat....reeling in rainbow trouts of all sizes!

Well you get the picture. He thinks i'm girl-crazy because i talk about women...like...at all. The truth is, he is the mastermind between the two us, not me, and if ladies were more observant, they'd be clamoring to go out on the town with him even though he finds them to be the most mysterious and fascinating things in the world [zip it...i know you do].

You know the quiet person that if you pay attention, you realize knows more than most everyone in the room. Yea, that's him. But he's too humble and diligent for his own good, i think...and women usually gravitate toward the most loud and boisterous specimens among us carnivores....but that is another subject and blog post....

then i went and stayed at the same place i had last time i was in Dallas. it hadn't changed much, the remodeling has been on hold for quite a while. i learned a lot in just a few hours--about how far i had come. about how gracious God is to bring me mercy, and growth, and grace. you see, when i lived there a short year ago.....i felt like the house.

You know...foundation in need of repair, carpet non-existent. Working appliances, but a hole in the closet wall and a wall-less room in one corner of the house. A storage room that was nicer than the living room, but the potential to turn the entire thing into something wonderful.

And i realized, as Tim Allen the Consistent and Dependable Construction Worker and i drank all flavors of coffee, that God has indeed turned something desolate and run-down and abandoned into something of value, worth, and in parts--beauty. He is the great master mechanic of the soul, and somehow knows just what is needed to rebuild our lives when we've lost them amidst the swirling seas of strife or simply lost it all--and abandoned hope.

You see, CW is not really Tim Allen. He's smart, capable, and a man who cares for people, purely and simply. He's a man who's been through hell....at least twice, i'm pretty sure, but you wouldn't know it, because he greets you with a smile and asks how you're doing. And he really means it. He just cares about people, not for what they can do for him, but just because they are breathing. Because God made them.

God used CW and DT in my life in ways they, nor i, may not ever understand.

Reunion, of sorts...

....so we got home friday night and Mom was in Houston, so that meant it was basically two bachelors watching college basketball conference tournaments. You have to remember, my father still has the sleep schedule of a college freshman. No one's told him he's eligible for social security in less than a decade.

It was alright, but i must admit it was a drain for me. I could not wait to squeeze in 9 holes of golf that afternoon with my cousin Daniel Day-Lewis the Oilman and his children, along with Dad. I couldn't wait because I couldn't wait to get on the road and meet my friends in 'the city' [thats what people in oklahoma call Oklahoma City] for a cookout. i was the 9th wheel.

it was interesting...i had been brought there before, to that place, being a 2(x) + 1 wheel, with x representing any number of couples, married or nearly-there. it was a placed i had grown to detest, like a perpetual feeling that something was inerently wrong with me. this time was different. i felt like me again.

it was a fun time and i got to see some folks i hadn't in a while, and might not until eternity, who knows. then i stopped and saw a lawyer friend of mine before beginning my journey to the Dallas airport. technically these events ran from saturday into sunday.

The long way around can be the new one

So we packed up and left amid a 'late' start. Late, for my great-uncle Marlon Brando the Welding Business Owner, is anything past about when chickens rise and cows are being milked by dairy farmers that put in a good four hours before the sun comes up. What is ironic about this is that i had fallen asleep about 10:30 pm and woke at 4:30, with no alarm. I got lots done and was ready to roll even before he was. I specifically remember waking up and saying to myself "this is what normal people do," as in, get up around the time that i am often making myself go to sleep.

So we pack up the mobile restaurant-and-anything-i-would-ever-need-for-the-next-nine-years and begin driving. This is where the revolution began. The brand-new Yukon has GPS, which my benevolent elder duly enjoys. However, i'm not sure that he ever has used it on long trips, nor has it ever disagreed with him. By the way, here is a tangent: i know why all GPS have female voices--because men listen to them and most likely are soothed by them. Besides, no guy, when navigating, is EVER going to listen to another man's voice telling him to turn right on route 73 when the driver himself is positive beyond a shadow of a doubt you're supposed to go left when you see the red BBQ joint on the right. Women, on the other hand, have no problem trusting other womens' advice--and this is no exception on the road. This principle also explains why Oprah commands a near-cult following and any book she touches turns to gold. I'm convinced she could proclaim arsenic a good thing and millions of housewives would be serving it to their children.

But--moving on...the GPS directed us, of course, since we asked for it, the quickest way home. This meant going through a mountain pass which my great-uncle had never traversed. It was, of course, the most expedient path, and we soon were booking at a nice pace on the highway toward home. There was clear debate...the elders thought this was in error, since of course on mountain switchbacks our efficiency is decreased. I trusted the technology's knowledge of all road systems, and was merely calculating our highway time based on the 'miles to destination' display on the in-dash navigation system.

We of course made it home in less time than it took us to arrive by a different route, and the GPS was true to its word. This is not to say technology is to be trusted [i actually believe quite the opposite], but only that it is alright to change from 'the way we have always done things' or 'the route we've always taken.' There is more than one way to do things, and at some point, the older must heed that the younger might indeed have valuable input.

The other part of this intruiging journey was that it was long and difficult at first, and required patience. But then we were soon shooting on a 280-mile straight-shot section of I-40 with no stop signs or tributaries of traffic. Sometimes son knows best, but anyway....

i suppose i was surprised at the trip's content. there was a clear diffraction between those from Oklahoma and well....me. not that i haven't spent time there...i have. but to me the world is bigger than that...more importantly....God is larger than the version i was acquainted with when i lived in Oklahoma.

I do not believe this means anything other than my next step does not lie in the south. The effect though, i believe, was why my future was scarcely discussed and other than a few scant comments, you'd never know that God is pouring blessings out on me regarding graduate school. Its about God, not about me, I know that. i am merely expressing a feeling of isolation from extended family that i do not believe would exist if i were staying within 100 miles of them. it is somewhat mafia-esque, i believe. perhaps all families are. whatever the case, i'm stepping outside mine, and will be taking a new path--perhaps a long way around, at first....

Fishing in the White River--one day a pauper, today a prince

So maybe my luck in love is changing. or will be soon? Yesterday i caught one fish. ONE. well, i was finishing up my application for Pepperdine business school, which well, i'm fishing for a full scholarship on that one, too. So i sat out the morning session yesterday, but barely got on the board in the afternoon. Had that one little rainbow trout not jumped on my line at 4:25 CDT, i would not have heard the end of it from the guys.

Today...wow was it different. in the first 1.75 hours, i had gone 8-for-9. I had out-fished everyone else combined by nearly a factor of two. Which is hilariously ironic, considering i'm the most novice fisherman. I bagged 4 more in the afternoon for an even dozen. Speaking of dozen, i just got through watching a college b-ball game with a HALF DOZEN overtimes. that's like...10 more minutes short of a full second game! like a 16-inning baseball game. unreal. Syracuse won with heart, blood, and guts. kinda like Rocky or Rudy.

i was at ease today...i realized....just let it all go and whammo--the fish start biting. i wonder if there will be love notes in the mailbox when i get back, then? just kidding. but the point is i think God taught me a lot today, about fishing for what really matters [a blessed future, and success, excellence in school and scholarship] and the patience to realize that His best is yet to come.

i just hope my friends will be around to rejoice with me.....i've been around nearly all those closest to me in the past week's time. and i see a bunch more friends this weekend...can't wait.

so the final tally is colorado, california, illinois, oklahoma, texas, arkansas, and missouri--7 states in the previous 9 days. quite a tour.

and to those reading this, i must apologize...this has been a bit more journalistic than my usual blogs, i am tired and trying to catch up on posts.

tomorrow we drive home....we will be loading essentially a totally portable kitchen into a GMC Yukon and driving 500 miles tomorrow. my great-uncle Marlon Brando the Welding Business Operator [he's not really mafia, i just like doing movie character matches for people i love dearly] travels with more ice-chests than any woman has suitcases on a 3 day trip, i promise.

he's been cooking gourmet 5-course meals....i haven't eaten this good since being on a 5-day cruise, and i'm not even sure that tops this. i've gained back one of the belt sizes i've lost since lifting weights. yeah, i kinda missed both my workouts this week. that changes tomorrow, when i get back to having access to weights again.