Kyrie

This is simply intolerable.

These feelings are overwhelming, and my own thoughts and the prayers I offer make no difference.

The title for this post is a song by a band I just discovered called Mammuth. Its the last song on their CD The Cardiac Defect, which is a great CD/band/song name for a Christian group. Kyrie is the vocative case form of the Greek word kurios, which means Lord. For those unaware, the vocative case denotes address or invocation. It is used when speaking to someone, such as, "Lord, if its you, tell me to come." In that sentence, Lord, is in the vocative case.

This ties in to the word's use as a proper noun and its relevance here. Kyrie is used as the abbreviated reference to a Christian prayer written anonymously sometime around 1000 AD, and is commonly used in some Lutheran churches, and more widely in (stylistically) orthodox churches such as the Roman Catholic Church, a variety of eastern Orthdox churches, and lots of the old east African denominations. The full name of the prayer is kyrie, eleison. Which is anglicanized Greek meaning, "Lord, have mercy".

And that's what Mammuth's song is about. And that's how I feel.

I need mercy.

In the end it may not be a sign that convinces me to fight, but rather the desperation of needing these feelings to disappear. These feelings that travel in the opposite direction. But even as I voice that thought I don't totally trust it. I just keep remembering what Jonathan said. That it took him 2 years to get over his fiancee and date again.

But I simply can't take this crap. Two years? However you shake it that just sounds like a horrendous amount of time to feel this way. I'd comfort myself by saying I'm sure it'll get better, but it already did, and now its back. And its not getting better. I understand process and refinement and all that, but this is simply absurd. It so makes me wonder.

It makes me desperate to date again. It makes me wish to step outside myself and ask someone out tomorrow night at Kairos. To call people I know and see if they'll set me up with someone they know. It makes me want to call Amber and explain why I acted so funny. It . . . it makes me want to do ANYTHING to get this awful taste out of my mouth. To escape these feelings. To let go. To "move on". Even as I know that doing those things would be unfair, and ultimately unfruitful, even if "moving on" is where this is all supposed to lead.

I hate this post. I hate feeling this way. I hate having to talk about it and the way it all sounds.

So I'm left with the awful cry of a personalized lyric from the titular song:
"For this [I] come to You, and beg for mercy."

How far? How long? How much?

Unless you're unbelievably dense it is presumable you've noticed the application of a new template to the blog. I'm not entirely sold on it, but I think its an improvement. Obviously there are some small programming issues, like the partially hidden nav links above the body area. And I'd also like control over the "post info" elements that are currently stuck in that grey box underneath the post titles. Alas, the world is imperfect.



So what's been going on since Thursday? More importantly, does it really matter? I really feel like I'm about to spend an inordinate amount of time rehashing things I've said before. The end result is loss of time for me to be doing other things, like reading, writing, or sleeping, in addition to loosing the interest of you, the readership.



Friday was quite an interesting day. Was mildly productive for work, though some of it was merely working to find out there was a lot more to do, to the point that I'm now wondering which concern will give way. I know its hard to talk deep and ambiguous, but you'll have to trust me.



Friday night was quite the curious state. I was without arrangements, not a terribly unusual situation these days. But this was different. I was feeling incredibly restless. Which, while having other potential causes, is commonly a way for God to get your attention for an incoming message.



My prayer journal for the day probably didn't start until 8 or 9 pm.



"What do You want from me?"



Break as I go do other things.



"I don't want to hear You. I don't want to open my Bible.

I mean, ultimately I do . . . but . . . .

Am I afraid? Maybe. If so, of what?

I think of hearing You and dismissing it as me, and so thinking I don't hear You and drawing further away."



"I miss her. I miss everything about her."



"Fine, I'm here. Do what You want. Just please draw near. Don't make this for nothing."



That was followed by my first private worship time in I'm not sure how long. And it was wonderful. Listening to some quiet worship music. Turning the words over in my head. Trying to focus in on Christ. I was pretty well against an unaided listening session, even though I figured that's where it had to go, so I grabbed my Bible.



I prayed for God to speak to me and opened my Bible. 2 Chronicles 29, "Hezekiah purifies the temple". Now I supposed I should be far more impressed or awed by the consistent reoccurence of Hezekiah in my listening expeditions, but those feelings are definitely mitigated by the fact I have no idea what it means.



But I was distracted and I knew it. I pleaded with God in my pj to take Heather off of my heart, specifically mentioning the pain it was causing me.



Despite my not having been convinced by anything that's gone on recently, it has made me aware enough to not let certain questions leave my mind. So I asked God if I should fight for Heather.



I opened my Bible and was faced with Luke 19:11-26, "the parable of the ten minas". And that is undoubtedly a very curious happenstance.

For those of you who are unaware, that passage played a large part in Heather and I originally getting together. I had met Heather in a very unusual way, appearing as the most or least random happenings imaginable, depending on the viewpoint. Not long thereafter I went to Lake Champion to work on Young Life Summer Staff for a month. While there I had a conversation about meeting Heather described brefily in this post. The gist of it was a very wise and Godly person telling me they couldn't imagine why I'd met her if I wasn't supposed to pursue her. Well I went and prayed about it that night. And again the next day. And when I went to do my quiet time I prayed about whether I should pursue Heather, and then I opened my Bible, and it was the parable of the ten minas. And given the nature of the parable itself, in combination with the proximity of a similar word from Beth Ann, it seemed a pretty clear sign. And now it appears again.

Still, recent times have made me quite the doubting Thomas, or just as closely Peter on the water. So I again asked God if He wanted me to fight for her. When I opened my Bible it was at Habakkuk, chapter 2. I looked down and the first verse I saw was verse 2.

"The LORD's Answer
2 Then the LORD replied: "Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald [b] may run with it. 3 For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it [c] will certainly come and will not delay."

Now I don't know what you would think, but when I ask God a question and then open my Bible to a passage that starts with "Then the Lord replied" y interest is fairly well piqued. Still I am unconvinced, helped in part by the overall criptic nature of the response passage.

So I pray twice, more, asking God twice more if I should fight. The responses are Mark 4:35-41 where Jesus calms the storm, and Ephesians 3:16-19, which is Heather's favorite scripture passage, and one we discussed at length while in our letter writing stage.

Mildly frusterated I lay down and put on some Hammock to do a stretch of pure listening. I find myself hearing things that I'm sure most of you can fairly easily guess. So I dismiss them and try to clear my head to actually hear Him. With the end result being more of the same, and eventually nothing. My response was this:

"Lord, I've laid here for 30 minutes, at Your bidding, and all I've heard was of her. I lover her Lord, I cannot helpt it any more than I can keep the sun from rising. But there is nothing I can do. Please, Lord, intervene.

Lord, I wasnt someone else. I want to want someone else. I want to be okay being with someone else, and not dissapointed. If I am wrong, catch me, change me. But don't let nothing happen. Save me, somehow. Bring me someone, bring her back, give me peace in singlehood.
But do something, for I simply can't take this."

So my reaction to everything should be fairly predictable by this point. I called an ex from high school to see what she was doing and if she wanted to get together soon. I made one prayer journal entry the next day asking God to take Heather off my heart. I continually find myself being so angry that I can't take less of an interest in that part of my life. Just wanting it to fade and dissappear. More so just wanting memories of and feelings for her to be removed.

So far today I have one entry in my prayer journal, to that same effect.

"Please, Lord, take her off my heart."

This is unsatisfactory.

On the upside, the cookout tonight was a blast, though perhaps the best part was sitting around with just a few folks after it was officially over and talking way late into the night. But that should be no surprise. I love people, I love Jesus, I love real and deep conversations that involve good laughter, or sometimes not. And I love it when those things mix.

I'd like to think that this Tuesday will bring some sort of clarity but I already know its about sex, because Mike prefaced it last time saying it would be a mature night.

I'm not sure what God wants. But either way, I'm not sure of how to achieve it. I've tried every mental comfort I can to move one. Telling myself whatever I can think of as to how I'm better off. But I don't believe any of it. And if I'm being told to fight, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

I'm not sure if I really truly want someone else, or I just want to avoid doing something there. Or if I do that to legitimize what I think I'm hearing.

And I wish I could give all this crap up.

I'd love to sit down and actually write one of the academic posts I've been sitting on for only God knows how long. The unattractiveness of the gospel. The nature of slavery and freedom in relation to righteousness. Last week's Cake, last weeks' Kairos.

But this stuff consumes me, in part because I actually saw a picture of her tonight. Blurry, from a distance, and thought my heart my rip itself apart. Felt the heat of anger and loss.

Oh how I wish I could leave all this behind.

Lord, I am a willing servant. Lord, tear me apart. Lord, save me, but make me beautiful first.

With each passing wave we'll change

well . . . I've procrastinated as much as I could. I've spent a good two hours not writing this. But now its time. I have a lot to say, s0me just disparate snippets. Some . . . . And see now my thoughts are all fragmented and I can barely remember everything. I'll be struggling to pull this all together. I don't even have any music playing because it was distracting me. That's how bad it is.

Where does to start?

Apparently I've picked up a rather bad habit. Or perhaps its a blessing I haven't recognized yet. Regardless, in the past two weeks I've been put in excellent positions to ask out very attractive young ladies 5 times, and done absolutely nothing about it. It actually happened twice yesterday. I was initially unhappy about going to Kairos by myself, and spent last week wondering who I could take with me, but then I realized that the last two weeks, when I've gone by myself, I've ended up right next to attractive women.

As I left the church last night I actually found myself wondering if God had gotten in the torture business and was testing this method out on me. Here after a good month and a half hiatus, feelings and memories of Heather return, nearly five months after the engagement ended. The feelings do not abate despite prayers for their removal. And after dealing with those for nearly a month, I start meeting lots of attractive girls, after a hiatus from that as well. Delightful.

On the upside, I've begun developing repellent phrases, the answer to pick up lines and come-ons. Observe:

"Hi" Says bubbly blonde in the trendy dress.

"Hello" Responds presently sour main character in polo and jeans.

"I'm _______"

"I'm Zach"

"Are you a regular?" I nod. "How do you like the Summer of Love series?"

"Its okay, kind of tough to get into because I'm a polygamist."

:: Begin period of awkward staring. Followed by nervous laughter on blonde's part. ::

:: Sip tea and keep straigt face, never breaking eye contact ::

And that, dear readers, is how you end a conversation with a young Christian woman.

I should be shot.

So here I am, seemingly still in love with my ex-fiancee I haven't talked to in half a year, wishing desperately that I could let go of that, wondering if God still wants me to fight for her, as He undoubtedly did at one point, wishing I could all thoughts of dating in general, yet desperately wanting that kind of contact, whether through general desire, or misplaced readings of God-based desire for her, coming into semi-frequent contact with attractive young ladies in situations that facilitate asking out, while simultaneously not finding them good enough and wondering when I'll come into contact with attractive young women in situations that facilitate asking out. All while God seems silent on this area. You could say I operate on the principle of duplicity in thought. At least in regards to this.

As long as we're talking about never being satisfied, everyone will remember how I was previously complaining about this job situation. Or at least voicing my uneasiness. Well last night I was praying about whether or not God wanted me to do this, and sure enough, "ask, seek, knock."

See on my way over to church tonight I was thinking about how excited I'd been initially, and how it kind of seemed ordered by God at the time. Which led me back to the issue of obedience in the absence of passion, and so forth. Then tonight at church Stephen led our study on doubt. Particularly doubt of one's own abilities in regards to calling. We used the story of Moses calling at the bruning bush, and his silly response.

Then, as if I needed more encouragement, I went with some people to hang out at Starbucks, and ended up talking about 912 Park almost the whole time. My friend Luke is extremely interested in helping out, which is really my first jump on volunteer, somebody I didn't have to bug to do it. And then these two other guys started talking to me about it, and eventually there were 6 people, standing out in the parking lot kicking stuff around. And I'll admit it, it got me excited. So there. We'll see what happens. There's a lot to be done and lots of questions. But what can I do other than trust?

So what else? Struggling with discontent, wondering why, seeing connections I don't like there. Still having some academic posts I'd like to throw down. So on.

I'm sure I had more to say when this all started, but then I delayed for two hours and I feel like I'm leaving this post unfinished. There are thoughts still swimming around upstairs but I can't grasp them enough to put them out here. So much the luckier you are I suppose.

I am back amongst the wind and the waves.

The real problem is perhaps that I've not been as near to Jesus lately as I've been in the past. And that has to change.

"Well . . . here I am."

Props to anyone who knows where the title comes from.  Its a brilliant moment that I hope I do not regret using here and not elsewhere.

So . . . I have not had a good night.  Nothing particularly bad has happened, but I've been listening to very bad music all evening.  Now this can be seen either as an effect, due to badness already existing, or could simply be the badness in itself.  I guess we'll never know.  Probably the former.

It started with me listening to Led Zepplin, which I don't include in the bad.  Far from it.  I'd say Led Zepplin would be in the running for my top band of all time, despite my deference for Christian artists.  Really its a toss-up between them and CCR in my mind, but I digress.

Then I started listening to the Foo Fighters.  That was my mood.  Their are not particularly bad, but not great either.  A lot of their music, the harder stuff at least, has not aged well, leaving just a few songs that I'll really listen to.

Then I had the urge to listen to Fall Out Boy, which in spite of its catchiness, is surely an affront to music.  And now, well for the last hour and a half or so I've been listening to techno/electronica on Pandora.  Which I'm surprised is not illegal.

BTW, apparently 99% of blog templates come in three types:  niche styles (like technology or baseball blog templates), extremely basic (not classy, boring), and the largest group, female-esque.  The few, let's say four, that I've found that I liked ended up not working.  Poor programming or something.  So . . . for now we remain disappointingly basic.  I'm still on the hunt though, this needs to look more put together.

And now I'm not sure I can avoid the meat any longer . . .

Except to say that reminds me that in high school I dated a vegetarian once, which I loved because it was really inexpensive to take her out.

So after all my complaining the other day, which I've removed from the blog, perhaps to be put back up in an edited form, but its doubtful, it happened.

Today Phil offered me the job as the Director of 912 Park.  So I have an opportunity to have one of my top 5 dream jobs, managing a concert venue.  And . . .

I'm not sure I want it.  Don't get me wrong, barring an act of God I'm going to accept, its just . . . .  I don't feel satisfied.  I'd like something that had less business and more ministry, or more business so I could do different ministry.  I'd like to be in a different place, geographically.  I'd like to have different church options/be set up.  I'd like . . . .   Peace.  I'd like to feel at peace.

But . . . I've prayed for this.  I should be excited.  There is good in this.  And there's not really many other choices.  Besides moving to Florida to work at Southwind . . . which now that I think about it . . . .

Anyhow . . .

Its been a few days since I've written a post, and yes I'm aware.  Its been a combination of things.  A lack of will, a lack of time.  At once I feel I've had quite a bit to say, and yet not much at all.  I've had, and have, lots I want to share about more intellectual topics.  I still haven't covered the nature of individualism and its effect on and influence by the church.  I still haven't talked about this discussion I had the other day on dispensationalism.  And I STILL haven't talked about that Arch of the Covenant book in depth.  Yet everything personal I had to say, really just seemed like old ground.  Covering old ideas with new words and peddling them just to put something out there.

Additionally, I'm thinking of instituting a new rule which forbids me from writing blog posts within a certain time limit of going to an MMA gym.  I typed one out the other night and deleted it.  Sometimes they come of as angry, other times as arrogant.  Either way, not delightful.

My dog is snoring.

So, not that I want to, but because its been a theme of the blog, and its part of my life/and heard no matter what I'd prefer, let's talk about Heather.

The last few days have not been any better in terms of missing/thinking of her.  I've tried to keep up the idea of praying for God to take it away, a tack that has yet to work.  And so out of sheer desperation, I have, of course, resorted to praying for reconciliation, which is a frustrating turn of events for sure.  But it does actually make the feelings/memories go away, at least for a few minutes.  As part of trying to rid myself of those by other means however, I realized something.  At some point I thought of it as a desire problem, so I treated missing her/having feelings for her as a temptation, and tried to combat it.  Unfortunately, every thought to that end is a product or producer of bitterness.  Whatever the actualities of all this are, apparently there is no peace of God in denying Heather's goodness and my desire for her.  Which is probably a reflector of what I should be doing.

Conversely, I've found myself at times wishing I'd asked that girl from Kairos out.  True I still can't help but find Heather a superior specimen of woman, so in a way it would feel like settling, and there'd be an inescapable rumble of disappointment underneath.  True, even if I could deal with that, the way I feel certainly makes it unfair for me to take someone else out.   [Insert hefty sigh].  Even so I wish I'd asked her out.  Call it wanting to force myself to move on.  Call it loneliness.  Heck, call it boredom.  I'm upset I didn't do it.

Unfortunately, it appears as though I may not get a chance in the near future to ask someone else out.

Tonight I was talking to my friend Amanda and she asked me when and why I quit fighting for Heather.  I started to answer, but realized I couldn't.  I had no real idea.  So I went back through the blog and my prayer journal trying to pinpoint it.  On the upside, I found the exact day, more or less.  Though there is a certain amount of fluidity to the whole thing, and though I was struggling within a few days of the whole process fighting, there is still a pretty clear line.  On the night of May 25 I was praying and God, showing patience with my doubt, told me again to fight for her.  And after that, there's one mention of it until the conversation with Emily covered in this post.  So that's the when.

As for why . . . I couldn't find a reason.  I suppose covering that was that a little over a week later I got interested in somebody else, and then God told me to ask her out, so I figured that was it.  But alas, even that doesn't necessarily mean what I thought it did at one time.  I can't remember who, but somebody said recently that going out with someone else could just show me how much I wanted Heather . . . and they didn't even know about Amber.  I really wish I could remember more of that conversation.

So that's when, and a very rough answer as to why, which doesn't make me feel very good.  So now I come back to a question I've been asking myself for the last two days.  Is God not saying more because He's already said it?  Should I STILL be fighting.  Crap.

But we see its been a month since that conversation with Emily, with no real progress.  In fact in some ways regress.  Now I have feelings for her again.  Now . . . blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.  More stupid crap that doesn't matter.

Also, Amanda happened to compare to Abraham leaving Ur.  Which Emily did not 4 days after I was told to fight for Heather to tell me not to give up.  And that was not Amanda's point, ostensibly, which leads me to wonder if it really was.

Not that it means anything, but how do I feel?  I want to be with her, I won't lie about that.  But there is no part of me that wants to go after her or fight for her.  I get angry when I think that I might have to humble myself and pursue her, letting her know how I feel, having a sense of how she'd react.  Pity, slight anger, regret over having been with me at all.  The result is that in a moment of either harbored desperate loss, or blinding clarity, I told God if He wanted us together she was going to have to be moved to contact me.  Oh yeah, this is all quite healthy.

Truth be told I doubt I'll do anything about any of this.  I'll just keep waiting for another sign.

And that, my dear friends, is a collection of things I wish I could go back and erase.  I wish I'd never written it.  I wish I didn't have anything to say or think or feel or remember about her.  But I do.  And it has to be put down here.

I am seething frustration.

So, now on to stuff that really matters.

I'm still screwing around about finding a church for Sundays or just going back to CIL.  I blame it on helping with the renovation, which is taking forever, which I do, but . . . I know I could get out of it.  Its a good excuse.

And its not like I'm not getting fed.  I've got Kairos on Tuesday nights, which is incredible, and I've still been praying and reading the Letter everyday.  But I am missing community, even one that wasn't that deep.

Now, another product of my conversation with Amanda, and another recent conversation with someone else, is the realization that apparently I need to make a clarification about the blog.  A number of the things mentioned here are not constant thoughts but rather mobile thoughts.  Some I fight against, if I have God direction heading the other way.  Some just go on their own.  Some I put here as interactive conversation pieces, and some I make knowing that the opposite is really true, using them as a literary device to better explain my state of mind.  Not literally but through more intricate exposition.  This blog uses many different literary elements.  It uses narrative.  It uses internal display.  It uses intellectual/spiritual discourses.  Sometimes I provide stories.  Sometimes I provide answers.  Sometimes I ask questions.  And sometimes I just show you the ugly innards of process.  This is high-minded writing.  Remember that.

In other news, two times this week people have come to me seeking advice and have thanked me after I tried to keep from giving any.  I just asked some God questions.  What's interesting is the essential subject matter.  Staying true to the course.  In one case trusting God while facing troubling and uncertain times.  In one case following God's will as it has been revealed, despite present circumstances that seek to draw you elsewhere.  And those sound so familiar.  I'm tempted again to relegate them to pieces of the past.  Or places where lessons learned are past on.  But I can't help but wonder if they should apply to the now as well.

Tomorrow will start early, end late, and be exhausting in between.  Nice.

Here's hoping I didn't forget anything.  Here's praying I draw nearer to God.  My one and only.

Suggestions?

I'd like to jazz up the blog, so I'm looking for templates.  Any suggestions?

In Place Of Hope

Haha.  Wow.  That was incredibly predictable.

I got a text today telling me to be at a certain place at a certain time for an interview for the job I was whining about last night.  Of course I'm going.  I'm tempted to say I was being childish somehow, but on second thought . . . .  Is it being overly sensitive and finicky to expect integrity from others?

Also, my desire to remain single lasted about a day.  On the upside I thought about Heather considerably less today than in days past.  On the other hand little stupid things happened like hearing a song she used to sing to me, and seeing a truck from her hometown while stuck in traffic.  Stuff that happens all the time.  Or . . . never.

Because of the traffic I got to Kairos late, again by myself.  It was so crowded that I stood.  In the back.  At the top of the stadium seating.

And here's where things get even more predictable, and ridiculous.

I had walked in the door and realized I wasn't going anywhere, so I just leaned against the door frame and stayed put.  A few minutes later this very attractive and well dressed young lady comes in and has nowhere to stand but next to me.  I forget about it and listen to the message.

Whereas last week was about men of God, Mike did this week on women of God.  So on and so forth.  All good stuff.  Not as many notes because it wasn't quite as applicable to me, though there was good stuff in there, from a ministerial/academic standpoint, and a personal one.  And I was standing.  Its harder to write standing up.

Anyhow, at the end, Mike has all the guys stand up again, and tells us to pray for the girls.  The girl I was standing next to was kneeling down.  So I knelt next to her and put my hand on her shoulder (we were told to) and I prayed for her.  Rise, closing worship.  As we're leaving she grabs me and thanks me for praying for her.

So here I am.  In a situation reeking with coincidence, which doesn't always mean randomness.  I'm standing face to face with an extremely attractive young lady.  I have a perfect in to talk to her.  And I just say some nonsense about it being no trouble and she walks on, with me falling in to step a few feet back.

And now here I am, 2 hrs later, wishing to heck I'd just asked her if she wanted to grab coffee or something stupid like that.

And that's me in a nutshell.  No real direction.  No guidance.  Constant inconsistency.  Which is tantamount to predictability.

Its almost like I can determine how I'll feel or what will happen tomorrow but what I say in the blog tonight.  Which would be fantastic if the changes actually meant something.  But they don't.

On the similarly crazy side I'm going to Godwhy tomorrow.

My problems there are actually more than what I said yesterday.  A few weeks ago Jenn decided that Wednesday nights would take a more focused platform with more Bible and a little more related academics.  There is only one problem with that.

Most of her Biblical history follows the liberal (see academic mainstream) view.  Case in point, recently we were discussing the Gospels and Jenn mentioned the idea of "Q".  For those who are uninitiated, "Q" is the needless and silly idea that the Synoptic Gospels were at least partially copied from another source.  I have trouble deciding which of element of this is most ludicrous.  The idea that the same Gospels accused of being historically inaccurate due to discrepancies are also accused of being so similar as to be copied?  Or the idea that no contemporary non-canonical writings make reference to such a work?  Or the idea that three authors, one of whom was being paid upfront to conduct his research, would feel comfortable to copy from a source, in a small, highly knowledgeable, and rabidly faithful community?  In my mind the most ridiculous idea is that while the writings of the New Testament have more surviving manuscripts of closer historical origin (modern dating of writing in comparison to occurrence of events) than any other ancient writings, despite repeated efforts to completely destroy the writings, there is no physical evidence for a "Q" source.

The idea of "Q" as well as post 70 A.D. dating for the Gospels, and a hundred other ideas are are not historical ideas.  They are almost universally modern creations.  In most cases its the result of spiritually faithful people wanting to appear academically acceptable by such positions, or in fact thinking that such non-traditional approaches are more academically sound, by virtues unknown.  Regardless, at best, every idea of Biblical history I've heard that countermands tradition is unprovable.  And most are quite easily dismissed, at least by people who pay attention.

So what's my point in talking about so much crap most people don't care about?  Every week for the last few weeks there's been some kind of mention of an idea like this.  What is troubling about it is that Jenn, as the leader, presents the ideas as fact.  No, these ideas are not ultimately harmful to the faith.  People can believe them and still by followers.  But their just not right.  At best they are theories.  And in a time when the church needs to push for greater Biblical literacy among believers, teachings such as this are . . . .  I don't know.  Their not harmful per se.  They're just not right.  And that bugs me.

I was doing some evaluation on the way home and I had some realizations.  The other day, after the rafting weekend, when I talked about not wanting to date some one, what I really didn't want was being close.  Talking on the phone.  What I'm itching for is some companionship.  As constancy I'm not sure.  I know I want a best friend.  Some guy I spend more time with than the people I do know.  Someone here that knows what's going on with me.  That here's me say the things I write here.  But I'm back to wanting a date, and episodes like tonight don't help.  I'm not sure how much the latter is a result of the former, I just know its there.

Hearing Mike talk about Godly women.  About what they are like, about the beauty that comes from them.  About the love and beauty that overflow from a heart seeking Christ.  As he said it, as he talked about a woman like that, I could feel that desire swelling in my heart.  And, I felt I'd seen it before.  Seen that beauty that comes so much more from within.  So now I'm stuck wanting that, and feeling that I've been there before and lost it, and want it back.

The worst part is that even as I wish I'd asked that girl to go to Fido with me . . . I still think Heather is a superior woman.  She's more attractive, has a better voice, radiates God's love more readily, and. . . .  What ridiculousness.  Not only am I saying all this crap, I'm saying it in the present tense.

I still wish I'd asked that girl out.

This is predictable insanity.

This is constancy in place of hope.

This is continuous shifts of feeling and conviction and belief.

And I know this inconsistency, is surmountable.  I've done it.  But right now I have no truth to hold onto and ride out the opposing waves.

On the upside, the last song of tonight talked about God rescuing us, which is a word I've been using with regularity in my prayer journal, so that could be a good sign right?

I finally got my Zune back (the second time) and its now working, so that only took, one month and one week from when it first broke.  Anyhow, today on my way to Kairos I was listening to Showbread and I heard this line that just clawed at my heart.

"Whisper something to me, so I can hear Your voice

I'm pushing You away, my will be done, it is my choice"

Yeah.  That's me.  Wanting so desperately.  Knowing its right there.  Knowing I'm the reason I can't hear, but not even sure what it is I'm doing.  Everything I hear right now I just suppress, call it my own heart, call it temptation.  Call it anything.  Would it help if it were louder?

I think I'll head to the gym in the morning.  Nothing empties out your head like a little violence.

Removal

I think I have to move.

I'm not sure where. I'm even less sure of how. I just think this might be the case.

Yesterday didn't go quite as expected . . . which was a high estimate of improving somewhat, and a low estimate of at least not getting worse. Well . . . you can always dream big right?

And now I'm sitting here forcing myself to pound this stuff out, as a last resort means of not completely retreating. Excellent.

Maybe I'll move to Long Island with Glenn.

And . . .

Two days have passed since the last post and my thoughtlife situation has grown increasingly disquieting. Rather than decreasing, my thoughts of Heather have been increasing. Indeed today I felt sexual desire. For her. After not seeing or speaking to her for 4 months. Where does that come from. Despite constant prayers to have her removed from my heart and thoughts. Nothing. Finally exasperated I took a rather abrupt change in tactics. So I started praying for us to be reunited. And then the thoughts abated. I suppose I would find that frustrating but I really don't care. I was just glad to be rid of her. To be rid of those memories. If I knew exactly where to "accidentally" knock my head with the right amount of force to purge myself of all that, I would.

Alas what was holding me back before was the spiritual insights I gained from the whole exercise, but now those are increasingly difficult to hand onto.

On the subject of more good news, I'll have to start with a precursor. After things ended with Heather I, of course, did some self evaluation. One of the things I considered was the fact I felt I'd become soft, though to what extent exactly I'm not sure. Certainly it was not her fault, and I think there were a multitude of factors, but it was such. The way I took to describing this was that I had, "lost my teeth", a phrase tying in my fascination with lion imagery and association.

So last night I had a dream. I can't remember the surround details, some sort of trip, with people I knew, nice but old surroundings. And then my teeth fell out. I looked down and saw them, discolored, with the insides looking like pieces of cardboard. I tried shoving some of them back in, and for that effort I experienced a new sensation. Pain, in a dream. Pain so real it made me sure I was not experiencing a dream. I looked down and saw the blood running out of my mouth into my my hand, touched my gum and felt the stinging pain. Never before.

And I've made another decision I'm sure I'll stick with until I get a conflicting urge. Suddenly I'm steadfastly sure I just want to live the rest of my life alone. It is mostly this quiet feeling at the pit of my stomach and in my heart that when I ever I consider a female I compare her to Heather and find her lacking. So the idea is just to gird up now. Settling would just be idiotic. As would doing essentially anything but nothing in that area.

On the upside this is pushing for a kind of honesty with God. There are no niceties in our conversation right now. I'm barely holding onto the precepts that maintain faith in these dark times, but our interactions are . . . one sided and reeking of desperation.

But such is the nature . . . if you hold on, and trust, and pray, eventually He comes through.

Right?

This is how you spell disaster

Rafting was great, thanks for asking.

I'd like to write a nice long post, realizing that last night I completely forgot my original point about the whole gay article, because I got lost in its relation to the devotional I read.  My original reason for wanting to write about it was because of the author's examination of the press of individualism in America and what the church has to done to contribute to it.  Interesting stuff right?

But I'm tired and I'm determined not to be exhausted tomorrow, so here's the what:

Today I've been singularly incapable of getting Heather off my mind.  Its been in tons of external reminders and little nuggets, some mundane, some bordering on miraculously unfortunate (oxymoron?).  But I doubt I'd need them at all.  The majority of my prayer journal entries today (and I'm so glad I'm back to having multiples per day, ever since Tuesday) have been some variation of, "Please Lord, take her off my heart.  I don't want to think about her.  Its making me sad.  And it won't go away on its own."  Yeah . . . this is great.

But that's enough to make a stink out of is it?  I'm feeling extremely restless tonight, so I should spend time with God, but why, instead, am I on here writing a post?

I was trying to unweave some of the craziness that is my brain and my thought process and here is what I stumbled upon.  Yes, I love Heather.  Yes, I still want to be with her.  But I'll be darned if I'm going to do a gosh darn thing about it.  I said it the other night, I love her, I just don't care that I do.

Now in partial defense of myself, I'm truly believe I don't have enough, or good enough, signs to determine that my feelings, or actions based on them are God's will.  And that is a perfectly legitimate reason for my commitment to inaction.  However, I recognize the presence of a pretty decent collection of potential signs of present, and significant, though now in doubt, signs of the past.  So I do realize I'm playing a dangerous game.  I can feel that I'm about a hair away from putting my foot down to God and telling Him I just won't do it.

The good news is, I'm invariably His man.  Despite my rhetoric, I will do whatever He wants.  But if that's it, its just gonna take a serious bit of convincing.

But what would be enough for this muddled and overactive mind?

At least my intentions are good.  I truly and honestly just want to do the right thing.

Then again perhaps the "lack of clarity" is indeed the answer I'm not willing to see.

Ugh.  I really hope tomorrow is a good day.

Until what God requires is what I desire

I sincerely hope I don't get overly esoteric during this post. I can guarantee that I will try not to. Ever since Dr. Dawsey got onto me my sophomore year about writing more plainly I've done my best to write in a more easily accessible manner when discussing theological issues. It helps when I place it in a more practical framework, like my little rant on grace a few weeks ago, but its there, and its tough to overcome.

What I find really interesting about this, though it won't have nearly the same impact for all of you, is how this post, before I even started writing it, moved from a place of abstract theological examination to one of personal issues as well. So where did it all start?

Late in the day, while already considering that I should look at going to bed since I have to be at GodWhy at 6:45 for another rafting trip, I had the urge to . . . do more than what I was. I'd worked on the loft (the room over our garage we're renovating) all day and then spent the evening reading. I decided to finally check my email and just felt . . . kind of compelled. So I went to ChristianityToday.com. I was intending to do the daily men's devotional but whenever I go I go through the main site so I can see if there are any features or other articles I want to read. The only one that caught my attention today was titled, "Is The Gay Marriage Debate Over?" Having written my final paper in my favorite college course on the subject of homosexuality (as an archetype for a Christian approach to socio-political issues), the pervasive nature of this discussion in our society, and my experiences with current and past gay friends, the article naturally drew my attention.

An interesting subject in its own right, I judged it bordered too closely on politics for me to feel comfortable talking about given my new stand-off approach. But then I read the men's devotional. The title was "Reducing Temptation's Pull" but the grander point was about submitting to God's will. Indeed the response prompt is where I drew this post's title, "An instance in which what God requires has become my desire is . . . ." Indeed I see a pattern here.

I am about to say something unpopular.

There is no way to reconcile  homosexuality with a Biblical worldview.  At least not one that is consistent.  Sorry if that bites you hard and you're angry now.  It just is.  I won't go into reasons, but suffice it to say, there'd be a long way to go to convince me otherwise, during which you'd have to simultaneously invalidate a number of other sins as from being characterized as such.  So we'll take it as a foregone conclusion, because it is, and move on.  Because that's not really the point.  Don't get caught up here.

See I haven't always felt that way.  No, no.  When I was in high school I was about as liberal as they come, including believing that we should abolish monetary units.  Yeah, no money.  Brilliant.

Anyhow, my real point here is that when you come to Christ, you agree to give up everything.  Whether you know it or not, whether you do it or not, you are saying that everything you think and do and believe is now under His purview.

If you ever want confirmation of an idea from a Christian viewpoint, expose it to secular society.  In my senior year of college I took a class called "Mediated Consumption and Personal Identity" which attempted to examine and explain the development of human personality and behavior.  I was the only Christian in the class.  And one of only two conservatives.  Due to the nature of what we studied every single day was a potential battle, which sometimes I chose to engage in and others I just had to pray.  Towards the end of the class I remember having nearly everyone in the class agree that it was wrong for me (i.e. Christians) to vote based on their religious beliefs.  Mind you they weren't saying we didn't have a right to vote, simply that our vote shouldn't be a result of our beliefs.  I'll point out the absurdity of trying to enforce and idea like that, as well as how it reflects many people's view of the Constitution merely for the sake of humor.

That right there is all the confirmation I need for an idea that should be so intrinsic to faith yet is shockingly common.  Christ will not stand for compartmentalization of faith.  "If you want Me, you get the whole thing."  Christ Himself was not immune from this.

John 6:38

 "For I have come down from heaven to do the will of God who sent me, not to do my own will" 

Jesus, even as God, was subject to the Father's will.  Should we expect any less for ourselves?  Should we expect that any part of our lives should not be the domain of the vine from which we draw life?  Is it even possible to truly take from God and yet close off parts of our hearts or minds?  When you give your life to Christ, you give it all.

And yet I can see where I compartmentalize this very idea itself.

See there were a few things I left out of my post the other night.  Nothing truly intentionally.  Some of it was not fully formed yet, some of it just didn't seem important enough, or I just forgot.  But given the raising of this issue, they have become important.

I failed to mention the other night that after a hiatus who's length I'm rather fuzzy on, I have begun dreaming again.  None in a way I'm anywhere near ready to describe as God breathed, well, perhaps one, but its the idea itself.  That I had stopped for a while, and then on Tuesday night, started again.

Where this ties in is how I woke up feeling after my last post.  As I laid in bed that night I thought back on my non-interactive episode with the blonde.  And I remembered how truly, though certainly not deeply, upset I'd been when I realized I could have talked to her.  Mind you I become physiologically uncomfortable with the notion of approaching a girl, more so with one I don't know, and even more so in public.  And I'm 75% sure she didn't know Jesus.  And I strongly prefer brunettes.  And yet this very night I lamented that I'd not tried to set up a date with her.

Which reflects the way I woke up the morning after my last post.  Indeed since its been difficult to shake the desire to date.  Someone else.

Somewhere inside I'm vaguely aware of what that should mean.

And I remain unconvinced.

So what brought this all up?  I got to talking to my friend A-Phil tonight, who asked me how things were.  And despite being in fairly high spirits the last few days, and today, I responded with a terribly melancholy discourse.  I feel like I have millions of pounds of needing crushing down on me, with what seems like zero direction from God.  And what I do get, what could be interpreted as from Him, I don't even want, in one case.  And in the other I want it so much that I refuse to believe the collusion of His will and my own.

So here we see my unintentional hypocrisy.  I fully recognize the importance, no, the necessity of complete internal and external submission to God.  Yet refuse to do so.

Perhaps oddest of all is that I don't feel I'm being inconsistent or lying when I say I'm not hearing anything from Him.  I truly feel like I'm not being guided or spoken to, in a time I need it desperately.

Yet I know I can draw near Him.  I know that regardless of whether elements of it were true on Tuesday, I couldn't have imagined speaking this way.

And now that I've written this all I'm not sure how much I mean of any of it.  I'm leery of posting it for fear of people reading it and thinking that I am in this place this makes it look like I am.  Because I'm not.  Am I?

How do I know.  All I know is that I'm going to pray tomorrow.

I need the Lord to show up soon.  I was under the impression that no one died in the last gust of a storm.  If so this is an unimaginably long gust.  If not . . . than what am I waiting for?

Recovery from death

I think that might be a good name for a Christian metal band.  Or some variation thereof.

Alas it coincides with this song I've been kicking around in my head since last night.

"So this is how it how it feels to be alive

This is how it feels to breath

Oh God how could I forget

being raised from death"

Something like that, I haven't put any of it down on paper.

Well . . . I know its not exactly couth, but I have to admit I rather like doing this:

I told you so.

Oh yeah, that feels good.

So what, you may be asking, did I forecast that then did indeed come to pass.  At the end of my last post I said that I could feel the turn around coming.  I said that the next day, this attack would be conquered and I'd be back on track with Big J.  Don't go back and look, just trust me.  Okay, so I stopped short of that, but that's how I felt.  Anyhow.  It happened.

Some time after noon yesterday I finally cracked my prayer journal for the first time, which was earlier than I'd been in there for at least the last two weeks.  And I wrote this:

"Please Lord, don't make me do this without You.  Come back.  Rescue me and lift me up."

Depressing right?  So roundabout 5:30 yesterday it becomes apparent that Nick and Rachel are not going to be able to go to Kairos with me.  And I had a few minutes where I tossed over going.  But really I know how stupid it would be not to go.  I knew how much I needed it.  So I went.

I got there a good while early and took some time to walk around the cafe, my first time there.  Just looking at people, checking the place out.  I took some time to peruse the bookstore as well.  Then I meandered into Wilson Hall and sat in the middle floor section, four rows back from the stage.  And I sat there and waited.  Just, wasting time.  No one really sitting close enough to start a conversation with, and everyone who came in was already engaged.  So I just sat and waited.

When the music started, I stood to worship.  I sang and I focused, but I just felt . . . bound, I wasn't really there, doing what I should have been.  And I never felt a change come.

Before Mike started speaking he took just a few minutes to do some prayer time, getting people ready.  I leaned over and closed my eyes, as I heard him tell us to take whatever we were holding and just give it up to God.  So I did.  As that time finished I raised my head.  I didn't know it yet, but things had changed.

Not 5 minutes into Mike speaking I knew something was different.  Not with Mike, not with the message, not the surrounding.  It was me.  See, I've never stopped taking notes there, every time I've been I've taken notes.  But the last few times, probably since the Revelation series ended, my notes have been . . . sparse.  (Aside: does anyone pick up on the significance of that timing?)  There was a night that I think I wrote down one thing.  Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.  Except I knew I should be getting more.  I knew there was more there to get.  It wasn't that the messages were less meaty, or less aimed right at my heart, it was really like I just wasn't listening, like I wasn't fully engaged.  But last night, I scribbled all over my little card, actually having to double up on the space between the lines just so I could fit it all.  And when I started writing things down, right at the start, that's when I knew.

Mike's message last night was directed towards the guys, about being men.  He started talking about the abolition of man by feminism, religion, public schools, and even public policy.  Then he moved on to an example of a man from the Bible.  Interesting tidbits include the difference between righteousness and "right and wrong".

Then he said something that really got my attention.  See his example man was Joseph.  A pretty good one all things considered.  I mean, this was the guy found righteous enough to serve as the earthly father of God Himself.  Pretty good endorsement.  As a part of Mike's examination of Joseph, he talked about Joseph's dream, and how it kept him from divorcing Mary.  But what he said next, near as I can tell, had no bearing on the rest of the message, but it was essential none the less.

Mike next talked about how easy it must have been at first.  But then, Joseph had to spend nine months watching his young fiancee/wife grow with this baby inside her.  Nine months of hormonal changes.  Nine months of people talking.  And as it came closer, Mary talking of feeling the baby kick and turn.  And all Joseph had to go on during that time was one dream.  Mike described Joseph laying down at night, praying to God for the dream to return or another to reaffirm him, but nothing.  But Mike never made a comment about a point there.  About fortitude in manhood or dedication or anything.  He just let it stand by itself.

And the timing of it . . . certainly strikes me as odd.

And later Mike pointed out how Joseph was found as righteous and then richly blessed and given his mission.  His point was about preparation.  He talked about how Jesus, Moses, and David all spent time alone, in the wilderness, in preparation.  And I think I remember hearing that before.

At then end Mike had all the guys in the place stand and told all the girls to pray for us and for us to pray for the guys around us.  And it was just incredible, to see all these guys being touched by God.  To see men crying and to know there are good women out there and to see them love their men and pray over them and pray over other guys they didn't know at all.

As if there were any doubts about how surely the spirit of the Lord was in that place, when the worship team came back out, things exploded.  You could feel the energy and the love in both directions in that place.  And I worshiped like crazy.  One of those times when everything  disappears and its just you standing there before Him on the throne, singing to Him.  But when you open your eyes, you see all these people, hands raised, hearts wide open.  All of them praising.  And there's blessings in the private and in the corporate and you wonder if anyone in that place is managing to escape the spirit of the Lord.  And I hadn't felt that in so long.

And it kept up.  On the way home I destroyed myself screaming along to Underoath.  And I can't tell you how long its been since I've screamed along to my music, or to stuff I've written.

What I can say is . . . all these absences, all this death, has all been going on for approximately the same amount of time.

Fast forward through late night Wii after Kairos and meeting some new people, through today, with its mess of familial tension.  To CAKE.  Subject:  relationships.  Specifically the passage was Genesis 2:18, where God decides to make a "helper" for Adam.  The rest of the night was talking about relationships and lots of caveats there of, but a lot of it just washed over my brain.  For two reasons.  One is that Mike went over parts of Genesis 2 last night, not all, but some of the same ones that were used tonight.  And two:

The Hebrew for "helper" in 18 is EZAR, a word more accurately translated as "lifegiver" or "one who actively intervenes on behalf of".  Every other use of this word in the OT is God saving someone.

And the only other person I've ever talked about that idea with is Heather.  I'd just finished Wild at Heart at Lake Champion and Heather was a fan of Captivated and we discussed that word and concept in a few letters.

I only believe in coincidences to a certain extent.  And yes all these things seem to have rather interesting time, with little additions like seeing the name Sennacherib appear at near random in the Tom Clancy book I'm rereading, or parking behind a car with Kansas plates when John, Jeremy, Clay, and I went down to watch "Moon" tonight.  Yet I don't think I'm sold yet.

I've admitted something to myself sometime during the last two days.  Really last night at Kairos, sometime during the prayer time, and tonight when Jenn was talking about marks of a healthy relationship.

I love Heather.

And I don't mean that in the mourning way of "oh I'm still so broken hearted and I can't let go."  I'm not distraught and broken hearted.  Its just . . . I think of her in my head the same way I did when we were together.  I keep thinking of all these great memories and all her fantastic qualities.  Its just like . . . it feels just like love.  That feeling that those of you who are there know.  And there's just no other way to describe it.

And I hope it goes away.

Tonight after I got home I was thinking/praying some and I was realizing how much things have kind of stacked up in regards to this question of whether I gave up or was called on.  And honestly decided that all this probably means I should still be fighting for her and could still be meant for her.  But I didn't really care.  I'm not planning on doing anything about it, at least not at present.  If its true, there's a level at which I really don't care.  But also, I'm not sold yet.  I realized that I'm okay with screwing up in one direction.  I'm not okay with needing to move on and still chasing after/waiting for her.  But I am okay with being called to keep her on my heart/pursue her, and not doing so.  Waiting until God gets angry and gives me something bigger I can't ignore.  I'm okay with that, and I told Him as much.

And that's really my plan.  I have a good feeling about it.

Alas, it means that even that really attractive blonde eyeing me so intently from the next restaurant over that Jeremy noticed can't garner my attention.  Let's say I was the kind of guy to approach girls.  Let's say she was receptive.  And by those axioms there was then some possibility of establishing a date.  Too bad.  I'm in love with someone.  I'm in love with someone I haven't spoken to in months.  And that's all that means to me right now.  The close down of dead end opportunities I wouldn't take anyways.  Let's face it, if I was the kind of guy to go up and hit on random girls, I probably would have done so anyways.

I get the feeling I don't like this feelings.

So there it is.  I'm 70% sure that I told God to bring it on.

Things didn't used to be like this.  I used to be so much better at hearing His will, at sticking to it once I had it.  And I haven't lost everything.  I still don't care about consequences in regards to following Him.  I'll do anything He tells me.  Recklessly.  I just need to hear.  And I just wish that was easier.

I leave you with this:

Oh you nations,

lift your hands, lift up your voices

Praise the Lord.

He is worthy.

He is mighty.

The Lord is salvation.