In Pursuit of Women (or the running of the bulls)

Dear Anonymous Reader,

A friend and I were sitting at lunch the other day talking about all our failed exploits with the opposite sex, friendship or otherwise.

Riveting.

To be frank, he's always been a little more gung-ho about pursuing girls than I have. I generally take the "safer" (a.k.a. slower) approach; he pretty much tends (or used to) to just jump right in.

No puns intended

Regardless, probably the most significant lesson I've learned is that even if you take it slow and "safe," it doesn't guarantee things are gonna work out any better, despite what that little children's story says.

Not that I'm saying go ahead and rush into things. Of course not. Just don't be surprised if things go all Hiroshima in the end.

Ironically enough, dropped on my birthday

At any rate, we both have our stories. And for some reason, probably because I generally take my time and get really involved, all my stories take longer to tell.

Or maybe I just like to hear myself talk.

Anyway, after one of my current events updates (or more generally my thoughts on everything up to this point) my friend said something along the lines of, "You know, Sean, you should just write a book about all your experiences with women."

Honestly, I don't have much. The "experience" I do have is more of what not to do. After all, I've only had one girlfriend (who is now "The Ex"), and there aren't really any prospects on the horizon (not that I'm complaining). And despite my attempts to "do everything right" and "take it slow" and whatever other noble phrases I can put out there, I've still been oblivious, heartless, a jerk, and probably just plain annoying.

In fact, it reminds me of that inspirational e-mail about Thomas Edison and his light bulb. True or not, the story goes that he went through at least a thousand different materials for his filament before he found out one that worked longer than just a few hours. When asked about his failures, he said something along the lines of, "I haven't failed a thousand times, I've just found a thousand ways that wont work."

One thousand and one...one thousand and two...

So, feeling slightly inspired by my friend's comment (and from a lack of anything else to write about), these are my "thousand" ways that haven't worked.

I'll start from the beginning (or what I remember, anyway). And don't worry, these will come in parts, and this one will be short.

Promise.

A Prequel Thingy

I think her name was LeAnne. I'm not entirely sure, probably because this was over twenty years ago and I was still in kindergarten or preschool, and also because I'm terrible with names.

Ask anyone.

Either way, the only memory I have of her is chasing her around the playground behind daycare. She had long, dirty blondish hair and was pretty. I liked her (in whatever way a naive, prepubescent little kid can) and so chasing her around the playground was about all I knew to do.

I haven't seen her since, I don't think, but I've never forgotten that afternoon.

I think I remember it most because it defines how the rest of my pursuits have been:

Always chasing someone, but never really catching anyone.

Not that it's really a bad thing, given the current state of affairs. But rejection/heartbreak sucks no matter what the reason.

-to be continued-

Traffic Jam

Dear Anonymous Reader,


Coincidentally, I felt like leaving for work thirty minutes early the other day. As I came over the fairly new flyover (hoorah, traffic convenience), I was promptly introduce to this:

Why, what nice taillights you have

For those of you who don't know, I live in an average-sized city of only 100,000 people, and this, well, never happens.


Until now, of course.


Lucky me.


So I sat there for about five minutes (maybe two and a half). Nothing moved, not even snail-paced, except for the far right lane which was an exit ramp into our miniature downtown. It wasn't too far out of the way, so I impolitely squeezed through the backed-up mass of metal and right as I'm exiting everyone starts moving.


And it's too late for me to turn back on to the main highway.


Great. Unnecessary detour .Woot.


I, unfortunately or not, have a habit of unintentionally finding "life-lessons" in insignificant situations.


I hope I'm not the only one.


We all hit those walls in life. You know, the obvious "I don't know what the crap I wanna do" tweenster years. We all snicker at the thirty year old who still lives with his parents and can't find a stable career. Some anecdotes describe him as a lifeless gamer, others as a bum, but I wonder how many would describe him as the kid that just can't "figure out what he wants to be when he finally grows up."


'Cause for most people, young and old, that's a hard question to answer.


"Grow up!" (unrequested advice given by most angry old people)


I still don't know what that looks like.


If it's the dad with a job he hates, a wife he can't stand, and kids that suck him dry, why would I wanna grow into that?(cause that seems to be the theme nowadays)


Well, Sean (I hear the optimist inform), you don't have to end up like that.


Yeah, I know. But I'm pretty sure that when the old man was in my place, he was thinking the same thing.

"Yeah, that's not gonna be me."

15 years and two mortgages later? SHAHBAM! Not just a traffic jam, an effin' twenty car pile-up.

Dad? I'm pregnant, and Billy Joe ran off with the credit card

It's the unexpected that gets us. And it's the fear of the unexpected that keeps us from doing anything remotely adventurous or effective. I hear about the midlife crisis. I hear about playing it safe. I hear about "security" in a stable career. 

Well, after the last few years, I've realized that nothing is secure and safe. Sometimes it works out, and sometimes you just get screwed (or fired, or blown to bits).

But then again:

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” -Jeremiah 29:11-14

Israel was a prime example of the fallen human condition. History inevitably repeats itself. And I don't think it's just because we're "stupid," but I truly believe that it's incredibly difficult to believe and follow some truth you haven't experienced for yourself. Israel would prosper and honor God for a time, but then as a new generation of young people came along that never experienced what their fathers did, they'd get sucked right back into the idol worship of their forefathers that got them thrown into captivity in the first place. Then they'd cry out to God, again, and God would, again, save them. Over, and over, and over, and over.


Nothing's changed.


However, for many traffic jams:

"My son, do not despise the LORD’s discipline, and do not resent his rebuke, because the LORD disciplines those he loves, as a father the son he delights in." -Proverbs 3:11, 12

Sometimes a traffic jam is just a traffic jam, in life or on the highway. Sometimes we're in it, and sometimes we're what causes it. Most call it just an accident, something you don't see coming, but at other times, it's something that could have been prevented by right action long before, be it not texting while you're driving along at 70mph, not speeding during a rainstorm (or snowstorm...true story), or just plain watching the road in front of you. Our actions will inevitably affect someone else.

But the real question is, what will you do in those backed up moments when there seems to be no way out? Like me, you could cut across and find an exit ramp, only to have the jam clear up in front of you. The nice thing is, though, that even though I had to detour on the slightly scenic route, I still made it back to the highway I was on in the first place.

There are a lot of thoughts here. But I guess what I'm really trying to say is that when life blocks up and throws a storm your direction, remember to not merely seek the detour, but seek the heart of God, the Master Planner, and what He desires, for in doing that, He "will be found by you."

Just have patience to let Him perform His work in your life, whether that's waiting in the traffic jam until it clears or taking the nearest exit.

-Sincerely

-Sean

Everything is Meaningless

Dear Anonymous Reader,


When writing, for me, one of the hardest things to reach is the end.


...


See? What you don't realize is that in the space of that little three dot ellipses there, over four days have gone by. I started this post with an end in mind...


...but then it just went right out the proverbial window. 


Solomon loved blabbing on about the end and all the vanity in between.

"For who knows what is good for a person in life, during the few and meaningless days they pass through like a shadow? Who can tell them what will happen under the sun after they are gone?" -Ecclesiastes 6:12

Or even better:

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." -Eccl. 3:11

Ooo, but wait, the kicker:

"I also said to myself, “As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless." -Eccl. 3:18, 19 (emphases added) 

A little bit of a downer compared to that oft quoted Jeremiah 29:11, eh? Here you have one of the wisest men who ever lived, and what's his conclusion?


"Everything is meaningless."


Jeremiah, the Weeping Prophet, on the other hand, quoted God as telling His people that He knew His plans for them, to give them "a future and a hope."


Not so meaningless sounding.


I know the end I have in mind, many times, for a lot of the things I write. It's just getting there that's difficult. I never just want to slap a few meaningless filler-words on paper to crowd the blank, white space in between my catchy intro and snappy conclusion.


Even though that can be a bad habit sometimes.


Because by the end of the paper, no matter how deep or creative or catchy my conclusion is, if there wasn't something meaningful in between it all, then it all would definitely be meaningless.


Take the chick-flick for example. We'd save ourselves a lot of time and drama if the movie went in snapshots like this:

Boy miraculously and randomly meets girl. Lots of drama ensues. Girl leaves boy. Boy, through a bunch of off the wall, unrealistic events wins girl back. Boy marries girl in a totally random and unexpected way. The end.

Yeah, I'd go broke on that story. But that's the outline for almost every cash-cow sappy movie out there.


Why?


It's a reflection of us and our desires.


We're born (and some don't even make it that far), not of our own volition, into a crappy world. It's full of murder, theft, rape, incest, disease, poverty, war, famine, climate change (oh, the terror), and infomercials. It's a luck of the draw (or Providence?) where we end up. Many reading this live in America, which, despite the crappy economical/political climate, is still the richest/most free nation in the world. But even in that, you could either be born into a wealthy (or well-off) family that is able to provide for all your needs up until the point you can provide a stable income for yourself, or you could be born into poverty where, unless you get lucky, there's a good chance you'll die young, poor, and alone.


And that's just in America. 


After birth, the rest of life is our attempt to navigate through this mess until we finally meet our end: Death. For some, we have the hope of something after. For others, we've succumbed to the idea that there's nothing.


Zilch. 


Nadda.


Utter meaninglessness. 


Over the last few weeks, I've reflected on not as much the how am I going to have a meaningful life, but more on the why? Why should I try to find a well paying career if, in the end, I'm gonna lose it all anyway? Why should I pursue a wife who might leave me, I might leave her (even though I would never plan to), she might die before me and leave me alone anyway or I might die before her, or she might have an accident and not even be the person I remember marrying, or...you get my point. Why have children when there's a chance they could die before I do, they could turn out to be "special" and not have the innate ability to even have a life of their own, or they could just turn out to be crappy kids I'm ashamed of when they grow up. Why pursue friendships since everyone changes, everyone moves on, and even if you keep in touch every once in awhile, it generally consists of frivolous updates that don't actually maintain anything meaningful as far as a relationship is concerned?


And why, when there's a chance that even while you're living, Alzheimer's could invade your brain and you could forget about everything anyway and  leave in the same state you entered this world (like an infant, helpless, unknowing, and unable to do anything about it), would you want to pursue anything at all?


Depressing? Most definitely. 


This isn't a Christian vs. Atheist debate on why God provides meaning. I consider myself a devote Christian and these are questions I struggle with ever day of my life. 


My life is plagued at every turn with that big, fat question Why?


Everything's gonna end, so Why?


And then, inevitably enough, a voice whispers through the shadow of all those questions and reminds me:

It's not about me.

So, as we all prepare for Christmas this year and celebrate the birth of a Savior, in the midst of all my questions I realize that it's not about whether I allow my life to have meaning or not, but will I do my part to make life meaningful for others?

"Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” -Matthew 20:26-28

I've learned, for myself at least, that it's not about the beginning, and the end (on earth anyway) is the same for all of us, but it's the in-between that counts. As long as I search for meaning in myself (like Solomon in all of his searching), I'll never find it. But when I look to serve others, to make their lives meaningful, then I fulfill the command Christ gave 2000 years ago.

In that He gives my life the ultimate meaning:

Himself.

Merry Christmas :)

Sincerely,

-Sean

If Tacos Had Wings

Just kidding. I don't think I could keep that going for too long. The amount of scribbles and corrections alone would drive me insane. Sure, it might be "creative," but it's nonetheless inefficient.

Not that this blog has anything to do with efficiency. 

And by "thinks" I mean "things," of course (unless you wanna substitute it as a new way to say "ideas").


Obviously lines have no effect on proper spelling whatsoever.


Alright, done handwriting for now. Thank you Mr. Laptop computer with high-speed internet WiFi connection.


Like many people who reflect on how far technology has brought us just this past century, I find myself exclaiming...to myself...something along the lines of, "How did we ever live without (blank)!"


Imagine: no airlines, no cars, no international highway system, no microwave, no indoor plumbing, no electricity, no penicillin, and God forbid no computers or Facebook.

Yes, there's a brick on my face

This, however, isn't going to be some repeated diatribe over how spoiled we've become. Someone's already done that for me.

So, my hat goes off to you, Technology. 

Anyway.

What I really wanted to focus on were the lines. In the first picture, I've got a clean sheet of paper I can do anything with. I can fold it, scribble on it, or try to write my blog introduction. However, trying to keep things straight, neat, tidy, whatever you wanna call it, is near impossible (for me, anyway).

But with lined notebook paper it's a breeze. I don't really have to think about keeping my sentences straight. I've got something to follow.

Point? Simple enough. The necessity of Rules. But I never was fond of rules growing up. They always seemed to restrict my freedom in doing what I wanted.

That, of course, never really stopped me from doing what I wanted anyway. I remember this one time I was playing with some small holes in the wall. My mother told me to stop, and I, being the all-knowing two year old that I was, didn't and promptly got zapped.

Lesson learned.

"All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work." -2 Timothy 3:16, 17

It's easy to be convinced that the Bible was given to keep us Christians from "having fun." That, or to keep us close minded, ignorant, and just plain backwards. I've heard the accusatory statement that goes something like, "Why would I follow a religion that's based on just a book?"

Well, why would you follow anything that's based on just a book?

The entire point of religion period is that it never is based on just a book, or books, or rules, or any other straw-man argument put forth. Faith, any faith, is so much more than just anything.

That, of course, doesn't mean I don't seek to expand my knowledge and learn other things outside my faith, but that's a discussion for another time.

Even for those who claim to be without faith (who adhere to ideas which come from books as well), it's more than just the decision to one day not believe.

It's the cumulative experiences of an entire group of people throughout history. And to those people, the relationship they've had with their creator(s) (or founder(s) if you prefer).

We're more alike than we realize. Believers, non-believers, undeciders, I-Just-Don't-Give-A-Crap-ers, we all believe our situations and bucket-loads of experience warrant justification of why we see the world the way we do. We have the lines we've decided to follow, and we have the freedom to break out of them whenever we choose (unless you're in prison, metaphorical or otherwise. A little bit more difficult there). Sometimes in small ways (coloring outside the lines). Sometimes in very big, world changing ways (Martin Luther's 95 Theses).

This entry may have felt sparse of support, disjointed, or maybe it doesn't make much sense at all. There are a lot of ideas here that would drive this post into oblivion. Many I've already posted about, but at the end of the day, the point is, we all need and even want the lines, even if we don't recognize the prearranged structure of our very existence.

But the nice thing is, is that even though I was taught to color inside the lines, some of the most amazing, adventurous things happen when I don't.

Dear Anonymous Reader,


For one of my English papers this last semester, I was reading a book called Grammatical Man. In general, it's about information theory. More specifically, it's about how language is the best reflection of how information theory works in the real world. Even more specifically, it discusses (20 years ago) how the mind acquires, categorizes, and retains information. 

The end result

One of the interesting things I learned is that the brain needs context for all the information it acquires. It doesn't do so well remembering just random bits of info. It needs some framework to put it in. Even more interesting is learning that the brain can (and will) do this unconsciously. In fact, it'll discard or even ignore things that it deems insignificant or not applicable. 

Again, this book was published in the 80s, and I haven't studied any neural-biological updates just yet. 

Yup...the 80s

But just knowing that my brain doesn't acquire and store information directly from events as they actually occurr kinda creeps me out. We all have this unconscious filter. Some talk about seeing the world through rose colored glasses. Well, evidently, we all have 'em, and I'm pretty sure the colors range from black to white to turquoise all the way to poopy brown. 

As I look back on things that have happened, whether it's in my faith, in my relationships, or just in life in general, it forces me to take a second look at how I perceive those circumstances. 

As if I wasn't analytical enough already.

And on top of that, knowing that everyone around me is filtering everything I say and do, be it in front of them or to them, through this filter, is just as frustrating. 

But then again, looking back on everything (everything I remember, that is), it makes sense. Realizing how many people took what I said or how I acted the wrong way, realizing how I took things the wrong way, wondering if the boat was really red or was it green, it all explains why so many of us just can't get along. We've all got different filters. And knowing that there's no possible way we can ever come to see things eye to eye completely, thanks to distance, culture, language, religion (or lack thereof), upbringing, geography, and our own God-given sense of self worth (or worthlessness), simply sucks.

Or maybe that's just my pessimism seeping through.  

But at the same time (and on a brighter note), to see how people from different sides of the world can get along is just simply amazing. 

Almost miraculous.

Which is why, despite anyone's religious preference, 1 Corinthians 13 is so important. 

"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing." 

As cheesy as it sounds (and yes, even I think it sounds cheesy, and I'm kind of surprised I'm going to even type it out), the only filter that can overcome all these barriers placed between different peoples and cultures is love.


Not that squishy, flowery, romancey, Hollywood-esque feel good and let's hug a tree, sit in the sun kind of love, although that's nice to have at times.

No offense intended

I'm talking about the kind of love that keeps a man caring for his wife as she succumbs to Alzheimer's. The kind of love that drives a group of Christians in Egypt to surround and protect a group of Muslims as they pray. The kind of love that encourages a man to give up his chair for someone else. The kind of love that drives one person to give up that last donut to someone else.


The kind of love that drives a man to give up his life for someone else, even when they don't deserve it.


Christ said:

"“This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." -John 15:12, 13

He didn't command us to love one another just for kicks and giggles or for a feel good moment. Sometimes loving a person can be the hardest, most uncomfortable, most agonizing thing to do. He commanded us to love one another because that's the only way to overcome those unconscious filters. It forces a person to make a choice: to see and adhere to life through their own tainted goggles, or to put them aside for the sake of someone else. 


We can point fingers, talk about whose fault it is, be silent, run away, blow things up, and gun people down until the world itself is consumed, but until someone puts what they think is right aside (regardless if they are or not) and pursues "a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person (hoorah, Webster)," then nothing can ever change.

1 Corinthians 13 has a lot to say about love. But the most important thing to remember from all the characteristics love exhibits is this:

"Love never fails." -1 Corinthians 13:8

I fail. My friends fail. My parents fail. My government fails. But the choice to overlook all those failures, to overlook wrongs, to overlook who's right or not, and to just pursue the person (even when you can't), that doesn't fail.  


That, of course, doesn't cancel out responsibility, but that's for another day.


I don't know much, and I understand even less, and I've had friends I've loved dearly fade away and leave me confused about a lot of things (and despite my best efforts, I've done the same to others), but for some reason, when I put all that aside, I know (or I at least believe) that something else is at work greater than myself or my situations.

My filters suck. But Christ, and the love He portrayed for a world lost, is forever clear to me.

Especially when I fail.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Dear Anonymous Reader,


It's easy to get lost in our own misery. 

When words just aren't enough

Depressing post already, I know. Get over it (Erm, I mean, cheer up!).


But really, for whatever biological (or psychological) reason (and I say whatever 'cause I'm throwing it out there without any scientific data whatsoever), we seem to be engineered to dive into ourselves whenever we feel down (although some dive into Facebook posts seeking attention). Or maybe that's just me. We know we're feeling crappy, we feel like it's contagious (which, to some extent, it can be), and it seems that, for the moment, it defines us.


Heck, even David knows what I'm talking about.

"Save me, O God, for the waters have threatened my life.I have sunk in deep mire, and there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and a flood overflows me. I am weary with my crying; my throat is parched; my eyes fail while I wait for my God. Those who hate me without a cause are more than the hairs of my head; those who would destroy me are powerful, being wrongfully my enemies; what I did not steal, I then have to restore." -Psalm 69:1-4

Here's the man after God's own heart, called from being a Sheppard boy to being king, he killed that 9ft Philistine guy, he brought the Ark back to Jerusalem, he danced naked in front of everyone and embarrassed his wife...


...but oh wait, that's right. He was also the guy that was nearly killed by Saul, he ended up sleeping with that Bathsheba chick (sure, his bad, but still...), he ended up having his baby die, and he ultimately watched his kingdom get torn to bits by his greedy/selfish sons.


I think I summed that up right. If not, feel free to correct.


At any rate, even the so-called "giants" of the bible had sucky moments. Job, great example. Jeremiah, cried so much he's known as the Weeping Prophet, John had his head cut off thanks to a stripper. Heck, Jesus even told his disciples:

"Then they will deliver you to tribulation, and will kill you, and you will be hated by all nations because of My name." -Matthew 24:9

It's been a hard couple of months for various reasons. Stress from school, from relationships, from preparation for the future, etc. It's so easy to allow our focus to drift away from the Source and onto the problems.


However:

"Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." -Hebrews 12:2

I never solved a math problem by staring at the page. And if I didn't know it (tests aside), I sought out someone who did. I never found directions to my destination by staring at a road. I  found a map (or GPS) and followed the directions. 


And I never found happiness in the company of myself. I may have sorted a few things out. I may have found some clarity in the Word. But fellowship, not only with other believers, but with Christ himself, is the only thing that has ever brought peace and restoration.


It's been a crappy couple of months. I've been reclusive (a bad habit, I know), but tonight was good. Good company, good conversation, good, cheesy guitar singin' country sing-a-longs, and a good movie.


I'm thankful for the friends God has place in my life because they're a tender reminder of who He is. He's not a God to leave us alone.


So if you're going through that season of misery, of doubt, of despair and loneliness, remember: He's Jehovah Jireh: The Lord will provide...even in the most unexpected moments and in the most unexpected ways.


Sincerely,


-Sean

Truth or Dare?

Dear Anonymous Reader,


"Some things are better left unsaid."


I think we've all heard (or even used) that saying. We use it in so many convenient situations; mostly when we want to avoid an inconvenient, awkward situation. A friend of mine hates it when guys begin that conversation with, "Let me be honest with you...," 'cause afterward, it's usually an awkward, relationship changing event.

I like you for your braaains

I've always been the sort of person (or would like to think I am) who wants to know the truth regardless of how awkward, uncomfortable, or life changing it might be. It amazes me that so many people would live their lives ignorant and supposedly happy in a puddle of lies rather than know what's really going on. 

Then again...

Understandably, the truth can hurt at times. Whether it's finding out your girlfriend (or whatever gender-specific significant other) is in love with someone else, your dog really didn't run away when you were seven but was put out of its misery by dad's .44 magnum, or you really are like everyone else, the truth can be devastating. I mean heck, even Solomon said:

"...in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain."            -Ecclesiastes 1:18

But why would someone rather live a lie? If it's not true, where's the meaning? 

I think it goes to show that for most of us, meaning is derived from our point of view and how we feel rather than what's actually true (or not). It doesn't matter that you'll never live up to their expectations. As long as you can dream, there's always a chance.

I'm not just talking about in relationships. I'm talking about with every aspect of life. Religion, lack of religion, politics, butter side up (or down), etc. The reason why no one will every really agree on anything is because we all have so many different perspectives. Almost seven billion different perspectives.

My seat's better than yours

But what's even more frustrating is that many people can't see past those differences and recognize that you don't have to agree to get along.

Now sure, there are extenuating circumstances. If someone breaks into your house and points a gun in your face, agreement or getting along isn't (and doesn't need to be) the first thing crossing your mind. 

But I'm not talking about those obviously excluded situations. I'm talking about everyday life. I'm talking about the two people of the same religion (or denomination, even) that get into a heated debate over mere doctrine and leave bitter and angry, never to speak again. I'm talking about opposing sports teams that in the name of friendly rivalry do ridiculous, sometimes heinous things to each other. I'm talking about the couple that can't agree on which side of the room to place the couch and have a yelling match until one or the other storms out of the room angry beyond consolation. 

You did this to me!

What's most frustrating of all is that the majority of these problems could probably be solved by effective communication and the willingness to understand and accept a person's point of view without trying to change them. Whether it's the angry woman telling the man how she really feels, the confused man telling the woman how he feels, the friend telling the friend how they feel, or if it's the mother who's honest with her daughter about what to really expect in the world (good and bad), so many permanently painful situations could be avoided if someone just spoke up truthfully from the beginning.

But then again, most of us hate those confrontational situations. We hate the potential rejection. We hate the truth in knowing that sometimes we're just not good enough, what we do isn't good enough, or even just not feeling good enough.

And most of all, we hate having to trust someone else with that delicate piece inside of us that can be broken, sometimes seemingly beyond repair. 

Solomon said:

"Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life." -Proverbs 4:23

But do we have to be, intentional or not, liars and thieves to do so?

I may be going to extremes, but it's just a thought.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Dear Anonymous Reader,

Some try to define life by dollar signs, others by a religion. Some try to define it through relationships, and still others through their loneliness. Regardless of how you attempt to derive meaning from it, what's important is this:

Finals are finally finished! It's been a great day knowing I'm free from assigned study for the next month. No due dates. No grades. It's time to sit back and reeeelax.

Nothin' like havin' a pool by the ocean

But as you can see, however, I'm not lounging in that beach chair. And no, it's not 'cause I'm in the sailboat...although that'd be nice. I may have some freedom, but like most things, it's quite temporary.

So what have I done with my new found, temporary freedom?

I went and ran two miles.

                                     For the first time in seven months (Yeah, not one of my brighter moments, I know).

My legs aren't legs anymore. They've transformed into some kind of gelatinous material that wobbles around beneath me every time I try to stand, much less walk anywhere.

But more than that, it's important to note that this post has nothing to do with anything at all, really, except sharing my profound joy at not having to study, really study, anytime soon.

I can procrastinate, for the moment, without any immediate consequences, and I look forward to a couple of weeks of probably looking like this:

Game on

And for now, that's good enough.

Sincerely,

-Sean

The Liar's Telling the Truth

Dear Anonymous Reader,


In between studying French phrases like "Comment allez-vous?" and "J'ai les chaussettes verts," I went searching for a song I heard for the first time at church Sunday. It's called Healer, and it's by this guy:

His name is Michael Guglielmucci, and in this video, the world believed (along with the rest of his family) that he was dying of cancer. I mean look at him, he even has that little oxygen hose thingy (which my dad lovingly told me at the dinner table was called a nasal cannula). I would've believed it.


And then I saw this video in the margin: 

Shocked? Most definitely. But I was more shocked by the fact that this happened almost three years ago, and I never heard a word of it.


As human beings, it's in our nature to be deceptive. We do it everyday. Some do it habitually in just the simple "I'm alright" to the "How are you?" when you're really not alright; you just don't wanna talk about it. Others take it a step further and feign a dying cell phone battery when you're really just tired of talking to the person on the other end. Other's go even a step further and just flat out lie, although they do sometimes follow it up with something like:

"But I have a good reason, honestly! I don't wanna hurt their feelings. It's just one little lie...you know...a white lie." ('cause lies are color coordinated. I prefer aqua marine myself)

But to go national, in a church, deceiving the world for two years about a sickness you don't really have and  write a song worshiping a healing God? I mean, that's gotta be guaranteed Hell-fire express lane, right? 


Well, I'm not qualified to make that statement, but Jesus and Peter (who lied and denied Jesus later on) did have this conversation:

Peter: "Hey Jesus! How much can my brother here treat me wrong and I forgive him? Is seven a good number?" 

Jesus: "Peter, I'm not gonna tell you seven times. How about you just go for gold and shoot for seventy times seven."

-Matthew 18:21, 22 (Paraphrased)

To which, of course, Peter promptly did the math, started ticking off his Forgive-O-Meter until it reached 490, and then let his brothers have it after that.


Yeah, right. He was no stranger to sarcasm and neither was Jesus. We all remember the speck and plank in your eyeball story (if you don't, refresh yourself with Matthew 7). 


Jesus' whole point was we just keep forgiving, which, like most things Jesus told us, go against our very nature. We're all about giving a person a second chance. Heck, maybe if we're in a charitable mood, we'll give them three chances. But since baseball's so ingrained into our society, after that, thhheeeyyy're out! 


I'll tie it back to the beginning. Promise.


I unintentionally read verse twenty of Matthew eighteen while writing this. Jesus says:

"For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst."

Refer back to the Hillsong concert in vid one. See the size of that crowd? There Michael is, lying his very existence off to the world, but everyone else is there in His name, worshiping a Creator through words a liar wrote.


And I believe Jesus was there.


Maybe Michael was telling the truth in that song. Truth not only for millions who watched, but for himself. In the midst of his deepest deception was a man crying out to God.


But what about that Revelation verse that says all liars will have their part in the lake of fire? (Rev. 21:8)


Well, Michael obviously confessed his sin before the entire world he deceived. And the truth is: 

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:9 

The amazing thing about how God works is that through Michael's deception came a song that has ministered to millions.


That is amazing grace. That is an amazing God.


Sincerely,


-Sean

Anxiety: the Procrastinator's Nightmare...maaaybe.

Dear Anonymous Reader,

I looked up the pros and cons of procrastination a couple of years ago. Don't ask the source; it's been too long and I'm in no mood (since I'm already in the middle of finishing one research paper) to try to dig it up again. But one pro I remember is that, in the case of schoolwork, the Procrastinator doesn't have to worry about being stressed all year to finish work that isn't due for another couple of weeks or months. Instead, the stress comes all at once the few days (or the night) before a project is due and is gone by the time the work is finished. Another pro is that some people generally work better under pressure. The con, of course, is that there isn't sufficient time to revise one's work. It is what it is, revised or not.

In my case, I, for the moment, fall into the latter category. But thankfully (from my point of view), I don't stress too much anymore. My own method of madness is to do my best all semester. That way, if I happen to revert to old ways and procrastinate near the end of the semester and my work isn't as polished, I have the better grades to hopefully carry me through. 

Calculated laziness? Perhaps. Easily distracted? Most definitely. Full of excuses? Of course. However, learning what's important and what isn't, in the grand scheme of things, has been one of the most vital tools in avoiding anxiety over late work loads.

I figured out a long time ago that what we're mainly searching for as human beings is connection with others. We find it in so many different forms that it's hard to differentiate what it is we're actually looking for. Many believe they'll find fulfillment in being financially successful. Others believe they'll find it in the love of another. Some believe it's found in a god (or gods) while others believe it's in proving that it isn't. Some believe it's honor. And some, honestly, just don't care. Whether it's the WOW geek up late on a Monday night raiding some castle with a bunch of cyber buddies or the emo girl who cuts her wrists and then writes depressing poetry about loneliness, we're all still searching for that attention from somewhere.

For that voice that affirms our existence.

For that hand to hold (or the spooning to enjoy during some cheesy, sparkling chick flick).

Either way, Facebook, or social networks in general, are perhaps the greatest expression of that desire. Just scroll through the news feed in a given day and you'll find more seemingly useless information about what everyone's doing than you know what to do with. In fact, you can't really do anything with it other than "like" or comment on it. But even then, some blurbs aren't even comment-worthy. 

For example, one postee has just addressed her bed and bid the rest of us good night. The entirety of Facebook is potentially scrolling by and you're talking to your bed? 

Useless? Perhaps...if only at first glance. 

Dig a little deeper, however, and you'll find in that random post a desire for someone else to connect with a simple idea; the hope that someone else somewhere else relates with her simple desire to sleep; the realization that the only reason why someone would post anything at all is in the hope that someone else will read it, connect, and care about what's being experienced. 

So what does all of that have to do with anything? Heck, probably nothing at this point. More than likely the majority that started to read this have already wandered somewhere else in cyberspace. 

We're not anxious for the grades. We're anxious that the grades define us. We're not anxious for replies to random posts. We're anxious that the lack of replies define our lack of importance. We're not anxious for success. We're anxious to matter, to mean something, to be someone influential and important. We're not anxious for answered prayers. We're anxious that if our prayers aren't answered, it means we're not good enough, we're not important enough, we're wrong, or ever worse, that He doesn't even exist at all. Lying beneath all of those worries is more than likely the realization that we have no idea how to connect with the world around us.

It's big. It's got a mother-load of ideas floating around in it. So how do we sift through it all and come out with at least a little bit of sanity?

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." -Philippians 4:6

I've made a lot of choices in the past I don't understand. One of them is waiting until the night before to write a six page research paper. I know why.

But really, why?

What I do know is that worrying about it at this point won't do me any good. Only writing will. Breaks are good, but fretting over things I can't change at this point isn't. 

Ultimately, it isn't about if I make a great GPA and get a PhD, obtain a six figure salary paying career, or that I drive an Aston Martin through the French Alps with my smokin' hot super model babe girlfriend maybe someday wife sex toy. 

It's the question of will I be able to connect with others, and will they take the time to connect with me?

Just a thought, of course.

So what are you anxious about? And what are the real reasons why?

Sincerely, 

-Sean