Going "Unplugged"

By the time you read this, I'll have gone "unplugged".

Last night at Salt, I was convicted by the "broken cistern" test. (I can't be happy without ) There were so many things I could put in the blank. So, I'm going to spend the next week without them. Here's my half-thought-out plan:

No TV, no music (except the few minutes as my alarm goes off in the morning, waiting for the news, weather and sports), no movies, no internet--except for a few minutes Sunday so I can pay my rent--and no video games. Consequently, most of the time I spend with friends ends up doing one of these things, so I'm also going to withdraw from my friends. I also won't be making phone calls or initiating text conversations (unless I need a ride to Salt or church--I'm not walking all that way). I will receive them, however, so if you want to find me, that will be the only way--unless you manage to physically find me, I'll be spending a lot of time near the lake, on central campus, or in parks. I might end up reading through half the Bible, but that isn't a bad thing.

If I have any really strange thoughts, I'll try to record them on paper, so I can post them here next Friday, but I make no promises.

In a somewhat unrelated move, I'm going to try to trace my train of thought from this morning. I was thinking about how to word this post (I usually "write" the posts in my head before I ever get to a computer) and I thought about being near the lake. It's quite tranquil--until the geese try to hang out on the lake. Then the swans get angry. They chase the geese until the geese get out of the water. Somehow, this led to thinking about pillow fights, including Demetri Martin's pillow fight analysis: man vs. woman, fun; man vs. man, gay; woman vs. woman, awesome; man vs. pillow, crazy; pillow vs. pillow, crazy awesome.

I moved on to getting socks so I could leave my apartment, and started chanting the word "socks" to the tune of "Charge!" and began to wonder how many times I had been dropped on my head as a child (I know of once). Then I thought that near-drownings and other near-asphyxiations might have contributed, and I remembered that I once nearly choked to death on a LifeSaver. The irony was not lost on me.

Shortly after, I remembered that I once slammed my head in a car door. To this day, I still don't know how I pulled that off, or how I managed to then walk a straight line past the vice principal and into middle school like nothing had happened.

Hopefully that was enough crazy to get you through a week without posting. I'll be back Friday morning, probably with a lot to say. This should be an interesting week.

In awe

Yesterday, I was walking down Lincoln Way, talking to myself--this is a very common occurrence, talking to myself--about why there's a downfall in viewership of hockey--I did have a conversation with others about the same topic just before this, so it's not completely random. I figure it's a number of factors: the lockout in 2004-05, lack of TV coverage, and most importantly, the great evil the NHL has made out of fights--let's face it, some people watch hockey just for the fights, just like some people watch NASCAR just for the crashes (and I can see no other reason to watch NASCAR, but crashes aren't enough for me to watch it). Besides, if we're worried about the "role-model" value, why isn't there a moratorium on boxing, MMA, professional "wrestling", etc?

I could go on like this for ages, but that's not what this post is about. As I was walking, someone felt the need to lean out of the car he was riding in and yell "fag" at me. My first reaction was to judge him an idiot--why else would he randomly shout that at people walking outside? I don't know how our Lord could handle being persecuted.

Shortly after that, feelings of paranoia swept in. Had this guy read this post? Had someone else told him, or was this just a cruel person, yelling insults at random people he happened to come across? I veered into a mild depression for a few minutes--all because of one person yelling one word. I don't know how Christ put up with all the hatred that raged around him.

Tonight, Unite!

I know, I've gone almost a week without posting. It's okay, I am still alive. It's just been a little hard getting back to my normal craziness after my last post. For those that haven't been reading the comments on that one, you should.

Anyway, over the weekend, I got an email from Target--I didn't get the job. Naturally, I was feeling down and alone. Taking some advice from the Salt retreat (learn to pray for real, not just flowery praise all the time) I accused God of not caring. Just getting that off my chest made me feel better, and within 5 minutes, my phone rang. It was my dad, wondering how I was doing. After we hung up, I broke down in tears. Sometimes that kind of prayer works--maybe a little too well.

And today, I got a letter in the mail from the company that I rent from. Immediately, I thought it was about the utilities, so I started forming my arguments that I shouldn't have to pay the $25 fee while I was still in the elevator. When I opened it, it was just the last bill they would send me for utilities--for the usage I had just before getting it switched to my name. So my blood pressure returned back to normal pretty quickly.

But hey, later today is Unite Iowa! I'm wondering how they're going to fit all those people into a middle school, but I'm told they have a large auditorium. We'll see.... It starts at 8, but I'm going to get there around 4. It's so great, I just have to make sure there's enough room. Not really, though. Salt's doing sound, and I signed up to be an apprentice sound guy, so I'm helping them set up. I kinda wish I had a lunch box, so I wouldn't have to eat so early. Oh, well. I'm not going to buy one now that I'm in college--unless it's a really cool one.

Prayer Request

Okay, today I'm going to do something on this blog that I don't like to do. I'm going to mention somebody by name. I think I've only done it in one post before this, so it's kind of a big deal. Anyway, on with the post.

Last night at Salt, a friend of mine--who happens to be a CA and the tall member of a local duo--brought a girl from his floor. I met her back when they were filming their entry for the Den Makeover. Her name is Emily, and she isn't a believer. I was excited that she actually came, after some of the comments she made about Salt when I first met her--I won't go into those here.

During one of the "prayer breaks" during worship, I threw up a quick "God, reach her." prayer. Occasionally during the message, I glanced over, worried that I might see her checking the time. If she was, I didn't see it. When the message ended and the final worship began, she was just sitting down, looking straight ahead. My first thought was "Missed."

After the worship, I went and had this conversation with her. "What'd you think?" "I'm not sure, I'm still processing." I still don't know how I concealed that in my head, the Hallelujah chorus was playing, but I somehow managed to. "Well, I understand..." "Yeah, it's my first time here." "Yeah. My first time, it took 10 days to process, so I know what you're saying." We talked for a little longer, and went our separate ways.

The prayer request is this: Pray for Emily. Pray that God softens her heart. I know most of the people reading this were praying the same thing for me about a year ago.

Interview

Like I said in the last post, I had a job interview yesterday. I showed up my normal 10 minutes early, and they directed me to the application kiosks to answer a round of questions before people would actually talk to me.

I sat down, moved through the pages for about a minute, when the system would go no further. I picked up the red "help phone" at the desk, and they sent someone over to check. They couldn't figure it out, so they told me to just use the other kiosk. The keyboard on that one wouldn't work. So they called over a second person, and I'm sitting there trying to be nonchalant and somehow succeeding. I made the comment, "I always knew computers hated me, but..." and the guy just laughed and agreed. The second guy couldn't figure out what was wrong, so they just skipped that part and took me into a back room.

Over the next half-hour or so, two guys came in, asking me strange and confusing questions. I think they were trying to melt my brain or something. After the questions, they thanked me for my time, and I did likewise, and said they'd call in 7-10 days. I think I did well, but we'll see.

While I was in Target, I figured I'd get a couple things--a vacuum and a copy of Slumdog Millionaire. I ended up getting Apollo 13 as well. And on the way, I ran into the guy who is sometimes jokingly called "High King Peter", who happened to be there to do some grocery shopping.

Today could be the day

Yesterday, I decided to give in and buy new shoes (the old pair had ceased to be good at even hiding views of my socks) but first I had to go to the bank to transfer some money from savings to checking. I had also decided to buy a pair of dress shoes, because I haven't had a pair for a long time, and I thought it would be good to have some.

When I got to my bank, there was a sign saying that that particular branch was closing, and I'd have to use the one south of Hickory Park after the 30th. "Oh, great. Today's not going well." I thought to myself.

While filling out the little forms to move the money around, my phone rang. It was the "I don't know this number" ring, so I answered immediately. It was a person from Target, wondering if I was still interested in the job as Cart Attendant. I said I was, and we set up an interview for today at 3:30. Good thing I was going out to get some dress shoes. That seems way too coincidental for man to have put it together.

On a completely unrelated note, I started getting a slightly strange idea this morning, possibly because I read "The Prodigal God" by Timothy Keller yesterday. I kinda want to take the basic feeling of "Homeward Bound" by Simon & Garfunkel and turn it into a worship song. If only I had any musical talent.

Tonight I'll sing my songs again,
I'll play the game, and pretend.
Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm.
But all my words come back to me,
In shades of mediocrity,
Like emptiness and harmony,
I need someone to comfort me.

Homeward Bound.
I wish I was
Homeward Bound.
Home, where my thought's escaping.
Home, where my music's playing.
Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me.
Silently for me.

That's the third verse and the chorus. It's almost a worship song as it is.

A great conundrum

I have stumbled upon an enigma that has been plaguing all mankind since the dawn of time--okay, maybe just me, not all mankind....and maybe just since yesterday, not the dawn of time. Why is it, in the VeggieTales fruit snacks, the ones shaped like Madame Blueberry taste like blue raspberry instead of blueberry? The Pa Grape ones taste like grape--that makes sense. It also makes sense that Bob the Tomato, Larry the Cucumber, Laura Carrot, and Junior Asparagus don't taste like their namesakes. Who wants asparagus in their fruit snacks? No one. But Madame Blueberry not tasting like blueberry? Total insanity. I know, I'm a 23-year-old, 250-pound man complaining about the VeggieTales fruit snacks, but that's beside the point--which is still valid. How can I ever feed these to my future kids if I can't answer this question in a way that makes sense to me? They'll be asking the same thing.

So internet public, for the sake of my future kids, please help me solve this riddle. Then maybe I can sleep at night. And don't tell me it's because blue raspberry tastes better than blueberry. That's a lie. Blue raspberry is nasty. Blueberries are amazing. See this post if you don't believe me about blueberries--last paragraph.

Salt Retreat Factoids

Here are some little factoids that I picked up this weekend at the Salt Retreat:

1. Some of the people in Salt are getting a little old, so if you don't remind them that they offered to give you a ride, they might forget you--my ride was already out of town when I texted with "Where are you? You're late."


2. The fun of tackle football is greatly reduced when someone gets kicked in the face. (She's okay, don't worry)


3. God is awesome.


4. Before Elijah was THE MAN, he was just a man. Or as Ed Noble put it, "dude became DUDE".


5. Eating a heaping plate of bacon will ruin your diet--and make you feel sick.


6. God is AWESOME!


7. If you get six guys in one vehicle on the way back from a Christian retreat, the conversation can easily turn to poop stories. (By the way, some of these were epic)


8. If you put 10 guys in one cabin to sleep, conversations can quickly turn into calling each other women. (Sorry, ladies)


9. GOD IS AWESOME!


10. Ed Noble is definitely a surfer. Only surfers can use the word "dude" every 5 seconds while talking about Elijah. (See #4 for an example)


11. If someone near you starts snoring during a service, it is your duty to poke them until they wake. (possibly not true, but it feels right to me)


12. GOD...IS...AWESOME!!!

There's probably more, but I can't remember them right now.

Salt Company Retreat

DISCLAIMER: This post is going to be very real. It is going to be serious, and it may shock you. If you are looking for my usual humor, skip to the next post. If you want to glimpse a little further into me than I generally feel comfortable letting people see, keep reading.

This past weekend was the Salt Company Fall Retreat, and a lot of things happened, but I'm going to focus on one small (in the length of time, not importance) set of events.

It all happened after Ed Noble finished his third (and final, if you don't count the Q & A) message of the weekend, which was about letting God into your "dark places". During the worship I felt like I was being pushed toward kneeling right where I was. I knelt down, and just felt one of the "dark places" open up. I had kept it shut, fearing that my friends would be weird around me for a while if I told. --THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SKIP TO THE NEXT POST AND AVOID READING WHAT I'M ABOUT TO REVEAL--


In my pre-Christian life, I was so deep in lust that I even fantasized about other men. These thoughts still surface from time to time, so they're not gone, I won't lie and say they are, but I try to push them away now. They started sometime in high school, I'm not sure exactly when. This is partially why I was so upset when Fred Phelps came to my high school graduation to protest because our class president was gay--I identified easily with the class president, even though I had never met him.

I began to feel that God wouldn't let me simply bury it again, and I needed to tell. The tears began to flow down my face from fear more than anything else. After a little while, Ed invited anyone that felt they needed to be prayed for to come down by the stage, and I picked out a nice little spot right in the center. Various Salt leaders came down and prayed over the people on their knees by the stage, and I felt a little more sure that I could reveal that secret--I opened up and shared it in my small group afterward, and of course now it's right here for all to read.

Then Ed started to talk about specific prayers for people to pray with him. The third one hit me hard. He said he felt that there were some of us in the crowd who were being called to do something but it seems too scary--see this post and this post if you don't know what hit me about that. Next he mentioned that we all knew someone--or multiple someones--that needed to know Christ. Thoughts of my parents hit me hard right there.

I cried through most of that worship, and was the last of the people up front to actually stand. Even without my glasses--if you ever see me remove my glasses during worship or a sermon, it's because I'm crying and I don't like to get tears on them--I could see the concern on some of the faces of the Anthem band when they saw me still on the floor, weeping. After a while of sitting on the floor, weeping, singing, and praying to God all at once--actually somewhat easy to do for me, since the songs were right in line with what I needed to pray--I put on my glasses and shifted position so I was holding my knees in an upright, semi-fetal position. Anyone that saw that and was worried for me then, I was okay at that point, and ready to stand up, with just one problem--both of my legs were asleep, so I had to wait them out. When I stood, I saw a smile cross the face of one of Anthem's singers--don't know her name, sorry--and smiled myself before throwing myself headlong--figuratively--into worship.

After worship came small group session, and there was a barn dance going on after that, but I was so exhausted after what felt like being hit by a freight train that I just skipped the dance and went back to my bunk to crash. I was so out of it, I didn't even wake up when the guys that went came back in to the cabin--for those that were in the Treetoppers, you know how hard that is, there's the blast of cold air as the door opens and lets what little heat is in the cabin out, then the creaking as people climb to the top bunks. I was even on a bottom bunk, right below someone that went to the dance--the bottom bunk shakes badly when the person on the top moves even slightly--and I still slept straight through.