| Personality Inventory | ||
| Emotional (56%) | [.........|..........] | Logical (44%) |
| Concerned about self (45%) | [..........|.........] | Concerned about others (55%) |
| Atheist (27%) | [..........|||||.....] | Religious (73%) |
| Loner (50%) | [....................] | Dependent (50%) |
| Laid-back (52%) | [....................] | Driven (48%) |
| Traditional (63%) | [.......|||..........] | Rebel (37%) |
| Impetuous (100%) | [||||||||||..........] | Organized (0%) |
| Engineering mind (51%) | [....................] | Artistic mind (49%) |
| Cynical (56%) | [.........|..........] | Idealist (44%) |
| Follower (46%) | [..........|.........] | Leader (54%) |
| Introverted (43%) | [..........|.........] | Extroverted (57%) |
| Conservative (69%) | [......||||..........] | Liberal (31%) |
| Logical (53%) | [.........|..........] | Romantic (47%) |
| Uninterested (56%) | [.........|..........] | Sexual (44%) |
| Insecure (42%) | [..........||........] | Confident (58%) |
| Take the test! brought to you by thatsurveysite | ||
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Survey says...
One thing they didn't cover in this survey is whether or not I'm narcissistic.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
New Brew; Spam and Stats
I posted part 2 of Jamie's Good, Bad and Ugly of The Emergents article on The Brew. Check it out.
--------------
Good news. I've had to block three spam comment posts on The Brew, which means that the magazine is generating enough traffic for advertisers to want to spam us. For once, spam means something good.
Here's Feb.'s stats:
2,168 Unique Visitors
13,000 Page Views
--------------
Good news. I've had to block three spam comment posts on The Brew, which means that the magazine is generating enough traffic for advertisers to want to spam us. For once, spam means something good.
Here's Feb.'s stats:
2,168 Unique Visitors
13,000 Page Views
New Brew link; Depression Series # 5: The Most Depressing CD You'll Ever Hear
A friend (Mabul) gave me this revealing article from Salon.com on Mark Driscoll, one of the leaders of the Emerging Church. Check it out on The Brew's Culture Tab.
--------------------------
Here's a more musical side of my Depression Series; an article about a depressing mix CD that I made for myself.
Depression Series # 5: The Most Depressing CD You'll Ever Hear (2004)
As the compact disc ceases spinning in my second-hand stereo, the fog that seemed to have settled over my brain has somehow lifted. The depression that plagued me as that hour-long CD began has dissipated after listening to this sanctifying music. Something in that music escorted me out of the maze of self-centered thoughts and enabled me to see that there is an entire world outside of my own small experience that I was created to participate in.
The self-created compilation CD is a grouping of some of the most depressing music I have ever heard. And I thank God for it. Somehow, by creating a playlist of downer-type music, I was able to give a form to my depression and express what I could not quite put into words.
Aimee Mann begins the mix with three tracks of her breathy and weary voice from the "Magnolia" soundtrack. "One," "Save Me," and "Wise Up" speak from the other side of some wrenching emotional turmoil with pessimism and honesty that shines a light on whatever sorrows that may exist in my own life. By being able to step back and see hurt, angst and a reason for both, I can start to understand the darker feelings that lurk underneath my radar; the feelings that I might try to hide or ignore.
More songs on the CD are merely for atmosphere and tone, but encourage the mellow state of mind needed to identify issues I may be having. Gary Jules' remake of "Mad, Mad World," Jeff Buckley's "Halleluiah," and a healthy dose of Radiohead each help me to cry out that something is wrong and then take steps to do something about it. And just in case I'm in the mood, U2's "Numb" reassures me that other people know what it's like to feel a certain way.
Yet, the point of the CD is not to make you so depressed you become paralyzed with self-absorbed thoughts. I listen to such a compilation to express what's wrong and then do something about it. That's why interspersed in the mix are songs to help turn my thoughts back to the world outside my own private prison. This world is where Christ's supernatural power can reach into my natural world and fix the self-destructive thoughts.
A large portion of these songs come from Waterdeep's "Everyone's Beautiful" album, a rare find in the mostly superficial world of contemporary Christian music. This rarely-heard band honestly addresses sin, doubt and anger in "Confessions of a Broken Down Man" and the title track from the CD. "He Will Come," which follows the other two songs, serves as a reminder of what I can look forward to in the midst of the daily battle against the small frustrations or unrealistic expectations that could drag a person down.
Also on the CD are more expressions of pain but in the context of crying out to God and asking for help. Tracks such as the driving, industrial "Chronic" by Sarah Jahn and the raw, lamenting "One Lonely Visitor" by Chevelle help with the complexities of sorting through emotions and what we think we know about God. And an obvious but much needed "Grace" by the now defunct Normals reminds me of the one supernatural gift that can trump any chemical imbalance I might have in my head.
To finish off the disc is a suite of songs from Sarah Groves' "All Right Here" album that specifically speaks about depression and God having a reason for letting some people suffer with this ailment. The last song of my compilation, being what will stay in your brain the longest after the music stops, is "You Cannot Loose My Love;" a song that admits to loosing everything from innocence to direction but never God's love.
This combination of music is what has helped so many times to express the unknown hurt that lingers some days. It is an hour-long therapy session that lets me travel into the darker regions of my psyche without getting lost. By making this CD, I could let the hurt be expressed by expert singer/songwriters and then end the compilation with a reminder of why I have so great a salvation: to let my thoughts be transformed by Christ's amazing Spirit. And whether or not I am cured of depression or end up living the rest of my life with it, this CD is a reminder that I will be a shinning example of how Christ's power is made perfect in mental weakness.
--------------------------
Here's a more musical side of my Depression Series; an article about a depressing mix CD that I made for myself.
Depression Series # 5: The Most Depressing CD You'll Ever Hear (2004)
As the compact disc ceases spinning in my second-hand stereo, the fog that seemed to have settled over my brain has somehow lifted. The depression that plagued me as that hour-long CD began has dissipated after listening to this sanctifying music. Something in that music escorted me out of the maze of self-centered thoughts and enabled me to see that there is an entire world outside of my own small experience that I was created to participate in.
The self-created compilation CD is a grouping of some of the most depressing music I have ever heard. And I thank God for it. Somehow, by creating a playlist of downer-type music, I was able to give a form to my depression and express what I could not quite put into words.
Aimee Mann begins the mix with three tracks of her breathy and weary voice from the "Magnolia" soundtrack. "One," "Save Me," and "Wise Up" speak from the other side of some wrenching emotional turmoil with pessimism and honesty that shines a light on whatever sorrows that may exist in my own life. By being able to step back and see hurt, angst and a reason for both, I can start to understand the darker feelings that lurk underneath my radar; the feelings that I might try to hide or ignore.
More songs on the CD are merely for atmosphere and tone, but encourage the mellow state of mind needed to identify issues I may be having. Gary Jules' remake of "Mad, Mad World," Jeff Buckley's "Halleluiah," and a healthy dose of Radiohead each help me to cry out that something is wrong and then take steps to do something about it. And just in case I'm in the mood, U2's "Numb" reassures me that other people know what it's like to feel a certain way.
Yet, the point of the CD is not to make you so depressed you become paralyzed with self-absorbed thoughts. I listen to such a compilation to express what's wrong and then do something about it. That's why interspersed in the mix are songs to help turn my thoughts back to the world outside my own private prison. This world is where Christ's supernatural power can reach into my natural world and fix the self-destructive thoughts.
A large portion of these songs come from Waterdeep's "Everyone's Beautiful" album, a rare find in the mostly superficial world of contemporary Christian music. This rarely-heard band honestly addresses sin, doubt and anger in "Confessions of a Broken Down Man" and the title track from the CD. "He Will Come," which follows the other two songs, serves as a reminder of what I can look forward to in the midst of the daily battle against the small frustrations or unrealistic expectations that could drag a person down.
Also on the CD are more expressions of pain but in the context of crying out to God and asking for help. Tracks such as the driving, industrial "Chronic" by Sarah Jahn and the raw, lamenting "One Lonely Visitor" by Chevelle help with the complexities of sorting through emotions and what we think we know about God. And an obvious but much needed "Grace" by the now defunct Normals reminds me of the one supernatural gift that can trump any chemical imbalance I might have in my head.
To finish off the disc is a suite of songs from Sarah Groves' "All Right Here" album that specifically speaks about depression and God having a reason for letting some people suffer with this ailment. The last song of my compilation, being what will stay in your brain the longest after the music stops, is "You Cannot Loose My Love;" a song that admits to loosing everything from innocence to direction but never God's love.
This combination of music is what has helped so many times to express the unknown hurt that lingers some days. It is an hour-long therapy session that lets me travel into the darker regions of my psyche without getting lost. By making this CD, I could let the hurt be expressed by expert singer/songwriters and then end the compilation with a reminder of why I have so great a salvation: to let my thoughts be transformed by Christ's amazing Spirit. And whether or not I am cured of depression or end up living the rest of my life with it, this CD is a reminder that I will be a shinning example of how Christ's power is made perfect in mental weakness.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Borat; Depression Series # 4
Had a great night with a friend from Chicago who's now in Dallas. Had a six-course meal (all homemade except for some sushi); some double chocolate stout and big 'ole bottle of tasty cheap wine. This made watching Borat after dinner all the funnier.
Can't believe some people fell for Cohen's shtick, especially a local news station. I couldn't stop laughing while Cohen interrupted a local news weather segment. Genius.
---------------------------
Depression Series # 4 (Contains violent content)
This is an essay I didn't do anything with, and you can probably figure out why. It started with a good idea but then turned into something else and got a little violent by the end. Not sure what kind of mood I was in at the time, but I'm sure I must have just watched Fight Club or something like that before writing this.
Fighting Against Fundamentalism (2004)
I didn't realize I was one until met people who weren't and people who were worse off than me. And as much as I try to fight it, somewhere in the tissues of my brain lurks the evil, growth-stunting, self-exalting, self-isolating principles of fundamentalism.
I grew up with it like an extra head sitting on my shoulders. As I grew, matured and began to shave, so it began to get acne and feel akward. My brain and it's brain began to think similarly as we grew up. "I don't smoke, drink or chew or go with girls who do." That was actually a line from my parent's version of fundamentalism but it echoes so closely what my own thought.
"I don't watch R-rated movies, break the rules or question what I'm told or hang out with anyone so bold."
This is what my second brain would transmit from it's slightly off-center spot on my shoulders to my real brain which was in the center of my body and being. So many other transmissions were relayed to my true head through the church I went to, how my parents saw the world and how I confused spirituality with a tortuous sort of self-discipline. They were all that made it into my moldable brain during the adolescent years.
My second head would always tell me of how everything was spiritual and that there was always s spiritual reason for something happening. I could do well at baseball, then there must be someone that I hadn't reconciled myself with. Other completely unrelated disappointments or failures would be instantly diagnosed as blinking billboard that said, "Something is really wrong. Pray now so God can show you what you've done wrong."
I'd soon begin to misdiagnose everything that hurt or confused me. If people said something that hinted of a truer understanding of God's grace, of the complexity of being human or of Scripture and theology, I would think, "You're almost right but not quite." They weren't as spiritual as I was and if they were, then they wouldn't say or do those kinds of things. They should be so much more discipline and do what I do or else they'll run into a lot of problems.
My two heads soon became one as the off-center brain latched onto my own and began to meld with the beautiful gray matter that God had given me. I now saw through it's eyes instead of my own and thought it's thoughts. I couldn't believe how many other people had it all wrong. No wonder everyone else in the world was having problems with life. They weren't doing what I was doing. If they could only do their daily devotions ( merely an exercise in writing down meaningless phrases that would never impact my life) and see how bad those movies were (when if fact they were the most accurate depiction of humanity, grace and redemption.
All of my life was easy to explain and understand and the rest of the world was too, if you only thought like me. Complexity and confusion were suppressed and not dealt with because it didn't fit with my own paradigm of how God worked. The Bible was the Bible and there was no question about how life was. If something was wrong in your life, there had to be some spiritual roots.
But thank God for depression and the results. A small, dull pain began as an ax was pushed into my bloated and confused head. An inch at a time, the ax began to cut through the skin, muscle and bone until it found the carnivorous fundamentalist head that attached onto my own. A little dramatic? Yeah, but everything was when you had a fundamentalist mindset.
When the depression ax had succeeded in splitting my head open, my judgmental eyes were plucked out. My sight was gone. I didn't know how to look at the world anymore.
With a gaping gash in my head and two bloody sockets, I realized that something was wrong. Maybe I was wrong. I started to see that there was this other way of thinking. Some better way of looking at others, at my faith, and at how God saw me.
The one thing my fundamentalist mindset was right about was that there was something wrong with me. I had deeper problems.
Can't believe some people fell for Cohen's shtick, especially a local news station. I couldn't stop laughing while Cohen interrupted a local news weather segment. Genius.
---------------------------
Depression Series # 4 (Contains violent content)
This is an essay I didn't do anything with, and you can probably figure out why. It started with a good idea but then turned into something else and got a little violent by the end. Not sure what kind of mood I was in at the time, but I'm sure I must have just watched Fight Club or something like that before writing this.
Fighting Against Fundamentalism (2004)
I didn't realize I was one until met people who weren't and people who were worse off than me. And as much as I try to fight it, somewhere in the tissues of my brain lurks the evil, growth-stunting, self-exalting, self-isolating principles of fundamentalism.
I grew up with it like an extra head sitting on my shoulders. As I grew, matured and began to shave, so it began to get acne and feel akward. My brain and it's brain began to think similarly as we grew up. "I don't smoke, drink or chew or go with girls who do." That was actually a line from my parent's version of fundamentalism but it echoes so closely what my own thought.
"I don't watch R-rated movies, break the rules or question what I'm told or hang out with anyone so bold."
This is what my second brain would transmit from it's slightly off-center spot on my shoulders to my real brain which was in the center of my body and being. So many other transmissions were relayed to my true head through the church I went to, how my parents saw the world and how I confused spirituality with a tortuous sort of self-discipline. They were all that made it into my moldable brain during the adolescent years.
My second head would always tell me of how everything was spiritual and that there was always s spiritual reason for something happening. I could do well at baseball, then there must be someone that I hadn't reconciled myself with. Other completely unrelated disappointments or failures would be instantly diagnosed as blinking billboard that said, "Something is really wrong. Pray now so God can show you what you've done wrong."
I'd soon begin to misdiagnose everything that hurt or confused me. If people said something that hinted of a truer understanding of God's grace, of the complexity of being human or of Scripture and theology, I would think, "You're almost right but not quite." They weren't as spiritual as I was and if they were, then they wouldn't say or do those kinds of things. They should be so much more discipline and do what I do or else they'll run into a lot of problems.
My two heads soon became one as the off-center brain latched onto my own and began to meld with the beautiful gray matter that God had given me. I now saw through it's eyes instead of my own and thought it's thoughts. I couldn't believe how many other people had it all wrong. No wonder everyone else in the world was having problems with life. They weren't doing what I was doing. If they could only do their daily devotions ( merely an exercise in writing down meaningless phrases that would never impact my life) and see how bad those movies were (when if fact they were the most accurate depiction of humanity, grace and redemption.
All of my life was easy to explain and understand and the rest of the world was too, if you only thought like me. Complexity and confusion were suppressed and not dealt with because it didn't fit with my own paradigm of how God worked. The Bible was the Bible and there was no question about how life was. If something was wrong in your life, there had to be some spiritual roots.
But thank God for depression and the results. A small, dull pain began as an ax was pushed into my bloated and confused head. An inch at a time, the ax began to cut through the skin, muscle and bone until it found the carnivorous fundamentalist head that attached onto my own. A little dramatic? Yeah, but everything was when you had a fundamentalist mindset.
When the depression ax had succeeded in splitting my head open, my judgmental eyes were plucked out. My sight was gone. I didn't know how to look at the world anymore.
With a gaping gash in my head and two bloody sockets, I realized that something was wrong. Maybe I was wrong. I started to see that there was this other way of thinking. Some better way of looking at others, at my faith, and at how God saw me.
The one thing my fundamentalist mindset was right about was that there was something wrong with me. I had deeper problems.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Guac-queso; New Brew; Chicago v. Dallas
Went to a tex-mex restaurant and had some queso made with quacamole. Holy mole! I can't believe I've never thought of doing this.
----------
I posted another new author on The Brew. Kennedy Lewis writes with some bite on Truth and Emergents.
---------------
So I started comparing the churches I went to in Chicago and Dallas the other day.
Chicago: Holy Trinity Church(HTC). Dallas: Trinity Fellowship Church(TFC).
HTC: Weekly Texas Hold 'Em nights beginning at 10 p.m. with monthly take-all tournaments (and 10% of the winnings were given to HTC). I'm still in the hole for $5 there.
TFC: Bi-weekly Texas Hold 'Em nights beginning at 8 p.m. (has a more 'mature' crowd). When a pastor attends, no one worries about having to tithe if the pastor wins anything.
HTC: A reformed congregation began this church as a plant. Pastors are known for writing children's books, helping with the translation of the ESV, running the Chicago Marathon every year, carrying around a large cigars in their mouths in the church office (but not smoking them).
TFC: Sprang from a Brethren church but has a more evangelical bent. Pastor (the one I've gotten to know) known for brewing meade and other ales at home, taking many others to eat Ethiopian food and getting a celebratory allowance clause added to Dallas Theological Seminary's policy on drinking while on DTS's student council.
It's a pure coincidence that both celebrate the Trinity in their names. I don't always base my church decisions on their ranking of the Trinity, but hey, why knock a good thing?
----------
I posted another new author on The Brew. Kennedy Lewis writes with some bite on Truth and Emergents.
---------------
So I started comparing the churches I went to in Chicago and Dallas the other day.
Chicago: Holy Trinity Church(HTC). Dallas: Trinity Fellowship Church(TFC).
HTC: Weekly Texas Hold 'Em nights beginning at 10 p.m. with monthly take-all tournaments (and 10% of the winnings were given to HTC). I'm still in the hole for $5 there.
TFC: Bi-weekly Texas Hold 'Em nights beginning at 8 p.m. (has a more 'mature' crowd). When a pastor attends, no one worries about having to tithe if the pastor wins anything.
HTC: A reformed congregation began this church as a plant. Pastors are known for writing children's books, helping with the translation of the ESV, running the Chicago Marathon every year, carrying around a large cigars in their mouths in the church office (but not smoking them).
TFC: Sprang from a Brethren church but has a more evangelical bent. Pastor (the one I've gotten to know) known for brewing meade and other ales at home, taking many others to eat Ethiopian food and getting a celebratory allowance clause added to Dallas Theological Seminary's policy on drinking while on DTS's student council.
It's a pure coincidence that both celebrate the Trinity in their names. I don't always base my church decisions on their ranking of the Trinity, but hey, why knock a good thing?
Friday, March 09, 2007
Depression Series # 3
So this next essay was one that I got published on Relevant Magazine's website (which isn't really that hard to do). I think by this time, I'd gotten used to being depressed and was semi-acceptant of it all. This one is a little lighter ( which is good, because it helps balance out the darker, more violent essay which I'll post next week).
1/24/2004
www.relevantmag.com
'Familiar With Depression'
The idea of a depressed Christian used to seem like an oxymoron to me. Why would anyone who is a Christian be sad? I wondered. If a person really were a Christian, they should be able to remember all Christ had done for them, I figured. We really have no reason to be sad, let alone wallow in depression or sink into some lethargic sadness. People like that just need a better relationship with God, I thought. They probably didn’t pray the right way or didn’t even try to get anything out of their Bibles.
There just was no reason to be depressed—Christ has all the hope, joy and peace any person could ever need. It was such a foreign concept for me to understand; yet little did I know, this very problem was fermenting in my own head.
I always heard stories of believers who were depressed. I didn’t understand them or know how to start talking to them. I got some coffee one night with a friend from Germany and learned he wasn’t going to finish his semester at college. His grades were terrible, and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t fix them, so he was going to leave. Then he told me he was seeing a counselor for depression.
I was stumped. I told him I’d pray for him because I didn’t know what else to do.
Then there was another guy I knew on my floor at school who was in a similar situation. He hadn’t been doing well and was on academic probation. He told me he got behind because of depression.
Over my years at college, I would come to know many more people who dealt with depression. A statistic began to form as people left every semester either because depression killed their grades or they couldn’t recuperate from this disease while at school. The foreign concept didn’t seem so far away because people I knew and was friends with were suffering and introducing me to what depression really was.
As I became more familiar with depression, I saw how much it affects people and how much it can destroy a life. I saw how people lose all motivation for accomplishing anything or for trying to fix anything. I took notice of their outward symptoms, but was still clueless as to what the inner causes were. But I would soon know these inner causes, because they were slowly coming to a boil inside me.
I began feeling numb to more aspects of life. Small disappointments and unmet standards of spirituality started to accumulate in my daily life. Things just weren’t working, and I would constantly be frustrated with school, church or people. Soon, depression grew like a tumor in my brain, keeping me from functioning and even recognizing that I was slipping into an actual clinical depression that would last two years.
I didn’t know I was depressed; I had no idea what that was like. I just knew time seemed to move much slower and existing just took forever. I didn’t realize I was now one of those people whom I couldn’t comprehend. I was the person who I used to look down upon because I didn’t understand them.
I used to think that depressed people weren’t as spiritually strong because they might have given in too easily to their thoughts or because they didn’t trust enough in God. What I would soon realize is that depressed people are quite the opposite. Many are bastions of faith who have to struggle twice as hard to have any fellowship with God. They are often more reliant on God because they have nothing left to rely on; depression has stripped them of any crutch that would work as a substitute.
There’s no comfort in relationships, no consolation to be had from a good speech or sermon, and not much to believe in or hope for. Worship becomes no more than ink arranged on paper and empty, familiar words spoken with no emotion. There are the countless hours spent wondering what’s wrong with you and why you can’t just be like everyone else?
Depressed people also usually have a keen intellect and critical mind that detects counterfeit or superficial attempts at spirituality. They know this because they’ve tried just thinking positively or wishing they were a better warrior for God and have come up short. Their normally healthy mind can drive itself into despair, can let itself wallow in sadness and even produce thoughts of suicide.
After a year and a half of living as a depressed Christian, the unfathomable became poignantly clear. I was depressed.
I knew what it felt like to not know where God is and to not know how to fix anything in your life. I knew how it felt to be the recipient of the sometimes hollow and distant sympathy, “I’ll pray for you.” I knew what it was like to have no motivation to accomplish anything because I was so consumed with my own problems. I now knew what depression looked like because I could look in the mirror and truly see myself there.
Now I know how real depression is, and how real struggle is in the spiritual life. I can no longer pigeonhole people who are truly suffering as “just not that spiritual.” People who seem to be on the outside of what I think is spiritual are usually the ones who know better than to have such a category. And I can only pray that someday God will bless me enough to be like them.
1/24/2004
www.relevantmag.com
'Familiar With Depression'
The idea of a depressed Christian used to seem like an oxymoron to me. Why would anyone who is a Christian be sad? I wondered. If a person really were a Christian, they should be able to remember all Christ had done for them, I figured. We really have no reason to be sad, let alone wallow in depression or sink into some lethargic sadness. People like that just need a better relationship with God, I thought. They probably didn’t pray the right way or didn’t even try to get anything out of their Bibles.
There just was no reason to be depressed—Christ has all the hope, joy and peace any person could ever need. It was such a foreign concept for me to understand; yet little did I know, this very problem was fermenting in my own head.
I always heard stories of believers who were depressed. I didn’t understand them or know how to start talking to them. I got some coffee one night with a friend from Germany and learned he wasn’t going to finish his semester at college. His grades were terrible, and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t fix them, so he was going to leave. Then he told me he was seeing a counselor for depression.
I was stumped. I told him I’d pray for him because I didn’t know what else to do.
Then there was another guy I knew on my floor at school who was in a similar situation. He hadn’t been doing well and was on academic probation. He told me he got behind because of depression.
Over my years at college, I would come to know many more people who dealt with depression. A statistic began to form as people left every semester either because depression killed their grades or they couldn’t recuperate from this disease while at school. The foreign concept didn’t seem so far away because people I knew and was friends with were suffering and introducing me to what depression really was.
As I became more familiar with depression, I saw how much it affects people and how much it can destroy a life. I saw how people lose all motivation for accomplishing anything or for trying to fix anything. I took notice of their outward symptoms, but was still clueless as to what the inner causes were. But I would soon know these inner causes, because they were slowly coming to a boil inside me.
I began feeling numb to more aspects of life. Small disappointments and unmet standards of spirituality started to accumulate in my daily life. Things just weren’t working, and I would constantly be frustrated with school, church or people. Soon, depression grew like a tumor in my brain, keeping me from functioning and even recognizing that I was slipping into an actual clinical depression that would last two years.
I didn’t know I was depressed; I had no idea what that was like. I just knew time seemed to move much slower and existing just took forever. I didn’t realize I was now one of those people whom I couldn’t comprehend. I was the person who I used to look down upon because I didn’t understand them.
I used to think that depressed people weren’t as spiritually strong because they might have given in too easily to their thoughts or because they didn’t trust enough in God. What I would soon realize is that depressed people are quite the opposite. Many are bastions of faith who have to struggle twice as hard to have any fellowship with God. They are often more reliant on God because they have nothing left to rely on; depression has stripped them of any crutch that would work as a substitute.
There’s no comfort in relationships, no consolation to be had from a good speech or sermon, and not much to believe in or hope for. Worship becomes no more than ink arranged on paper and empty, familiar words spoken with no emotion. There are the countless hours spent wondering what’s wrong with you and why you can’t just be like everyone else?
Depressed people also usually have a keen intellect and critical mind that detects counterfeit or superficial attempts at spirituality. They know this because they’ve tried just thinking positively or wishing they were a better warrior for God and have come up short. Their normally healthy mind can drive itself into despair, can let itself wallow in sadness and even produce thoughts of suicide.
After a year and a half of living as a depressed Christian, the unfathomable became poignantly clear. I was depressed.
I knew what it felt like to not know where God is and to not know how to fix anything in your life. I knew how it felt to be the recipient of the sometimes hollow and distant sympathy, “I’ll pray for you.” I knew what it was like to have no motivation to accomplish anything because I was so consumed with my own problems. I now knew what depression looked like because I could look in the mirror and truly see myself there.
Now I know how real depression is, and how real struggle is in the spiritual life. I can no longer pigeonhole people who are truly suffering as “just not that spiritual.” People who seem to be on the outside of what I think is spiritual are usually the ones who know better than to have such a category. And I can only pray that someday God will bless me enough to be like them.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Miller on The Brew; For Your Consideration
I just posted my review of Donald Miller's two newest books on The Brew.
I also added the first resource on the Emergent Church Movement on The Brew's Culture tab. It's a history and description of the Emergent and Emerging movements by pretty much the leader of it all, Mark Driscol.
I'm going to use The Culture Tab, formerly used for movie reviews, as a resource for all things Emergent this month. If you have any other good articles I can post or link to, let me know and I'll add it.
-----
Watched For Your Consideration. Had only a couple of chuckles. Or chortles.
I also added the first resource on the Emergent Church Movement on The Brew's Culture tab. It's a history and description of the Emergent and Emerging movements by pretty much the leader of it all, Mark Driscol.
I'm going to use The Culture Tab, formerly used for movie reviews, as a resource for all things Emergent this month. If you have any other good articles I can post or link to, let me know and I'll add it.
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Watched For Your Consideration. Had only a couple of chuckles. Or chortles.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Depression Series # 2
So here's the next in my depression series. This article I wrote for a counseling journal I put together for my senior print media project in school. I called the journal, "Issues", and it was pretty well received. I did a reprint a few years later when it became very relevant at my alma mater.
So this is what I was thinking about depression four years ago.
"Living With Depression"
Is this what Hell will be like?
To not have any connection with God
My memories of Him are all that’s left
But the past is gone
The future can’t be reached
And I’m just here
That’s what goes through my head when I’m depressed. God isn’t real and seems like merely a nice idea that a lot of people have. There’s not really a way to contact Him or see a response because you’re just here with all your thoughts to keep you company. And those thoughts are not usually kind.
Thoughts of regret, sadness and guilt were what consumed me for the longest time. I would drown in a tidal wave of guilt because I didn’t complete some small task on time or to the tee. Perfectionistic tendencies still set up shop in my brain despite my having studied Galatians in depth and marveled over 'grace' my freshman year. Forgetting to ‘do my devos’ was one of the largest initiators of guilt because if God was important, I’d make time for Him.
I’d regret not saying or doing something I ‘should’ have done or I’d just feel sad that I wasn’t connected to God. All of this would just create this cloud of sadness that would wrap around me for long stretches of time. I’d just sit and think about how I wasn’t right with God and how bad I felt about what I did 'wrong'.
I’d try to read my Bible and pray more but all these things were just physical acts that had no meaning. There was no God behind any of it. I could read for 24 hours straight and still not be right with God. Something major was wrong with me and I didn’t know what to do to get better.
I could try to do other spiritual things to fix it but my thoughts were still wrong. I could pray and God might have heard me but I was still consumed by wrong thoughts. These thought patterns had grown into me like ivy around a house and could not be cleared away without extensive work.
I was also numb to most everything. I didn’t really connect with people or to sad events that I heard about. Someone died of cancer, committed suicide, or was raped? “Life goes on,” I might think. It would take something extreme, movies like Magnolia or stories by Flannery O’Conner perhaps, to revive my senses to a low-level working order. Existential philosophers, like Søren Kierkegaard, also became geniuses to me.
I ache to be alive again
I ache to feel what feelings are
I yearn to know the experience of worship
I yearn to have the words truly affect me
Does what I’m singing really mean anything?
Can saying what’s true mean something
Even if it’s just an physical act?
I can’t remember when I first started to be depressed but I do remember when God reminded He was still there. Halfway through this past summer, I had a few thoughts that were pivotal in coping with depression: “This isn’t going to last forever. You won’t always be like this.”
I was pretty sure this was from God because my mind could never have produced this during that time. There were no romantic notions or spiritual revelations going through my mind. If the clouds in the sky spread apart and sunlight broke through to warm my numbed skin, it wouldn’t register. I’d see the scene above and think, “That’s kinda nice.” The two thoughts from God were awesome but they didn’t change how I thought.
I’m not sure how long it took, but I started to realize how huge a role my thoughts played. Even if I just finished some awesome time in the Word, the depressed thoughts could still take over and make me waste another two hours sitting and wallowing. I started to ask God to help me with my thoughts. I didn’t know what or how to do anything but I just needed help.
More time passed and I started to realize quicker when I would be depressed. I could almost figure out a specific time of the day when an episode started so I kept praying and asking for more help. I eventually was able to pin point what events triggered the thoughts of guilt, sadness or regret, but only after more time and stretches of depression had passed.
It was about then that I realized how much I truly needed God. I realized how idiotic was the Schuler-esque, American evangelical idea of changing your thinking through your own will power. A person’s thoughts are more powerful than we realize and any self-help fluff you can buy in a Christian bookstore can’t truly fix them. Only a genuine relationship with God, and perhaps some counseling, can really change negative thought patterns.
As much as I wanted to get help from a counselor, I never did, which was probably to my detriment. After almost a year of suffering, I finally was able to figure out my thought patterns and know what triggered a downward spiral of thoughts. Whenever I realized I was in that state, I could stop and ask God for help again with my thoughts.
Sometimes the episodes last a day, sometimes only a half-hour, but they haven’t gone away completely. I've come to realize that this is not just something you can cut out of your life. Overcoming depression would be awesome if all you had to do would be cut out part of your brain. But things aren't that easy. Depression is something you have to live with, but not give in to. It's almost like this sadness, guilt, or despair has to play with happiness, joy and contentment. Joy plays hopscotch with Sadness and cheers him on so he can figure out that he is Son of God. Despair is given an underdog on the swing set by Contentment and is made to laugh and smile.
Yet whenever I do get depressed, I see, yet again, how much I need God and turn to him. God won’t seem real and there won’t seem to be any reason to even consider getting better. But just asking for help, be it from counselors or God, is the only way anyone will ever get better.
So this is what I was thinking about depression four years ago.
"Living With Depression"
Is this what Hell will be like?
To not have any connection with God
My memories of Him are all that’s left
But the past is gone
The future can’t be reached
And I’m just here
That’s what goes through my head when I’m depressed. God isn’t real and seems like merely a nice idea that a lot of people have. There’s not really a way to contact Him or see a response because you’re just here with all your thoughts to keep you company. And those thoughts are not usually kind.
Thoughts of regret, sadness and guilt were what consumed me for the longest time. I would drown in a tidal wave of guilt because I didn’t complete some small task on time or to the tee. Perfectionistic tendencies still set up shop in my brain despite my having studied Galatians in depth and marveled over 'grace' my freshman year. Forgetting to ‘do my devos’ was one of the largest initiators of guilt because if God was important, I’d make time for Him.
I’d regret not saying or doing something I ‘should’ have done or I’d just feel sad that I wasn’t connected to God. All of this would just create this cloud of sadness that would wrap around me for long stretches of time. I’d just sit and think about how I wasn’t right with God and how bad I felt about what I did 'wrong'.
I’d try to read my Bible and pray more but all these things were just physical acts that had no meaning. There was no God behind any of it. I could read for 24 hours straight and still not be right with God. Something major was wrong with me and I didn’t know what to do to get better.
I could try to do other spiritual things to fix it but my thoughts were still wrong. I could pray and God might have heard me but I was still consumed by wrong thoughts. These thought patterns had grown into me like ivy around a house and could not be cleared away without extensive work.
I was also numb to most everything. I didn’t really connect with people or to sad events that I heard about. Someone died of cancer, committed suicide, or was raped? “Life goes on,” I might think. It would take something extreme, movies like Magnolia or stories by Flannery O’Conner perhaps, to revive my senses to a low-level working order. Existential philosophers, like Søren Kierkegaard, also became geniuses to me.
I ache to be alive again
I ache to feel what feelings are
I yearn to know the experience of worship
I yearn to have the words truly affect me
Does what I’m singing really mean anything?
Can saying what’s true mean something
Even if it’s just an physical act?
I can’t remember when I first started to be depressed but I do remember when God reminded He was still there. Halfway through this past summer, I had a few thoughts that were pivotal in coping with depression: “This isn’t going to last forever. You won’t always be like this.”
I was pretty sure this was from God because my mind could never have produced this during that time. There were no romantic notions or spiritual revelations going through my mind. If the clouds in the sky spread apart and sunlight broke through to warm my numbed skin, it wouldn’t register. I’d see the scene above and think, “That’s kinda nice.” The two thoughts from God were awesome but they didn’t change how I thought.
I’m not sure how long it took, but I started to realize how huge a role my thoughts played. Even if I just finished some awesome time in the Word, the depressed thoughts could still take over and make me waste another two hours sitting and wallowing. I started to ask God to help me with my thoughts. I didn’t know what or how to do anything but I just needed help.
More time passed and I started to realize quicker when I would be depressed. I could almost figure out a specific time of the day when an episode started so I kept praying and asking for more help. I eventually was able to pin point what events triggered the thoughts of guilt, sadness or regret, but only after more time and stretches of depression had passed.
It was about then that I realized how much I truly needed God. I realized how idiotic was the Schuler-esque, American evangelical idea of changing your thinking through your own will power. A person’s thoughts are more powerful than we realize and any self-help fluff you can buy in a Christian bookstore can’t truly fix them. Only a genuine relationship with God, and perhaps some counseling, can really change negative thought patterns.
As much as I wanted to get help from a counselor, I never did, which was probably to my detriment. After almost a year of suffering, I finally was able to figure out my thought patterns and know what triggered a downward spiral of thoughts. Whenever I realized I was in that state, I could stop and ask God for help again with my thoughts.
Sometimes the episodes last a day, sometimes only a half-hour, but they haven’t gone away completely. I've come to realize that this is not just something you can cut out of your life. Overcoming depression would be awesome if all you had to do would be cut out part of your brain. But things aren't that easy. Depression is something you have to live with, but not give in to. It's almost like this sadness, guilt, or despair has to play with happiness, joy and contentment. Joy plays hopscotch with Sadness and cheers him on so he can figure out that he is Son of God. Despair is given an underdog on the swing set by Contentment and is made to laugh and smile.
Yet whenever I do get depressed, I see, yet again, how much I need God and turn to him. God won’t seem real and there won’t seem to be any reason to even consider getting better. But just asking for help, be it from counselors or God, is the only way anyone will ever get better.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Editorial; Evil Dead 2; A Nyquil Night
I posted March's editorial on The Brew today.
--------------
I watched the Evil Dead 2 tonight, as well. Easier to take than the first. Had a classic scene of Bruce Campbell fighting against his own hand, which had been infected with evil.
------------
I'm also fighting a wicked cold/flu/seasonal malady. Tally of everything I've taken today: 2 packets of Emergen-C; Thera-Flu, 2 Aleves. And I'm soon going to be very good friends with a bottle Nyquil. Oh, the sweetness of a Nyquil night and a good night's sleep.
--------------
I watched the Evil Dead 2 tonight, as well. Easier to take than the first. Had a classic scene of Bruce Campbell fighting against his own hand, which had been infected with evil.
------------
I'm also fighting a wicked cold/flu/seasonal malady. Tally of everything I've taken today: 2 packets of Emergen-C; Thera-Flu, 2 Aleves. And I'm soon going to be very good friends with a bottle Nyquil. Oh, the sweetness of a Nyquil night and a good night's sleep.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Depression Series - #1
So this is the first of nine articles I'll post on depression. I wanted to do this because I wanted to draw some attention to mental disorders. So many people out there struggle with all kinds of maladies of the mind. Besides struggling with depression myself, a friend of mine struggled with obsessive compulsive disorder, one of the possible reasons for him committing suicide two years ago. (For more on this friend, search for Clark Stacy on this blog to find all the posts that are flagged about him).
So this was probably the first essay I wrote on depression while I was in college. I put it together for the Jerry Jenkins Writing contest my alma mater held. So I had to think, "What would the author of the Left Behind books think would be a great essay on depression?" I almost didn't know how to answer that question but here's what I came up with.
---------
God Isn't Real When You're Depressed
God isn’t real when you’re depressed. He doesn’t reach into your naturalistic life and affect you in any way. All that is real is what you can see and touch and what crumbles in your hand when crushed.
For about half a year, these were the kind of thoughts that I had. Somehow, God became Someone who was extremely distant and didn’t have much to do with how I went to work or how I brushed my teeth in the mornings. Whatever connection that injected divine purpose, or any purpose for that matter, into my life seemed to have disappeared. There only seemed to be the methodic activities that I had to perform each day.
Shaving became a joy, or as much a joy as such an act can be. A Mach 3 triple razor skidded across my cheek, slowly ripping out the stubble that had grown through my skin during the night. The warm, burning sensation on my neck and cheeks from shaving were physical sensations that helped me to feel pain. I was happy for being able to feel anything at all; emotions and other sensations had withered away.
There was once a relationship with Christ that showered me with physical sensations and meaning from some otherworldly mystery. Before I went to bed each night, I could kneel down to pray and just by remembering the events of that day be overwhelmed with how God had worked in my life. I could hardly pray or think straight because I saw how much God loved me and how He had orchestrated what different people had said or done to show me this. I could only cry at knowing how much I was loved and how much I meant to God.
Yet for some reason, I didn’t have that anymore. Those snapshots of faith seemed to be a sort of photo album of the past and not much more than memories. The dynamic relationship with Christ from back then seemed too distant to have any effect on the depression of the here and now. Life was more existential and focused on the table and chair I was sitting at rather than the mystery of God speaking from above the clouds or wherever He truly was.
I knew that God was still there somewhere, yet that didn’t help me with my present situation. I had gradually become numb to anything spiritual and didn’t want to bother trying to figure out why. I was just here and knew that I needed to be somewhere else. My relationship with God had somehow become shredded, if not hacked to pieces, leaving me to merely wake up, exist for a few hours and then go to sleep again. There wasn’t really any reason for doing anything except that I was alive and had to do something.
During those months, one of the best distractions from thinking about how I wasn’t right with God was an online computer game called Super Bounce Out. I would spend hours rearranging colored balls on a screen so that when three of the same color were side by side, they would bounce out, making room for new ones. I made this a sort of priority and cherished the time spent scoring points on something that didn’t matter for anything. I reached a high score of 145,000 points on level 11, where you had to bounce out 175 balls in a short period of time. Somehow, this had meaning for me: I could always get to the next level and this was an accomplishment.
I didn’t know how or why I was like this. My life over the past year was a success story, like many others who get this way. I was editor-in-chief of the school paper and scared some of the administration with an article I wrote. I applied for and became an RA. I went to Africa over Spring Break and helped to proofread a translation of the Bible in a native language I didn’t know. I was a leader in the youth group at my church. I met a girl and started dating her during the spring semester and would spend the whole summer growing closer to her. I had absolutely no reason to be like I was.
These two thoughts did not become a romantic experience where I saw an opening in those clouds and was washed in a warming light that gave life to my cold, numb skin. As great as that would be to experience, I might not even have been able to receive that. My mind might have merely responded, “That’s kind of pretty.” Rather, the thoughts were simple and without flashy lights or sensuous smells to awaken me from my slumber.
“This isn’t going to last forever. You won’t always be like this.”
There was hope in those two sentences because I knew myself so well and knew where the thoughts must have come from. I knew where my state of mind presently was and what had been trickling out of it. A person who is depressed is not so likely to have hopeful thoughts because they are in the habit of dwelling on whatever is wrong. I couldn’t stop what I was doing, take a deep breath, and take a few moments to fix all the wrong thoughts that had been isolating me from God. My mind was still tightly fastened to the existential, natural world and couldn’t suddenly break the roots that held me there. So the idea that what I was suffering through wouldn’t last forever must have come from somewhere outside of me.
I soon began to realize that God was above all that existed around me and had the power to trump the natural laws He had made. He could dig into my grimy, dirt-under-your-fingernails-world to change things and perhaps even help me repair my shredded relationship. I slowly began to learn what ‘supernatural’ looked like in the numbing grind of daily life. A pitiful creature whose faith in himself and his reason to solve things would be shown how little meaning there was in himself and his reason. I saw this lack of meaning and began asking for help.
The hopeful thoughts became a new companion in the playground of my mind.
Unhappiness skipped over hopscotch squares as Hope of Changing cheered it on. Lack of Motivation swung harder on and higher on the playground swings as Hope of a Better Time pushed it. The depressing thoughts would remain like an unwelcome guest despite my knowledge that God had begun to supernaturally fix me.
I thought about reading the Bible and what better book to read when depressed than Ecclesiastes. Solomon, the wisest king of Israel, had gained everything his natural heart could want but, thanks to his wisdom from God, he saw it all as meaningless. All he could build or do was all in vain if meaning was not found in God. I discovered a phrase that Solomon repeated five times throughout the book: There is nothing better for a man to eat, drink, and enjoy his work, for that is the gift of God.
Solomon’s wisdom seemed to affirm my experience with depression. This life was just what it was and nothing else. Any meaning for all of my activities must come from God. In my natural world of tasks and tending to responsibilities, God would supernaturally provide meaning for it all.
This supernatural ability was more and more revealed to me as time went on. Small vignettes of people being put in the right place or circumstances working out to my favor didn’t always look like coincidences anymore. From an existential mindset, God working in our boring, everyday lives can be seen as nothing but chance. However, I can’t accept that anymore. God is supernatural and can rescue us from our naturalistic lives and prove His character through our struggles.
So this was probably the first essay I wrote on depression while I was in college. I put it together for the Jerry Jenkins Writing contest my alma mater held. So I had to think, "What would the author of the Left Behind books think would be a great essay on depression?" I almost didn't know how to answer that question but here's what I came up with.
---------
God Isn't Real When You're Depressed
God isn’t real when you’re depressed. He doesn’t reach into your naturalistic life and affect you in any way. All that is real is what you can see and touch and what crumbles in your hand when crushed.
For about half a year, these were the kind of thoughts that I had. Somehow, God became Someone who was extremely distant and didn’t have much to do with how I went to work or how I brushed my teeth in the mornings. Whatever connection that injected divine purpose, or any purpose for that matter, into my life seemed to have disappeared. There only seemed to be the methodic activities that I had to perform each day.
Shaving became a joy, or as much a joy as such an act can be. A Mach 3 triple razor skidded across my cheek, slowly ripping out the stubble that had grown through my skin during the night. The warm, burning sensation on my neck and cheeks from shaving were physical sensations that helped me to feel pain. I was happy for being able to feel anything at all; emotions and other sensations had withered away.
There was once a relationship with Christ that showered me with physical sensations and meaning from some otherworldly mystery. Before I went to bed each night, I could kneel down to pray and just by remembering the events of that day be overwhelmed with how God had worked in my life. I could hardly pray or think straight because I saw how much God loved me and how He had orchestrated what different people had said or done to show me this. I could only cry at knowing how much I was loved and how much I meant to God.
Yet for some reason, I didn’t have that anymore. Those snapshots of faith seemed to be a sort of photo album of the past and not much more than memories. The dynamic relationship with Christ from back then seemed too distant to have any effect on the depression of the here and now. Life was more existential and focused on the table and chair I was sitting at rather than the mystery of God speaking from above the clouds or wherever He truly was.
I knew that God was still there somewhere, yet that didn’t help me with my present situation. I had gradually become numb to anything spiritual and didn’t want to bother trying to figure out why. I was just here and knew that I needed to be somewhere else. My relationship with God had somehow become shredded, if not hacked to pieces, leaving me to merely wake up, exist for a few hours and then go to sleep again. There wasn’t really any reason for doing anything except that I was alive and had to do something.
During those months, one of the best distractions from thinking about how I wasn’t right with God was an online computer game called Super Bounce Out. I would spend hours rearranging colored balls on a screen so that when three of the same color were side by side, they would bounce out, making room for new ones. I made this a sort of priority and cherished the time spent scoring points on something that didn’t matter for anything. I reached a high score of 145,000 points on level 11, where you had to bounce out 175 balls in a short period of time. Somehow, this had meaning for me: I could always get to the next level and this was an accomplishment.
I didn’t know how or why I was like this. My life over the past year was a success story, like many others who get this way. I was editor-in-chief of the school paper and scared some of the administration with an article I wrote. I applied for and became an RA. I went to Africa over Spring Break and helped to proofread a translation of the Bible in a native language I didn’t know. I was a leader in the youth group at my church. I met a girl and started dating her during the spring semester and would spend the whole summer growing closer to her. I had absolutely no reason to be like I was.
These two thoughts did not become a romantic experience where I saw an opening in those clouds and was washed in a warming light that gave life to my cold, numb skin. As great as that would be to experience, I might not even have been able to receive that. My mind might have merely responded, “That’s kind of pretty.” Rather, the thoughts were simple and without flashy lights or sensuous smells to awaken me from my slumber.
“This isn’t going to last forever. You won’t always be like this.”
There was hope in those two sentences because I knew myself so well and knew where the thoughts must have come from. I knew where my state of mind presently was and what had been trickling out of it. A person who is depressed is not so likely to have hopeful thoughts because they are in the habit of dwelling on whatever is wrong. I couldn’t stop what I was doing, take a deep breath, and take a few moments to fix all the wrong thoughts that had been isolating me from God. My mind was still tightly fastened to the existential, natural world and couldn’t suddenly break the roots that held me there. So the idea that what I was suffering through wouldn’t last forever must have come from somewhere outside of me.
I soon began to realize that God was above all that existed around me and had the power to trump the natural laws He had made. He could dig into my grimy, dirt-under-your-fingernails-world to change things and perhaps even help me repair my shredded relationship. I slowly began to learn what ‘supernatural’ looked like in the numbing grind of daily life. A pitiful creature whose faith in himself and his reason to solve things would be shown how little meaning there was in himself and his reason. I saw this lack of meaning and began asking for help.
The hopeful thoughts became a new companion in the playground of my mind.
Unhappiness skipped over hopscotch squares as Hope of Changing cheered it on. Lack of Motivation swung harder on and higher on the playground swings as Hope of a Better Time pushed it. The depressing thoughts would remain like an unwelcome guest despite my knowledge that God had begun to supernaturally fix me.
I thought about reading the Bible and what better book to read when depressed than Ecclesiastes. Solomon, the wisest king of Israel, had gained everything his natural heart could want but, thanks to his wisdom from God, he saw it all as meaningless. All he could build or do was all in vain if meaning was not found in God. I discovered a phrase that Solomon repeated five times throughout the book: There is nothing better for a man to eat, drink, and enjoy his work, for that is the gift of God.
Solomon’s wisdom seemed to affirm my experience with depression. This life was just what it was and nothing else. Any meaning for all of my activities must come from God. In my natural world of tasks and tending to responsibilities, God would supernaturally provide meaning for it all.
This supernatural ability was more and more revealed to me as time went on. Small vignettes of people being put in the right place or circumstances working out to my favor didn’t always look like coincidences anymore. From an existential mindset, God working in our boring, everyday lives can be seen as nothing but chance. However, I can’t accept that anymore. God is supernatural and can rescue us from our naturalistic lives and prove His character through our struggles.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Jesus on Your Arm; What I Really Mean; American Splendor
So a guy walks into my store yesterday with a tatoo of this painting on his forearm. So, thinking I'd be pretty with it, I asked him, "So you got a DiCianni on your arm?" (What I didn't know is that the painting merely looked like a Ron DiCianni painting).
The guy then began telling me about something about what the Bible said about the Gospel. Not wanting to admit my artistic faux pax of mixing up artists, I moved on. (The tat was something to see, though. It was in full color and looked like it took a while to finish).
I then asked him about his t-shirt, which said "Epic Surf Ministries". "Yeah," he said. "We're in California and we run surf summer camps and Bible clubs."
Wow. Didn't know there was such a thing.
-------------------
I posted the last ambiguous article on The Brew today, written by none other than yours truly.
-------------------------
Watched American Splendor yesterday. Great movie about an odd file clerk who drew comics of every day stuff and became semi-famous for it. It's a great mix of film, interviews and comics to tell Harvey Pekar's story.
The guy then began telling me about something about what the Bible said about the Gospel. Not wanting to admit my artistic faux pax of mixing up artists, I moved on. (The tat was something to see, though. It was in full color and looked like it took a while to finish).
I then asked him about his t-shirt, which said "Epic Surf Ministries". "Yeah," he said. "We're in California and we run surf summer camps and Bible clubs."
Wow. Didn't know there was such a thing.
-------------------
I posted the last ambiguous article on The Brew today, written by none other than yours truly.
-------------------------
Watched American Splendor yesterday. Great movie about an odd file clerk who drew comics of every day stuff and became semi-famous for it. It's a great mix of film, interviews and comics to tell Harvey Pekar's story.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Caffeine-Free Can Wait; Trent; Books For Lent; My 9 Articles
So I bought a pound of unroasted beans from White Rock Coffee at half the normal price. I got a pound of Ethiopia Harrar Makeda for only $7.50. A friend with a home roaster is going to hook me up so then I can enjoy the great blueberry flavor that comes from the coffee. Having done that, there's no way I can go caffeine-free during March like I had planned. So I'll have to wait till the Makeda runs out.
-----------
I posted Trent's article on The Brew on ambiguous political allegiances.
-------------
So far so good with no TV during Lent. Finished The Book Of The Dun Cow. Started slow but picked up quickly. Other books up for reading during Lent: The Devil In The White City; Blessed Assurance; Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference; Searching For God Knows What; The Book Against God; Cry, The Beloved County.
------------------
I found that I had more on depression than I thought. So I'll start posting the 9 essays I've written over the years staring next week.
-----------
I posted Trent's article on The Brew on ambiguous political allegiances.
-------------
So far so good with no TV during Lent. Finished The Book Of The Dun Cow. Started slow but picked up quickly. Other books up for reading during Lent: The Devil In The White City; Blessed Assurance; Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference; Searching For God Knows What; The Book Against God; Cry, The Beloved County.
------------------
I found that I had more on depression than I thought. So I'll start posting the 9 essays I've written over the years staring next week.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Had a conversation with a friend about different translations of the Bible. My thoughts came together as I was talking out my NAS but it ended up sounding truly together, smooth and...(trying to find a way to work in an ESV pun)....
So here's what came out: The New American Standard version came out in the 90s, and was kind of rigid and wooden, though more accurate than the NIV, which was published back in the 60s or 70s. I'm sure that since the NAS, everyone's understanding of the Bible and scholarship has matured and grown since then. I thought that perhaps the generation that each translation was produced in might have bearing on how that version is put together.
The example that comes to mind is how the ESV translates some pronouns, say he or she. The ESV has side notes whenever there is a pronoun which isn't necessarily masculine that says, 'he or she'. This made me wonder if this is according to the newest scholarship or evangelicals realizing past mistakes (?) in how they treated the pronouns.
So my spur of the moment conclusion is that there's surely some influence each generation has on newer translations.
---------------------
Dan's article on the Brew spurred some true dialog with lengthy comments and responses. Check 'em out after Dan's "Compassion and Theology" article.
Also, I posted another new author Lesley on the current Brew. She writes about the ambiguous future.
-------
Next month will be two years since a friend committed suicide. I've been trying to think of what to do and I think I'll post all that I've written on depression during March. So it'll be four or five essays I've written over the last five years on my experiences with depression.
--------
And to keep you guys from thinking that I'm too spiritual, I'll admit that I watched The Evil Dead last night, at my roommate's request ( he recently got the complete trilogy that ends with Army Of Darkness). The description on the DVD case said it was the most disturbing movie ever made. Though it stars funny man Bruce Campbell and contains the cheesiest horror effects from the 80s, it was truly disturbing. I'm hoping the middile installment (The Evil Dead 2) might be funnier. Chalk one up for truth in advertising.
So here's what came out: The New American Standard version came out in the 90s, and was kind of rigid and wooden, though more accurate than the NIV, which was published back in the 60s or 70s. I'm sure that since the NAS, everyone's understanding of the Bible and scholarship has matured and grown since then. I thought that perhaps the generation that each translation was produced in might have bearing on how that version is put together.
The example that comes to mind is how the ESV translates some pronouns, say he or she. The ESV has side notes whenever there is a pronoun which isn't necessarily masculine that says, 'he or she'. This made me wonder if this is according to the newest scholarship or evangelicals realizing past mistakes (?) in how they treated the pronouns.
So my spur of the moment conclusion is that there's surely some influence each generation has on newer translations.
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Dan's article on the Brew spurred some true dialog with lengthy comments and responses. Check 'em out after Dan's "Compassion and Theology" article.
Also, I posted another new author Lesley on the current Brew. She writes about the ambiguous future.
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Next month will be two years since a friend committed suicide. I've been trying to think of what to do and I think I'll post all that I've written on depression during March. So it'll be four or five essays I've written over the last five years on my experiences with depression.
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And to keep you guys from thinking that I'm too spiritual, I'll admit that I watched The Evil Dead last night, at my roommate's request ( he recently got the complete trilogy that ends with Army Of Darkness). The description on the DVD case said it was the most disturbing movie ever made. Though it stars funny man Bruce Campbell and contains the cheesiest horror effects from the 80s, it was truly disturbing. I'm hoping the middile installment (The Evil Dead 2) might be funnier. Chalk one up for truth in advertising.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Lent is coming up and I'm thinking of giving up TV for that six weeks. I'm weening myself off of it this and next week. So far so good. Instead of TV, I'm getting into writing more and reading more.
I've gotten used to the fact that I won't be able to see all the Lost episodes in order, so giving it up is easier. And Lost is best viewed in weekend-long binges where you watch half of a season in one sitting.
I wrote two devotionals for my church's Lent devotional and I'll post them on the days they were designated for.
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Started reading The Devil In The White City. If anyone else salivates over anything Chicago like I do, this book will surely curb your appetite in a good way. It's a history book of Chicago set around the Columbian Exposition of the late 1800's. Half the book is research in presented in quotations marks but author Erik Larson works the facts in around a storyline following city architect Dan Burham and a serial killer who used the expo to kill scores of women.
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I posted Dan's article on compassion, theology and ambiguity on The Brew today. It's another article that defines potent.
I'm looking for writers who have an interest or opinion on the Emergent Church for the March issue. So far, I've only got one taker, leaving many topics to be covered. To see a full list of topics for March, email me at eric@caffeinatedstudio.com .
I've gotten used to the fact that I won't be able to see all the Lost episodes in order, so giving it up is easier. And Lost is best viewed in weekend-long binges where you watch half of a season in one sitting.
I wrote two devotionals for my church's Lent devotional and I'll post them on the days they were designated for.
--------
Started reading The Devil In The White City. If anyone else salivates over anything Chicago like I do, this book will surely curb your appetite in a good way. It's a history book of Chicago set around the Columbian Exposition of the late 1800's. Half the book is research in presented in quotations marks but author Erik Larson works the facts in around a storyline following city architect Dan Burham and a serial killer who used the expo to kill scores of women.
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I posted Dan's article on compassion, theology and ambiguity on The Brew today. It's another article that defines potent.
I'm looking for writers who have an interest or opinion on the Emergent Church for the March issue. So far, I've only got one taker, leaving many topics to be covered. To see a full list of topics for March, email me at eric@caffeinatedstudio.com .
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
I posted Kate's article on a social experiment involving online dating sites and co-workers on The Brew. It's The Brew's way of saying, Happy Valentine's Day.
The Brew is getting bigger and bigger. I spent nearly all of my free time today online with posting new articles, answering and sending out emails and keeping up a good online presence. You think if I didn't have an actual physical body, I might exist only online.
What a thought.
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Upcoming movies I'm pumped about:
Blake Snake Moan: if someone turned a Flannery O'Conner story into a movie, it might look like this.
Sunshine: Brit director Danny "28 Days Later" Boyle's version of sci-fi.
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Another great Kierkegaard prayer from Provocations.
"Oh God, forgive me for seeking excitement and enjoyment in the allurements of the world which are never truly satisfying. If like the prodigal son, I have gone in search of the wonders of the transient world, forgive me, and receive me back again into your encircling arms of love."
The Brew is getting bigger and bigger. I spent nearly all of my free time today online with posting new articles, answering and sending out emails and keeping up a good online presence. You think if I didn't have an actual physical body, I might exist only online.
What a thought.
------------
Upcoming movies I'm pumped about:
Blake Snake Moan: if someone turned a Flannery O'Conner story into a movie, it might look like this.
Sunshine: Brit director Danny "28 Days Later" Boyle's version of sci-fi.
---------------
Another great Kierkegaard prayer from Provocations.
"Oh God, forgive me for seeking excitement and enjoyment in the allurements of the world which are never truly satisfying. If like the prodigal son, I have gone in search of the wonders of the transient world, forgive me, and receive me back again into your encircling arms of love."
Monday, February 12, 2007
Love and Chicago-Style in Dallas
In honor of Valentines's Day this week, The Brew is feature a three articles all on the subject of love, with the usual Brew style. First up is a penetrating look at abuse of the word love by Lonnie. Watch later this week for a social experiment involving co-workers at an online dating site and for finding where theology, love and ambiguity come together.
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Found a Chicago-style pizza place in Dallas. Chicago Rick's has a pretty decent pie. It's almost a light version of the real thing, with about half the crust and half the cheese, but still made upside down as it should be. I would've thought that Texans would've wanted a bigger, better, more gluttonous version of Chicago-style, but it seems that they can't even handle the real thing. So chalk one up for ol' Chi-town.
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The coffee-chain-that-shall-eternally-remain-nameless now only serves trans-fat free pastries. Including the silly cupcakes which are more trouble than they are worth, packaging-wise.
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Watched the painfully funny Series 2 of the Office this week. Sometimes the British-isms still needed translation but the awkwardness never does.
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Found a Chicago-style pizza place in Dallas. Chicago Rick's has a pretty decent pie. It's almost a light version of the real thing, with about half the crust and half the cheese, but still made upside down as it should be. I would've thought that Texans would've wanted a bigger, better, more gluttonous version of Chicago-style, but it seems that they can't even handle the real thing. So chalk one up for ol' Chi-town.
---------
The coffee-chain-that-shall-eternally-remain-nameless now only serves trans-fat free pastries. Including the silly cupcakes which are more trouble than they are worth, packaging-wise.
----------
Watched the painfully funny Series 2 of the Office this week. Sometimes the British-isms still needed translation but the awkwardness never does.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Other News
Ted Haggart finished a three-week rehab program. Read about it here. What's most interesting are the comments at the end of the article that show the worst of who we are.
In better news, I posted the first ambiguous article on the Brew. It's a great look at G.K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday, by Kevin.
In better news, I posted the first ambiguous article on the Brew. It's a great look at G.K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday, by Kevin.
Headline News
The Brew received around 11,400 page views in January, with 1,791 unique visitors. That's freakin' awesome. Word of mouth is picking up steam. If you like The Brew, join the blogring (xanga) or group (MySpace or Facebook) so others can hear about it. (That's my persuasive speech to ask you guys to help advertise The Brew for free.)
I posted this month's editorial on Ambiguity on The Brew. There's lot's of good stuff to come. An essay on The Man Who Was Thursday; confidence in ambiguity in on online dating site; Word abuse and the word 'love' becoming ambiguous; An Exercise in Ambiguity; Finding God in the Ambiguous Future; unclear occupation expectations for young single people in Evangelicalism. And more to come as well. If interested in writing, email eric@caffeinatedstudio.com.
I'm known at my church as 'that single guy from Chicago' to a growing number of people I have never met. The reason this is remarkable is because there are no other people from Chicago there.
Ha! I wish. A single guy at my small Dallas church is more the oddity than someone being from Chicago. I've fielded many a question like, "So what do you think about a singles ministry?"
A friend got me the first six Season 3 episodes of Lost, which I missed. I'm caught up now, both story-wise and it's-all-I'm-thinking-about-now-wise.
Was disappointed with the Superbowl. Bears had one good play but then went downhill after the first two minutes of the game.
Commercials? Anyone else yawn through them?
Chicago's temp today: 5 degrees (w/out windchill). Dallas: 64 degrees.
I posted this month's editorial on Ambiguity on The Brew. There's lot's of good stuff to come. An essay on The Man Who Was Thursday; confidence in ambiguity in on online dating site; Word abuse and the word 'love' becoming ambiguous; An Exercise in Ambiguity; Finding God in the Ambiguous Future; unclear occupation expectations for young single people in Evangelicalism. And more to come as well. If interested in writing, email eric@caffeinatedstudio.com.
I'm known at my church as 'that single guy from Chicago' to a growing number of people I have never met. The reason this is remarkable is because there are no other people from Chicago there.
Ha! I wish. A single guy at my small Dallas church is more the oddity than someone being from Chicago. I've fielded many a question like, "So what do you think about a singles ministry?"
A friend got me the first six Season 3 episodes of Lost, which I missed. I'm caught up now, both story-wise and it's-all-I'm-thinking-about-now-wise.
Was disappointed with the Superbowl. Bears had one good play but then went downhill after the first two minutes of the game.
Commercials? Anyone else yawn through them?
Chicago's temp today: 5 degrees (w/out windchill). Dallas: 64 degrees.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
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