Thrown By the Father

Dear Anonymous Reader,

There's a verse in the bible that speaks of Jesus as the author of our faith. Like most, I envision Him sitting before a book that is my life, and I immediately know that such an image is as far from the truth as anyone can get.

Because it isn't about me. I don't have my own book. I don't believe He sits there in whatever infinite study Heaven contains and writes a book dedicated to my life alone.

But then again, He's God. Maybe He has the time (C.S. Lewis thought so).

Instead, if we're still using the book metaphor, I see Him sitting before a massive book, something so titanic in scope that even the words written within its pages couldn't describe just how mind numbingly big it is. It contains every life, every interaction, every piece of that infinite puzzle that makes up eternal history.

And there, on page seven billion and twenty-seven, somewhere in the margin, is a blotch of ink. It's a liquidy, iron, charcoal-black drop, and it's slightly smeared, as if His hand brushed over it while finishing a sentence on the opposite page.

I mean, could God do that? From whatever pen He uses (I imagine one of those old, feathery fountain pens that you have to dip into the inkwell every few sentences), could some stray, divine, story-creating ink randomly find its way into the outlying margins; a genuine, seemingly misplaced speck of writing material?

(Now, I understand some of you are already pouncing on this page theologically (I am, too), spitting accusations of how that isn't how God directs our steps. Then again, I don't care. They're my thoughts and my virtual paper, so hush up and let me finish.)

And if so, can that splotch of black turn into a person's life? Could it be my life? Could there be millions of these splotches riddled throughout the book that is God's story of His creation: those of us long dead, those of us dying, and those of us yet to come?

Have I been thrown by the Father into the margins? And if so, and even if I'm smeared by His hand, even if I'm separated from the rest of the story, from the paragraphs of all those lives intertwined, does that mean I'm just as seemingly insignificant?

Or does He purposefully place these blotches of ink? Is He still working, even when I don't understand it all? Is He still writing me in, somewhere, even when I feel thrown to the side? Are the words that have created me, breathed life into me, taking shape inside the margins, even though I appear accidental?

Thrown by the Father. Those words hammer themselves through my prefrontal cortex like an obstinate drummer. So many of us find ourselves thrown by the Father into lives that, at the time, don't make any sense whatsoever. We're abused, confused, misplaced, and alone. We struggle not through existence, but for existence. In a society that's constantly changing, we wonder where, and if ever, we fit in.

Thrown by the Father: the question of relevance.

Thrown by the Father: the question of purpose.

Thrown by the Father: our question of love.

In the same way, I see a man hanging on a tree. From his hand, nailed tightly to the bruised wood, a drop of blood falls. It lands in the margins below, but its purpose is overwhelming and undeniably eternal.

That drop in the margin begins to take shape.

And sometimes, I wonder if it's me.

Sincerely,

-Sean

For Sale: Relational Monkeys

Dear Anonymous Reader,

Let's face it...I'm awesome. I mean, look at me: I've got the car, the hair, and I can play guitar.

I mean really, who wouldn't want to be me?

Right.

I was playing guitar last night...alone. So I shot up some Facebook and noticed there was an open mic going on downtown. What's better than playing guitar alone? Sitting at a bar playing guitar in front of people, heck yeah! 'Cause who wouldn't want to partake in this acoustical, melodic awesomeness?

Right.

Truth is, I'm pretty shallow. I sit at home and watch a show about cars because it's more entertaining than folding clothes (although, I guess I could fold clothes while I watch the show), and it's a heck of a lot easier than writing a story...or anything at all, really.

Painting the kitchen is a lot of work...and it's dark outside, so that's out of the question.

I'm pretty sure I'm not tired enough to sleep just yet.

Not that any of that makes me shallow...it's just a general statement followed up by my own interpretation of laziness.

Not that I'm lazy or anything. I work at a job, yo.

Aw, look at the kitty

Anyway, I've come to learn that many people are probably more prideful than they give themselves credit for. And by many, I mean me...'cause I'm the most important person in my life.

Which is bad...right?

Or wait, maybe not. How does that verse go? "Love your neighbor?"

Oh wait, that's right, it finishes up with "...as yourself."

So I've gotta know how much I love myself to know how much I should love you.

Which, I've gotta say, I love me a lot. Again, just look at my car and fancy hair. And maybe my shoes.

So if I love me that much and I'm supposed to love you that much...then I must really suck at life. I'll make sure I've got food...and wheels...and attention...and a job...and a place to sleep...and a shower...and maybe some socks...

But what about my neighbor? In fact, who is my neighbor? Or better yet...am I neighborly...regardless of who it is?

Or am I just someone that likes to talk a lot?

*reads previous paragraphs*

Ah.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Ages ago, before dinosaurs and women...

Dear Anonymous Reader,

It's easy to talk about imagination.

It's even easier to imaginate...as it were.

It's so easy, in fact, that I'm doing it right now.

(now scroll fancy pictures of an Oregon coast, a fast car, a ranch full of trees and rivers, and some girl that actually enjoys putting up with my nonsense who I call my wife)

Then imagine none of that being good enough for no reason at all.

Finding myself lost on the tail end of summer isn't anything new. It's quite easy, in fact. So simple, that if you were to ask me how I felt at any particular moment, you'd be bound to a chair amidst dull conversation about the size of the universe and how God seems to enjoy watching us try to "figure it all out."

And then I'd tell you how much I enjoy pizza.

Of all the things to worry about, my lack of direction isn't one of them.

Really.

I have enough sense to know that with a year of school left, I have no need to worry about what's after that. Some might find it a foolish conclusion.

"You need a plan!" most yell from the scaffolding above my apartment.

Well no crap, Sherlock. I've got a plan.

However, I'm fully away that a year from now, that plan will most likely look a little bit (or a lotta bit) different.

Why?

Because every year before, it always has been.

It's not to say I'm flippant or unsure of myself. It's just to say that I'm unsure and flippant about who I think I am, what I think I want, and where I believe God is taking me.

Roughly five years ago (my insincere apologies to all unbelievers and general "religion is ridiculous" nay sayers out there) God, after years of "searching," gave me a couple of simple, fairly straight forward directions.

"Finish school," was the first. The second isn't really important to anyone else, but it had nothing to do with women, children, a car, Oregon, or even the songs I so desperately thought should have made me famous by now (not that those aren't important, but there's nothing worse than a big head itching for fame).

So for the last 5 years, I've been doing just that: school. I take my time with it, obviously, since I've been going off and on for about 7 years now, but I guess I'm not in as much a rush as most everyone else. I don't have this vision of a career with kids and a wife and a house and a car and a dog that loves to jump when I come home and a perpetual Christmas with family.

Although I do enjoy the idea of it all.

Truthfully, I'm just sitting here watching an entertaining car show, enjoying how goofy things look from a couch and two spread out bottles of beer (yup, I enjoy a drink or two now and then).

I never thought, 5 years ago, that I'd be in the position I'm in. Single, still unsure of a definite career direction (sorry dad), and more interested in the circumference of the universe than how I'm going to retire well off enough to own a boat, a plane, annnnd a nice house with horses and mountains in the background (cause Lord knows that's what I think I want at this point).

In the end, and maybe this is what's most important, I just want to know, and then do, what He wants me to.

And you know what? I suck at it.

Like anyone else, Paul especially, I can't do the simplest things. Don't lie, don't lust, don't be prideful, feed the hungry, visit the orphans and widows, pray without ceasing, etc. etc. etc.

So many natural guidelines that should flow from love of a Creator...but I suck at following even the simplest one.

I mean truthfully, at the end of the day, I many times wonder why I bother. What does it matter? I'm some finite human being. Christianity these days seems to be more egotistical than a harmonious picture of what the Body of Christ should look like. It's all about me, me, and me and does God show Himself in enough convincing ways to be believable or is He just...outdated?

I digress.

God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.” Psalm 46:1

The verse of the day. Shows up every evening around 11pm, and I find it one of the very few things worth posting on Facebook. Most get lost in Mankind's assumption of what an all-powerful, creative deity should be and do. Our parameters fill books and libraries and tired minds until no one understands what the fuss is all about anymore.

It's just that, after so long, what's been presented just isn't good enough.

And that seems to be my own problem these days. I'm stuck in the rut that nothing's good enough. The girls, the cars, the society, the careers, the writing, the songs, the dreams...

...none of it, even the idea of it, is good enough.

And you know what? None of it is.

But He is.

His Grace, whether you believe it or not, IS good enough, and it makes all the other things He sets before me good enough.

I'm not good enough for anything, really. I can kind of carry a tune, but only so much. I'm not as compassionate as I'd like to think. And I can't cook to save my life.

But His sacrifice...that wasn't only good enough...that was enough.

The proverbial definition of true fulfillment.

And even though, in the midst of life, doubt, death, struggle, success, and almost certain confusion, His grace will always be good enough.

You don't have to believe it for it to be true, or effective, it just is.

And at the end of the day, regardless of where it began, I hope it can end with the knowledge that He is our strength, and He is our very present (not distant) help when we need it most.

And most importantly...to me, anyway, He is our refuge. When all other protection falls away, He remains...felt or not...a hedge over all other things dark and dangerous. And even though I may wander, He values me enough to leave the 99 to bring me back.

To hoist me over His shoulders.

To even break my leg when I can't seem to get it right.

To love me enough to cause me pain for a bigger picture and purpose I cannot see nor understand at this finite point in history.

Even unto death...for what is death but just a door I just can't see behind? Too simple? Maybe.

I imagine a lot of things, but His love isn't one of them. Regardless of what you believe, the one thing I can share with any sense of certainty is that when I'm at the end of whatever rope I'm holding, when belief has long fled from my mind and heart, He's still there watching over everything great, terrible, beautiful, and small...

...and in it all is His purpose.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Change

Dear Anonymous Reader,

It's cliche, I know, but everything changes. Everyone leaves. And somehow, even you leave yourself at some point.

It might have a bit of cheese mixed in, but someday, if you're lucky, you'll wake up and realize that the person you were five years ago is no long around.

For some of us, this is a good thing. For the jerk in high school who managed to find a heart; for the lazy kid who somehow manages to run a family; for the less ambitious who somehow found a dream, despite the cheesy songs of "you're perfect the way you are," we all hope something about us changes.

Otherwise (and to be perfectly frank), what the hell are we doing here?

Many people graduated from college yesterday. Some I'll see again, but most I won't. I'll only manage a few lines over the next few years through the miracle of Facebook, but otherwise, truth be told, their season in my life is over.

And surprisingly enough, that's alright.

The Sean from five years ago would have been slightly heartbroken. But after this long, after seeing so many people leave and move on, it's understood that nothing lasts forever, regardless of how we feel.

That whole "circle of life" thing.

If we allow it to, such change will give us room for the new seasons, the new people, and the new experiences we have waiting for us.

Congrats, College Grads. I'll join you one of these days.

But as you can tell, I'm in no hurry.

Sincerely,

-Sean

If You're Right and You Know It (clap your hands!)

Dear Anonymous Reader,

I've got one of those story telling personalities that has to start at the beginning.

The very beginning.

                 The, "Two hundred years before I was born," beginning.

It's not that I necessarily like to hear myself talk as much as I just like for there to be substantial context for the story I'm telling...and the ultimate point I'm trying to make.

Because it's all about the story.

Yes, yes, you have the point of the story, the capstone, and such impatient types would love for you to skip to the end like any lazy chap (too much Top Gear) could "reading" a book (cheaters), but the entire point itself is wrapped up into the very story you're telling (or skipping).

(guilty)

We've become an impatient, cheap society.

Well, wait, that's not right. We've always been an impatient, cheap society, and to tell that story, I've got to go back roughly 7,000 years.

You see, there was this guy, Moses, and he was out shepherding sheep one day when...

Just kidding. I won't bore you (myself included) with such things this early in the morning (or late in the evening, whichever you prefer).

The easiest way I can make this point without delving into thousands of years of biblical history is this:

And He died on the cross so that you might live.

That's the point. The entire history of the bible, the entire message of the gospel, is wrapped up (basically) into that sentence right there.

But how'd He get there? one might ask. And who is He anyway? Why did He have to die? Why the cross? Where'd He come from and where'd He go? Was it even necessary? Is it even true?

What's the point?

There's always more to the point than just "the point." There's more to me than my desire to provide lengthy explanations that very well may put you to sleep. And there's more to being right than the profound knowledge that I'm more than likely wrong.

A lot.

But I see my story...the sides you don't. Even when the story's written on my face in lines and figures, expressions of surprise, gratitude, regret, happiness, or anger, there's more to it than just your interpretation and postmortem assumptions of why it is I do what I do (or did).

And I've been around long enough to know that even when I know for sure why you do what you do, most of the time, I don't really know jack squat.

Regardless of who you are.

All I can tell you is that I know I'm right, for now, even though I know I'm more than likely wrong.

And that's okay.

And if you find yourself in the same position, that's alright, too. We've all had to experience the rude awaking of realizing we're wrong.

"Every man’s way is right in his own eyes, but the LORD weighs the hearts." -Proverbs 21:2

There are days when I have no idea where my heart is. In fact, I could probably say that most days I have no clue where it is and which way it's going. Accordingly:

"The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it? -Jeremiah 17:9

Therefore, I know only to do this:

“...looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” -Hebrews 12:2

The entire point is that I'm not the point.

He is.

And there's a long, incredible story at my fingertips that tells me about it, and it's still being written.

I'm hardly right, despite my confidence and my stories, but He is. And if you don't know Him, just take a look and make an attempt to see Him not as some grand figure stapled to a religion, but as a living being allowing His creation to get to know Him in creative ways.

And if you really give it a go, despite the outcome, you'll be in for and a part of an amazing ride and fascinating story.

Sincerely,

-Sean

In Pursuit of Women (To ask or not to ask?) Part 6

Dear Anonymous Reader,

It's been a few days (or weeks...maybe)...seems I'm not procrastinating as much as I used to (except for that English paper...it's been procrastinated like a mo-fo).

At any rate, these next few "In Pursuit of Women" installments may not be in the particular order in which they occurred. I can think of at least 5 girls I liked throughout high school, but for the life of me, remembering the exact order or grade when I liked them is sketchy.

Not that you really care about those details anyway, but there ya have it.

This next girl is significant because she's the first girl I asked out...who I didn't really think I wanted to go out with.

Heck, I probably didn't even really like her all that much.

Yeah, how often does that happen?

We were both in band, and from early on in whatever school year it was (maybe Freshman year), I could tell there seemed to be some sort of interest on her part. I honestly don't remember much aside from the fact that I enjoyed the attention, but like with most all girls, she didn't fit what I thought I was looking for.

And, honestly, I think she got on my nerves more than anything.

But that aside, we took a band trip to Corpus Christi later in the year. Most of what happened is fuzzy (aside from the monstrous stick man I made in the sand the next morning), but one night as everyone took a walk on the beach, I think someone told me this girl liked me and that we'd look cute together...or something of the sort. All I really remember is knowing I didn't want to ask her out, but I felt bad, so I did anyway.

And naturally, by this point, she was probably put off by my obvious lack of interest, and so she took the power into her hands and said no

I felt rejected, for a moment, but then I remembered that I didn't really want to go out with her anyway, so I was thankful. If she would have actually said yes, then I more than likely would have found myself in an extremely awkward position the very next day when I woke up and realized I was "dating" some girl I didn't even like.

Awkward for me, and a jerk move for me to pull on her.

My dad gave me some great advice once based on a personal story of his I won't take the time to go into, but it basically goes like this:

"Don't ruin your life just to be polite."

There's a big difference (I hope) in caring for a person vs. knowing they're the sort of person you actually want to spend the rest of your life with. Thanks to our schizophrenic hormones, those lines can sometimes become cloudy...very cloudy.

Figure out what you want, where it counts, and don't worry about anything else until they come around. It's better to live alone learning patience and how to enjoy life than be stuck with someone you can't stand...or who can't stand you.

In short, and in conclusion, don't settle, and don't be the one settled for.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Kony 2012 (Make him...what?)

Dear Anonymous Reader,

Sometimes procrastination is a very good thing.

I'm sure by now most of you have seen or heard of the Kony 2012 (Make Him Famous) viral/social networking movement/trend/fad/whatever-you-feel-like-calling-it. If you haven't, here's a link to Invisible Children's 30 minute vid followed by a short summary:

A non-profit group known as Invisible Children aims at bringing Joseph Kony (war criminal and leader of the L.R.A., a rebel group who desires to see people follow the 10 commandments) to justice in 2012 by "making him famous." Their reasoning is that if everyone in the western world (or world in general) knows who Kony is and what he's done, then people will be forced to do what it takes, to back (or create) whatever policy it takes, to assist the Ugandan Government in bringing him down. So on April 20th, it's I.C.'s hope that thousands (if not millions) of young people across the nation (and the world, if possible) will blanket their cities in posters, t-shirts, and other such merchandise to make Joseph Kony undeniably famous. 

Simple enough?

It's never that simple.

The first night the video aired over vimeo/youtube, I watched Facebook/Twitter lit up like a proverbial Christmas tree as people joined the cause to see justice brought to the people (and especially the children) of Uganda.

So like everyone else, I watched the video. And despite my general skepticism, I was touched and wanted to know more about the issue at hand...as well as the other side of the story.

As a side note (for context of my position, not for boasting), I already give to a couple of charities that run various programs in Africa and Asia. So my interest and position on Invisible Children and their methods didn't suddenly appear in reaction to the hype. 

Needless to say, there's a lot to the "other side of the story" that most that night did not take the time to consider. Emotionally invigorated by talented cinematography, the unintentional mob mentality (my own opinion), and the hope of doing something good for a group of people that need it, a great many signed on to bring Kony down in 2012.

Now before you get ahead of me, I'm not against Invisible Children or their desire to see a war criminal brought to justice. That, without argument, is a very good and necessary goal. I also can't deny that some of the programs I.C. provides, and especially the awareness they raise about issues that would otherwise go unnoticed, are commendable.

I am, however, for this issue, against their desired method. But more than that, I'm against the general population's lack of further research and consideration into the potential repercussions of April 20th.

Some have tried to argue against I.C.'s position by pointing out poor money management, their current lack of financial accountability, and other such fiscal related issues. To Invisible Children's credit, they've addressed these questions with grace and transparency. My problem isn't with how Invisible Children spends the money they're given. They have the right and freedom to do with it what they will.

My problem is with how we spend our money. And is I.C. the proper place at this point?

So far, over half a million "action kits" have been purchased from I.C. since this campaign started. At $30 a pop, that's over $15 million dollars.

That's almost twice what they made for the entire year of 2011.

I.C. freely admits that they're not an aid organization, they're an advocacy group. That's great. People need advocates.

But does I.C. properly reflect the current issues in Uganda (or Africa in general), or do they have their own agenda of good intentions that unintentionally leaves Africans misrepresented and angry?

In my own opinion, spending millions of dollars on "action kits" and littering cities with tomorrows trash ends up being a gross waste of money and proverbial "clanging cymbal."

More-so, when April 21st rolls around, the general population will awake (in the West anyway) to cities littered in red talking about a man they've already heard of online and in the news.

Redundancy at its best.

Thus, millions of tax payer dollars will go to cleaning up the streets (since posters only last so long, especially in the rain), and for the price of redundancy, millions of dollars which could have gone to direct aid and efforts not only in Africa (there are great many other organizations out there) but at home (tax payer dollars which fund local programs) will have been wasted to retell the world something they already know:

Kony sucks.

Meanwhile, the actual voice of the Ugandans go unheard and unassisted because we youth thought it a better idea to pay for chatter about an issue than for actual aid for the many issues they may indeed face.

From a Christian perspective, it's along the lines of telling the world, "There are hungry people! Feed them!" without actually giving the hungry any food.

Dead Faith.

But more importantly, we fail to do the research so that we can understand what we should actually be doing to assist those in need (and do they even need our help in the first place...or are we making matters worse?).

We've merely been told what to do, and like sheep, we blindly follow.

Procrastinate, for once, on this issue, and do the research to see where your money and efforts can best be invested. If you conclude it's with Invisible Children, great. But it's a big world; take the time to look around.

Sincerely,

-Sean

There are a lot of different sources for the information I've posted. This guy, however, has done a lot more research than I have, and has compiled resources here. Please take a look. 

Decidedly Uninspired

Dear Anonymous Reader,

Surprisingly enough, I haven't procrastinated this month as much as I generally do (except for now...not studying for a french test). Obviously, it's been a couple of weeks since I've written anything here. Truth be told, I haven't felt inspired enough (or at all) to write anything seemingly worth while (schoolwork aside...inspired only by deadlines and potential F's).

markjuleen.com

Not quite the inspiration I'm looking for, but kudos nonetheless

But if there's one thing I've learned over the last few years studying literature (while also trying to write some of my own), it's that inspiration (in most instances) has little to do with great works of art. It's the hard work and long hours endured when having to write draft after draft day after day all while experiencing rejection after rejection until finally something clicks (if it ever does) and the ball starts rolling.

The sad, simple truth, however, is that the majority of artists won't ever experience that. They'll live (and die) in obscurity.

Lovely prospects, eh?

So why write...or do anything at all? Because there's hopefully more in it for you than just money (but money would be nice), and all it takes is one divine moment of being in the right place at the right time with the right piece of art to see it realized on a large scale. But if you spend your life not doing anything, then that moment will most definitely never come (and even if it did, you wouldn't have anything to show for it).

So whether you think great works of art come about by this:

legacy.lclark.edu/faculty/jsmiller/objects/idea_bulb.jpg

If you're lucky

Or more realistically by this:

I don't have organizational  issues...honest.

...understanding that most anything significant requires attention, dedication, and overall hard work is the first step to seeing any piece of "creative genius" realized.

The hardest part, though, is getting started.

But more on that later.

Sincerely,

-Sean 

In Pursuit of Women (no means no...without that yes hiding behind it) Part 5

Dear Anonymous Reader,

In Part 3, I left off with how not taking no for an answer ends up becoming annoying and not really that Hollywood style romance we dorky guys hope for.

So on that note, there was this girl. In trying to keep things simple, I'll say that at the time she was simply the most beautiful girl that I had ever met.

Not her, but close enough

I was what, 14? It was the inbetweensie Jr. High years and we went to the same church. Even now, I honestly don't remember much about her except that every single guy wanted to be with her (by a modest estimate)...and she liked cars.

She didn't like me, though. Admittedly, I was probably a dork. At the very least, she tolerated my presence and entertained me with a few good conversations, but from what I remember, it never really went anywhere too significant. I did, however, at some point, gather the guts to ask the girl out.

And of course, she said no.

I'm the one on the right...except I'm a guy, he's the girl, and she's a dude too.
Alrighty then, moving on.

I don't blame her. Looking back, I'd've said no just as quickly. Looking back, I also would've slapped myself and said, "Leave it at that, ya blockhead! Once is enough."

But I was a persistent little sucker.

It eventually, to me anyway, just became a running joke. I'd call her up, we'd share some small talk for a little bit, and somewhere in the conversation I'd not so subtly sneak in, "So, how bout now, will you go out with me?"

"No."

"Aw, common, please?"

"No."

"Alright. See ya at church."

"Bye."

Paraphrased, but still pathetic, I know.

Needless to say, she dated the other guy (doesn't matter who, he's not part of the story) and I eventually moved on. But one thing I realized, regardless of how funny it might be looking back, is that asking her out over, and over, and over again probably wasn't the smoothest thing to do.

Not that I really even knew, or cared, what "smooth" looked like back then. I was 14 for cryin' out loud.

I did learn, however, that regardless of what that sneaky little demon of a heart tells you, if the girl says no (or God forbid gives you some lame excuse along the lines of, "It's not you, it's me,") leave it at that and just move on (at breakneck speed). It'll save you a lot of trouble and embarrassing stories later.

Oh yeah, and that girl's married now, has a kid, and is still beautiful. I hope she's happy.

I'm obviously still single, I have no real prospects, and I still don't have a clue what I'm doing.

But more on that later.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Writer's Block

Dear Anonymous Reader,

...

Sincerely,

-Sean

In Pursuit of Women (The Long Distance Improbability) Part 4

Dear Anonymous Reader,

The internet is, in short, glorious. A person can almost never leave their home and not be in want of anything. From Facebook to Netflix and all the other bajillion sites in between (you can even have your groceries delivered to your door), the internet is virtually full of limitless possibilities.

Well, this next girl was before all that went mainstream.

I was in Jr. High (I think), and I met this girl at a youth camp. It ended up turning into one of those short, week long crushes (only thing was, I'm pretty sure at the time she was more interested in my friend than in me), but we exchanged numbers/addresses anyway so we could write (snail mail...back in the day).

We ended up actually writing for a few months after that.

We'd write each other ever other week or so, and eventually got to calling each other pretty often. And surprisingly enough (and probably cause I didn't get the attention of any other girls around me), I actually really started to like this girl. So much so, I asked her to be my girlfriend in one of the letters...and she said yes.

Aw, how cute, huh? Yeah, sure, score one for Sean.

But like most guys my age (what, 13 maybe?), it was short lived. For me, not being able to see someone in person just plain sucked. So eventually, I broke it off...whatever you wanted to call some short lived long distance fling at 13 years old. And eventually, we stopped writing each other altogether.

Such is life.

I don't really count that one as a first girlfriend (argue if you like), nor this next one. Mainly because I was young and also, because of the distance, to me, it wasn't anything tangible anyway.

Now, on to Long Distance Chick numero 2.

This girl happened after the internet age invaded our home...which was later in Jr. High. I got sucked into the chat room scene and ended up talking to this one girl quite often. Her sn (screen name, for those post AIM) was godsgirl-something, and we'd talk almost every night.

To save time, it was roughly a repeat of the letters girl, except faster (and she was from Canada). This time, however, I had never met her in person.

Now sure, we could go on about how it could have been anybody...

Poltergeist, anyone?

...but for the sake of my sanity, we'll assume she was who she said she was.

But like the letters girl, this one faded almost as quickly after a couple of months. 

My lesson? No long distance.

Even though I was pretty young at the time, what I learned about myself is that I hate long distance relationships and will avoid them at all costs (and after over 10 years, nothing's really changed there). It's not that they're necessarily bad as much as they're just insanely difficult. Granted, some people posses the perfect mentality for it, but I'm not one of them. Barring an act of God, I want to be within short driving distance of whoever it is I'm dating.

Because truth be told, I'm a cuddler, and I wanna cuddle weekly...not every 6 monthlies. 

But seriously, I enjoy face to face quality time. Sitting in a coffee shop (even though I don't drink the stuff) talking, watching movies, playing music, taking walks, going out on dates more tangible than Skype, dancing to cheesy music in parking lots...all that sappy stuff.

Kind of hard to do when she's half a country away.

At any rate, as corny as long distance may be to some, and as perfectly logical to others, I can at least say I've dipped my toes in the proverbial water. I'm not vehemently against it...I just don't prefer it...at all. 

And I'm glad I got it over with early.

Sincerely,

-Sean

Everybody Leaves

Dear Anonymous Reader,


Some nights I'm lucky enough to be exhausted and just fall right to sleep. Other nights, though, thoughts get stuck in my over-analytical head and keep me up for hours.


Much like tonight.


The particular thought is this: A friend and I were discussing certain things about how each other acts and what has shaped our personalities. This friend is fairly guarded, and when I asked her why, she replied with something along the lines of, "Well, everybody leaves eventually. Helps keep me from getting hurt."


I couldn't agree more. Everyone does leave. Grandparents, parents, spouses, children, friends, strangers, pets, heck, even your car keys. Everybody some day will either move away, move on, get mad (or whatever) and exit the relationship, grow out of touch, or keel over and get buried six feet under.


Now, it's not all so immediate or pessimistic, but it's generally the way it goes.


So, needless to say, the only thing that has been running through my head for the past hour is "Everybody leaves." That phrase alone tends to suck the purpose out of everything for me. 


Eventually there will be no one left to share life with (unless I'm the lucky one who goes first).


But then, out of the silence, came this:

"The LORD is the one who goes ahead of you; He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” -Deuteronomy 31:8

I don't know the future, but He does. I can speculate and depress myself into some useless, heartless corner full of everything but sleep and relationship, but the truth is, He's already gone before me. He's already been there.


I have nothing to fear.


Even after everyone leaves, for whatever reason, He'll still be here sustaining me through it all.


Sustaining you through it all.


And bringing new life.


Sincerely,


-Sean 

Dear Anonymous Reader,


I was having a conversation with a friend the other night at the kiddie table in the children's section at the bookstore.


I never knew how much a tiny chair could hurt my back.


We were catching up on random things (I know, you're probably wondering why we were at the kiddie table and not at a regular table) and I asked her, "What's something I do or about my personality that just annoys the heck out of you?"

Now, as a side note, I generally don't go around asking people what annoys them about me. I know there are things that I do that annoy people, and honestly, I sometimes do them just because it annoys people (don't judge me, you do it too), but I try not to that often (since it is, in fact, annoying). Also, I think asking someone what annoys them about me can just get...well...annoying. But there are times when I genuinely want to make sure I'm not doing something repetitively obnoxious without realizing it (unless it's funny, of course, 'cause that fixes everything).

                                                                           sjapumbing.com.au
Like this guy

At any rate, the answer still surprised me. She said it was some random phrase that I ask her from time to time. It wasn't anything big, but it was just how I said it that she found annoying. You won't get the full effect, but it goes something like this:

"Sooo, how's everything going?"

Except I put a lot of emphasis on the "so" and "how" and make some weird face where she knows exactly what I'm asking about. It's usually something she doesn't wanna talk about at the time, and I just come off as being nosy. 


Which is a fair assessment, because I am being nosy.


I'm a nosy person, what can I say? I'd rather chalk it up to caring about what's going on in my friend's life (which I do), but I can honestly say that she was right in saying that sometimes I just wanna be in the know.

There's not much to this post aside from the fact that there are just some things we do, without realizing it, that for whatever reason annoy the crap out of people. Some may argue, "Well, they can just get over it," while others might just get too scared and change everything about themselves to please everyone else.

I believe there's a balance. I'm not sure exactly what that looks like, but I do know that it's the annoying things people do that make life interesting. I don't say that for the mere sake of giving myself an excuse (because excessive annoyance isn't really funny), but for the sake that I believe it's the little things, even if they get on your nerves, that spice life up a bit.

There's a need for a bit of tension. Nothing worse than a constant comfort zone...'cause then you don't really go anywhere.

Sooo, on that short note...

Sincerely,

-Sean

In Pursuit of Women (so smooth, Sherlock) part 3

Dear Anonymous Reader,

I've never been smooth with the ladies...at least not the ones I'm going after. As said before, almost all attempts to woo the opposite sex have ended in utter failure.

                                                           cracked.com
Metaphorically accurate

This girl, we'll call her Sue (I'll refrain from true names from this point on, thanks to Facebook), was my first real attempt to tell a girl how I felt about her. It was 5th grade, and like most kids my age who watched TV and lacked any sort of confidence when it came to talking to girls, I decided to write a note.

                                            georgestrait.com
Thanks for the great advice, Mr. Strait

I've since learned that although passing notes might make for a good, cutesy country song, they're generally the worst idea ever.

I think it was a page or two (my first mistake...keep it simple), and about the only thing I really remember of what it said (aside from the fact that I liked her) was that I liked the way she said "yo" when saying hello.

Yeah, it's the simple things.

At any rate, I didn't have the guts to just hand it to her, so I stuck it in her locker.

Mistake number two.

There's so much that can go wrong in the time between sliding it through those vents and her actually getting it. I can't remember now if she ever actually got it or if it just slipped out onto the floor, but the next thing I remember is someone totally random laughing about it (not her) and me finding it on my English teacher's desk unfolded and read by who knows how many immature people my age by the time it got there.

To say I was embarrassed is an understatement. Humiliated almost fits.

Sure, now I look back and laugh about it, and some might say, "Aw, but how cute is that?"

Not cute in the least when you're my 5th grade self. All it equaled was humiliated rejection.

The first of many.

I've written many notes since then (you'd think I'd've learned quicker not to after that mess). Most I don't remember, and most can't top that one. But what's really stuck with me is that no matter how well things may look in your head or on paper, the actual execution and potential outcome will most likely be much different.

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

But try not to leave incriminating evidence behind. Just tell her face to face how you feel. If she feels the same, awesome, more brownie points for you for having the guts to look her in the eye. If not, at least she doesn't have some cheesy, tangible confession to pass around afterward.

Oh, and if she says no, she means no. It might look cute in movies for a guy to be annoyingly persistent, and some might get lucky in real life, but 9 out of 10 times, you're just plain annoying.

But more on that later.

Sincerely,

-Sean

In Pursuit of Women (the self-inflicted mind games) Part 2

Dear Anonymous Reader,

So I just returned from a ski trip. It was a blast. There's nothing like a road trip with falling down a snowy mountain thrown into the midst. 

Or hitting a brick wall

That's not me, but it's how my body feels.

Road trips, even ones with a group of people, give me a lot of time to think. I thought a lot about the second girl I liked...or the one I remember anyway.

Her name was Danielle. It was 4th grade. She had dark hair and would say "Pooh!" a lot when stuff didn't go her way. I specifically remember a game of four square (a game I haven't played since elementary school and totally forgot about until writing this post) where "Pooh!" was thrown around a lot.

Nothing like a kid's version of the explicit word you don't make the connection to until almost 20 years later.

At any rate, what was special about this girl was she was the first one I ever dreamed about. I only had one dream about her, and it was short, and I vaguely remember what happened. We were in a dark ally (not sure why, but don't get dirty), and I remember just talking to her.

I had a simple, cheesy dream. So what?

Well, after that dream, I went from just liking her to really liking her. I can't remember how long that affection lasted, but it was at the very least all of fourth grade. I didn't ever make a move, I don't think (not much to go on when you're 10), and by 5th grade I was into someone else (my first super embarrassing moment), but I'll never forget the power that dream had. 

It still surprises me to this day how much dreams affect our feelings about things, especially feelings for other people. Ever since then, it never fails that if I dream about a girl I have feelings for, those feelings are reinforced, at least for a little while, that much more. And heck, if I dream about a girl I don't have feelings for, if it's anything dealing with affection, feelings are bound to show up for at least a little while.  

Source: Syracuse.com
This guy was all into that stuff, from what I hear

But as nice (I hope) as dreams can be about the person you like, personally, they just tend to tick me off. One, they're not real. Two, from past experience, they do nothing to help the situation. Three, it's like giving crack to the hormonal part of my brain that screams "I WANNA BE WITH THIS CHICK!"

Yeah, annoying, especially when they don't feel the same (which, in my track record, is all but one that I know of).

So, what I get to look forward to is a super long season of over-thinking the entire situation until I finally make a goof of myself, or until I somehow miraculously stop liking the girl. 

Here's to hoping for the second.

But more on the first later.

Sincerely,

-Sean 

The...

Dear Anonymous Reader,

"Expect the unexpected." 

Cliche advice. If I sit and think about it, it's obviously illogical. A more fitting phrase would be something like:

"Surprise! Have fun with that one, why don't ya!" 

Yeah, not much better. The whole issue with the unexpected is that it is, in fact, unexpected. There's no way to prepare for it...hence the title. So telling someone to prepare for what's unprepareforable (haha, yes, it made me laugh) is, of course, just to make you feel good.


It's a new year. A lot of people make resolutions. Nothing wrong with that. Goal-setting is always a good idea. I personally don't set any resolution for the simple reason that if I don't make any resolution, I don't have anything to be resolute about. 

I'll never let go, Jack!
Woops.
Now I'll just lie here, on a door, and sing to myself.

Kidding.

But really.

With a new year, some people are expecting the worst. Some are expecting the best. Some just don't expect anything. It's not that I don't make resolutions so I can be lazy and not commit to anything (although some may argue that...and argue it well), it's just that the whole new years resolutions thing, to me, is something most people do just because everyone else does.

It's the yearly fad.

So they feel guilty (or pressured) and do it too.

Jac Depczyk-Photographer's Choice-Getty Images

I will have sexy abs!

Which is why gym memberships are up the most in January, but come February, all those high-expectant newbies are nowhere to be found. 

Now don't misunderstand me. I'm not dogging New Years Resolutions, I'm dogging making resolutions just because it's New Years. Because then, it doesn't really mean anything. Sure, if you see something you genuinely want to change about yourself and this is the time you do it, awesome. But if you're going to commit to something, then commit. 

Tangent completed. 

Back to expectations. I'm planning on going on a road trip tomorrow. I'm hoping it's an awesome ski trip that will provide a whole van load of good memories. 

But I honestly don't know what will happen (which is half the fun).

The same goes for this next year. I expect to work and go to school. In fact, I expect to work and go to school for the next 2 or 3 years. But what I really know is that something is gonna change. Something will happen that I don't expect. Something will come out of left field some day and knock me off my feet like it always does. 

I hope it's good. But I know some things wont be. I had few this last year.

And I'll be surprised, but not really, because I'm expecting the unexpected.

Yeah, I just contradicted myself. 

Happens.

At any rate, I wish you all a happy new year. Through all the good expected times and through all the surprising and potentially terrifying unexpected times, may you be blessed and shown His greatness.

“Forget the former things; 
   do not dwell on the past. 
 See, I am doing a new thing! 
   Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 
I am making a way in the wilderness 
   and streams in the wasteland." -Isaiah 43:18, 19 

Sincerely,

-Sean