I had to take down the last two posts that featured my interview with Delirious? bassist John Thatcher, because the article won't be published until July in Veritasse magazine.
I'm a little used to more of the start-up mentality with it comes to publishing things, where you can publish about anything.
But come July, after I get permission to reprint the interview from the magazine editor, I'll re-post it here. So you can wait till then or go out and buy Veritasse at a Barnes and Noble or Borders.
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On those previous posts (which I had to delete), I linked to Dan Morgan's article. If you missed it, here it is again.
I also just posted Kevin Schwartz's article "Creating Space For Home," which runs a long a similar vein thematically as Dan's.
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Had an encouraging conversation with a friend of mine about progress. We had a common bond of both suffering from depression, either now or in the past. So the idea of progress means a lot.
While talking, I realized that I've made a lot of progress in dealing with depression. I've been able to deal with depression as it comes and still get on with my life. I can say that I have a healthier faith and am probably optimistic when it comes to thinking about faith (probably still not so much about humanity).
Some of the things that help me are: staying busy; not trying to do much when I am depressed; get a good night's sleep when I am depressed and start over the next day. Use films as an outlet of expression or let them be a healthy distraction (Film is the Brew's topic for June, also).
It's funny that I realized this now. Because I could probably say that I'm one of those people I used to look at and think, "Wow. I know that they struggled with depression. And look at them now. They're getting married. They have a good job. They're not holed up in some apartment somewhere, unable to do anything." Those people gave me hope.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
New Brew; Crazy News; Christian Music
I just posted new author Dave Fischer's article "Arrival, Departure and Places In-Between" on The Brew.
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More Crazy News:
A Japanese idea to deal with overpopulation.
How a little suburban Dallas town is dealing with illegal immigration.
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During the last week and half I immersed myself in everything Delirious? to get ready to interview them on Wednesday. I haven't been a big fan of worship music, and I usually gravitate toward most anything darker or edgier. But Delirious? grew on me, especially their most recent album The Mission Bell. There's plenty of edgier and darker songs on the album and a good friend of mine describe the album as probing the dark side of worship.
This made me realize that I recently had somehow been more willing to listen to Christian music. I even went to a LifeWay store and bought 4 of the clearance CDs: Glo by Delirious?; Drawing Black Lines by Project 86; the untitled debut album by The Benjamin Gate; and a remix cd of John Ruben hits.
Maybe I'm not outright dismissing Christian music as much as I used to. I'd always give lip service to the 'real' artists out there and how they're not becoming products of the record labels desperately trying to keep up with pop culture. But now I'm actually turning to the Christian rock station more often and keeping my radio there.
Maybe it was seeing MuteMath live. Maybe it was the Delirious? binge. Maybe it was Toby Mac's new over-produced-but-catchier-than-classic-Newsboys song "Boomin." If you haven't heard 'Boomin' yet, you've got to check it out for it's sheer audacity and attitude.
-----------
More Crazy News:
A Japanese idea to deal with overpopulation.
How a little suburban Dallas town is dealing with illegal immigration.
--------------------------------------
During the last week and half I immersed myself in everything Delirious? to get ready to interview them on Wednesday. I haven't been a big fan of worship music, and I usually gravitate toward most anything darker or edgier. But Delirious? grew on me, especially their most recent album The Mission Bell. There's plenty of edgier and darker songs on the album and a good friend of mine describe the album as probing the dark side of worship.
This made me realize that I recently had somehow been more willing to listen to Christian music. I even went to a LifeWay store and bought 4 of the clearance CDs: Glo by Delirious?; Drawing Black Lines by Project 86; the untitled debut album by The Benjamin Gate; and a remix cd of John Ruben hits.
Maybe I'm not outright dismissing Christian music as much as I used to. I'd always give lip service to the 'real' artists out there and how they're not becoming products of the record labels desperately trying to keep up with pop culture. But now I'm actually turning to the Christian rock station more often and keeping my radio there.
Maybe it was seeing MuteMath live. Maybe it was the Delirious? binge. Maybe it was Toby Mac's new over-produced-but-catchier-than-classic-Newsboys song "Boomin." If you haven't heard 'Boomin' yet, you've got to check it out for it's sheer audacity and attitude.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
New Brew; Jesus Camp
I posted Lonnie's article on Isaac Asimov's view of space on The Brew.
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I viewed one of the most disturbing and possibly enraging films of all times: Jesus Camp.
I had the college group from church over for a movie and discussion night to watch it. A friend said he felt sick after watching it. I was left perplexed, but for a different reason than you might think.
Now, naturally, people wanting to make a documentary about a fiery, flamboyant, and fundamentalist church camp don’t have to look too far for material. There is plenty of naturally disturbing footage that needs nothing added to shock.
But I was a little more distracted by the style and other technical details. The documentary follows three kids who attend camp leader Becky Fischer’s “Kids on Fire Summer Camp.” Though one of the three, a little girl who likes to dance to Christian hardcore music, disappears more as the film progresses. I wondered if she wasn’t vibrant or dramatic enough to merit further inclusion.
The last half of the film follows the other two kids as they listen to a sermon by Ted Haggard at New Life Church in Colorado Springs and then later protest in Washington, D.C. (The filmmakers surely had no idea how damning or ironic their footage of Haggard would become. There is a very interesting response here by the filmmakers to Haggard’s accusation that they had an agenda). At this point, the film seemed to be more about the fundamentalist movement rather than about the camp or Becky Fischer. The praying, singing and protesting in our capital seemed to be the climax rather than kids returning home from camp.
Other segments in the film also rubbed me the wrong way for how they seemed staged. (For an example of documentary staging, watch anything by Michael Moore). A radio talk show featured throughout the film seemed ultra-staged, especially when Fischer called in to try to defend herself.
The first half-hour of the film is sufficient to disturb everyone and also accomplishes what the filmmakers wanted to communicate. The remaining 50 minutes seems to take on a different purpose, or, dare I say, agenda.
I wondered more after watching Camp if any kind of documentary could truly be unbiased. Conceptually, a documentary’s aim is usually just to tape reality as it is, with no agenda. But then, you can’t show an entire fundamentalist church service and would have to do some editing. And it seems that in the editing, the temptation to stage some great shots that would so compliment the service would creep in. And then you get to thinking how you could add in some voice-overs from a different interview or some other clip that might realistically fit in with the original church service. And then you could re-shoot some altar call and tell some little girl to hold out letting go of those tears just a little longer.
Hmmmmmmmm. Stuff to think about.
----------------
I viewed one of the most disturbing and possibly enraging films of all times: Jesus Camp.
I had the college group from church over for a movie and discussion night to watch it. A friend said he felt sick after watching it. I was left perplexed, but for a different reason than you might think.
Now, naturally, people wanting to make a documentary about a fiery, flamboyant, and fundamentalist church camp don’t have to look too far for material. There is plenty of naturally disturbing footage that needs nothing added to shock.
But I was a little more distracted by the style and other technical details. The documentary follows three kids who attend camp leader Becky Fischer’s “Kids on Fire Summer Camp.” Though one of the three, a little girl who likes to dance to Christian hardcore music, disappears more as the film progresses. I wondered if she wasn’t vibrant or dramatic enough to merit further inclusion.
The last half of the film follows the other two kids as they listen to a sermon by Ted Haggard at New Life Church in Colorado Springs and then later protest in Washington, D.C. (The filmmakers surely had no idea how damning or ironic their footage of Haggard would become. There is a very interesting response here by the filmmakers to Haggard’s accusation that they had an agenda). At this point, the film seemed to be more about the fundamentalist movement rather than about the camp or Becky Fischer. The praying, singing and protesting in our capital seemed to be the climax rather than kids returning home from camp.
Other segments in the film also rubbed me the wrong way for how they seemed staged. (For an example of documentary staging, watch anything by Michael Moore). A radio talk show featured throughout the film seemed ultra-staged, especially when Fischer called in to try to defend herself.
The first half-hour of the film is sufficient to disturb everyone and also accomplishes what the filmmakers wanted to communicate. The remaining 50 minutes seems to take on a different purpose, or, dare I say, agenda.
I wondered more after watching Camp if any kind of documentary could truly be unbiased. Conceptually, a documentary’s aim is usually just to tape reality as it is, with no agenda. But then, you can’t show an entire fundamentalist church service and would have to do some editing. And it seems that in the editing, the temptation to stage some great shots that would so compliment the service would creep in. And then you get to thinking how you could add in some voice-overs from a different interview or some other clip that might realistically fit in with the original church service. And then you could re-shoot some altar call and tell some little girl to hold out letting go of those tears just a little longer.
Hmmmmmmmm. Stuff to think about.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
New Brew; Movie Quickies; Disturbing 70s Evangelical Video
I just posted part 2 of Kevin Davis' "The Truth in Words and Spaces" on The Brew.
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Here's some quick reviews on some movies I saw recently.
Spiderman 3 (as can be expected): Good effects. Nutin' else.
Zodiac: Great movie that's more about obsessive people following the case than about the serial killer.
Breach: The most thrilling movie with the least amount of action.
Hot Fuzz: Genius send-up of action movies by the Brits who made Shaun Of The Dead. A must see if only to see Timothy Dalton ( a former Bond) as a grocery store owner.
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Scary evangelical video from some 70s fundamentalist preacher. Be warned: It is disturbing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1paYhEDFQIw
----------------------
Here's some quick reviews on some movies I saw recently.
Spiderman 3 (as can be expected): Good effects. Nutin' else.
Zodiac: Great movie that's more about obsessive people following the case than about the serial killer.
Breach: The most thrilling movie with the least amount of action.
Hot Fuzz: Genius send-up of action movies by the Brits who made Shaun Of The Dead. A must see if only to see Timothy Dalton ( a former Bond) as a grocery store owner.
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Scary evangelical video from some 70s fundamentalist preacher. Be warned: It is disturbing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1paYhEDFQIw
Monday, May 07, 2007
New Brew; MuteMath
I posted two articles on The Brew today. The first is the newest article for May's Space issue: "The Truth in Words and Spaces" by new author Kevin Davis. The second is an article submitted for the April Issue which I somehow completely missed. But with the magic of the Internet and a time machine, I posted the article as it should be: classified under the April Issue with the rest of the 2 x 4 articles. (Or if you want the easy route, it's right here.) It's Lonnie's "Leadership At Work," perfect for anyone who has worked in a cubicle.
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I went to go see MuteMath on Friday so this is the post where I tell you how awesome they are (because they were). The energy the 4-person band han was indescribable.
Frenetic would be an understatement. The lead singer jumped, clapped, and mosched all over the stage. At one point, he did handstands on the piano he was pounding, and then began climbing on the wall of lights at the back of the stage.
The drummer was so animated that he had to duct-tap his headphones onto his head.
Here's a clip that was pretty equivalent to the show I saw (including the breaking of the light wall).
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I went to go see MuteMath on Friday so this is the post where I tell you how awesome they are (because they were). The energy the 4-person band han was indescribable.
Frenetic would be an understatement. The lead singer jumped, clapped, and mosched all over the stage. At one point, he did handstands on the piano he was pounding, and then began climbing on the wall of lights at the back of the stage.
The drummer was so animated that he had to duct-tap his headphones onto his head.
Here's a clip that was pretty equivalent to the show I saw (including the breaking of the light wall).
Thursday, May 03, 2007
New Brew; E-news (without the celeberties)
I just posted "The MySpace-ination of Community" on The Brew by new author Jon Reisinger.
Also posted was the May editorial, which I forgot to link to earlier. The Brew's new look will feature each month's editorial at the top of the page, making it (and the the month's theme) more easily accessible.
-----------------------
I found some very interesting news on how crazy the new online world can be and how even the military is trying to keep up with it.
A Wired story about the military previewing all kinds of electronic transmissions from soldiers on the field.
The Obama campaign conquers a MySpace page originally designed to support the candidate.
Also posted was the May editorial, which I forgot to link to earlier. The Brew's new look will feature each month's editorial at the top of the page, making it (and the the month's theme) more easily accessible.
-----------------------
I found some very interesting news on how crazy the new online world can be and how even the military is trying to keep up with it.
A Wired story about the military previewing all kinds of electronic transmissions from soldiers on the field.
The Obama campaign conquers a MySpace page originally designed to support the candidate.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
New Brew; A Great Satirist
The Coffee Chain That Shall Remain Nameless gets creative in where to place 20,000 more stores in the U.S. on The Brew.
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Since the month of satire on The Brew is coming to a close, I thought I'd post a little something by a great satirist that maybe not be as widely known: Kierkegaard.
Here's some great quips on preaching and proclamation.
"Pastor: You must die to the world -- that will be ten dollars.
Novice: Well, if I must die to the world, renounce all the things of this world, I certainly understand that I will have to put out more than ten dollars for the sake of the cause, but there is just one question: Who gets the ten dollars?
Pastor: I do, of course; it is my wages. After all, I and my family have to make a living you know. It is a very cheap price, and very soon much more will have to be charged. If you are fair, you yourself will understand that it takes a lot out of a man to proclaim that one must die to the world if the proclamation is made with earnestness and zeal. And that is also why it is very necessary for me and my family to spend the summer in the country in order to recuperate."
"The punishment I should like the clergy to have is a tenfold increase in salary. I am afraid that neither the world nor the clergy would understand this punishment."
"A speech expert is just a suitable for proclaiming Christianity as a deaf-mute for being a musician."
-------------------
Since the month of satire on The Brew is coming to a close, I thought I'd post a little something by a great satirist that maybe not be as widely known: Kierkegaard.
Here's some great quips on preaching and proclamation.
"Pastor: You must die to the world -- that will be ten dollars.
Novice: Well, if I must die to the world, renounce all the things of this world, I certainly understand that I will have to put out more than ten dollars for the sake of the cause, but there is just one question: Who gets the ten dollars?
Pastor: I do, of course; it is my wages. After all, I and my family have to make a living you know. It is a very cheap price, and very soon much more will have to be charged. If you are fair, you yourself will understand that it takes a lot out of a man to proclaim that one must die to the world if the proclamation is made with earnestness and zeal. And that is also why it is very necessary for me and my family to spend the summer in the country in order to recuperate."
"The punishment I should like the clergy to have is a tenfold increase in salary. I am afraid that neither the world nor the clergy would understand this punishment."
"A speech expert is just a suitable for proclaiming Christianity as a deaf-mute for being a musician."
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Stuff Worth Reading....
I've found some interesting stuff in the news over the last few weeks.
This is an article suggesting, stock- and business-wise, why The Coffee Chain That Shall Remain Nameless should swallow up Caribou Coffee.
Here's an article looking into that Coffee Chain's current promotions and how it's founder wants to save the company's soul, all the while opening more stores and tripling the store's profits.
Then I found some other news about Christianity's messy relationship with the public, the legal system and prisons.
The Dallas Observer had an article this week about an evangelical prison, somewhat based on Chuck Colson's PFM,in Houston that may be in legal trouble if an Iowa lawsuit goes through.
I saw my roommate reading this article from last year about Dallas mega-church Watermark in legal trouble over a church discipline matter. Here is the most recent update I could find on it.
This is an article suggesting, stock- and business-wise, why The Coffee Chain That Shall Remain Nameless should swallow up Caribou Coffee.
Here's an article looking into that Coffee Chain's current promotions and how it's founder wants to save the company's soul, all the while opening more stores and tripling the store's profits.
Then I found some other news about Christianity's messy relationship with the public, the legal system and prisons.
The Dallas Observer had an article this week about an evangelical prison, somewhat based on Chuck Colson's PFM,in Houston that may be in legal trouble if an Iowa lawsuit goes through.
I saw my roommate reading this article from last year about Dallas mega-church Watermark in legal trouble over a church discipline matter. Here is the most recent update I could find on it.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
New Brew; Word Pictures
A New Method Of Evangelism on The Brew.
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Word Pictures
So I had a pretty sweet road trip and men’s retreat with guys of all ages from my church.
The easiest way to describe it would be to paint some word pictures of the early morning trip to Graceland and then to the Shepherd of the Ozarks retreat center in Arkansas.
Graceland gift shops sold 100% organic, fair trade coffee: the ‘Silent Night’ Decaf blend and Evis’s House blend.
An entire exhibit displayed at least 50 of Elvis’ jumpsuits, ranging from the simple and white to the ‘Red Dragon’ be-jeweled.
A TV room in the Graceland mansion looked as if it was pulled out of the Thunderball or Diamonds Are Forever sets. A living room, entitled the ‘jungle room’, featured tiki chairs, couches and shag carpet on the ceiling.
I had BBQ nachos and a BBQ sandwich Memphis-style (with coleslaw on top) at a place called “Showboat Barbeque.” A chalk menu board in the store featured the daily specials; but all were below the words “Jesus is Lord” written in chalk on the top of the board.
I stayed in a lodge set deep in a valley of the Ozark Mountains, with high cliffs, bluffs and mountains surrounding the cabin. A family of mountain goats walked in and around the cliffs in the evening.
To end a great couple of hours of paintball during the retreat, two guys had an old-fashioned duel. They each took ten steps away from each other, turned and then let rip whatever paintballs they had left.
I went down in flames while trying to play “Heart-Shaped Box” on Guitar Hero for the PS2 during one night of the retreat. I did equally horrible while attempting “Crazy in Love” by Beyonce on Karaoke Hero. I almost redeemed myself while attempting “American Woman” but was booed off of the video game stage.
-----------------
Word Pictures
So I had a pretty sweet road trip and men’s retreat with guys of all ages from my church.
The easiest way to describe it would be to paint some word pictures of the early morning trip to Graceland and then to the Shepherd of the Ozarks retreat center in Arkansas.
Graceland gift shops sold 100% organic, fair trade coffee: the ‘Silent Night’ Decaf blend and Evis’s House blend.
An entire exhibit displayed at least 50 of Elvis’ jumpsuits, ranging from the simple and white to the ‘Red Dragon’ be-jeweled.
A TV room in the Graceland mansion looked as if it was pulled out of the Thunderball or Diamonds Are Forever sets. A living room, entitled the ‘jungle room’, featured tiki chairs, couches and shag carpet on the ceiling.
I had BBQ nachos and a BBQ sandwich Memphis-style (with coleslaw on top) at a place called “Showboat Barbeque.” A chalk menu board in the store featured the daily specials; but all were below the words “Jesus is Lord” written in chalk on the top of the board.
I stayed in a lodge set deep in a valley of the Ozark Mountains, with high cliffs, bluffs and mountains surrounding the cabin. A family of mountain goats walked in and around the cliffs in the evening.
To end a great couple of hours of paintball during the retreat, two guys had an old-fashioned duel. They each took ten steps away from each other, turned and then let rip whatever paintballs they had left.
I went down in flames while trying to play “Heart-Shaped Box” on Guitar Hero for the PS2 during one night of the retreat. I did equally horrible while attempting “Crazy in Love” by Beyonce on Karaoke Hero. I almost redeemed myself while attempting “American Woman” but was booed off of the video game stage.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
New Brew; YouTube Finds; Lent Results
NEW BREW
I just posted Dan Morgan's look at why people should change their vocabulary from Love to Lust on The Brew.
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YOUTUBE FINDS
Found some great stuff on YouTube last night.
Alanis Morrisette's cover of "My Humps." Hilarious.
MadTV skit of The Terminator meeting Jesus.
MadTV skit somehow putting Iraq together with Apple Computers. Pretty creative.
The best of Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons.
--------------------------------
LENT RESULTS
So here’s what happened after my ‘no TV’ Lent.
I finished six books: To Own a Dragon, and Searching For God Knows What by Donald Miller; The Book Of The Dun Cow, and The Book Of Sorrows by Walter Wangerin, Jr.; Blessed Assurance by Randall Balmer; The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson.
I also got out of the habit of passively watching TV (spending most of a Sunday afternoon or a late night channel surfing). I watched the few shows I was truly into (Lost and The Office) but was left slightly wanting after each episode. Neither seemed as good as I remembered them being.
I might go so far as to say the desire to blow some time watching TV went away. Kind of like curing yourself of some bad habit or desire.
A friend told me he began reading Piper’s Future Grace. I read it back in college but was only looking for one certain thing during that time of life (some kind of relief from depression). But Piper’s idea of prizing the pleasure of God so much that you would loose the desire to cling to some lesser thing, say some sin or something, came back to me.
I feel like I kind of did this during the Lent season. It reminded me of how someone can take initiative to improve their faith, their spirituality or their relationship with God. I haven’t done that kind of thing in a while, though I now feel like I can.
So I’m going to re-read Grace and see what happens. Maybe it’ll be another step back into the faith that I’m re-entering.
I just posted Dan Morgan's look at why people should change their vocabulary from Love to Lust on The Brew.
----------------
YOUTUBE FINDS
Found some great stuff on YouTube last night.
Alanis Morrisette's cover of "My Humps." Hilarious.
MadTV skit of The Terminator meeting Jesus.
MadTV skit somehow putting Iraq together with Apple Computers. Pretty creative.
The best of Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons.
--------------------------------
LENT RESULTS
So here’s what happened after my ‘no TV’ Lent.
I finished six books: To Own a Dragon, and Searching For God Knows What by Donald Miller; The Book Of The Dun Cow, and The Book Of Sorrows by Walter Wangerin, Jr.; Blessed Assurance by Randall Balmer; The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson.
I also got out of the habit of passively watching TV (spending most of a Sunday afternoon or a late night channel surfing). I watched the few shows I was truly into (Lost and The Office) but was left slightly wanting after each episode. Neither seemed as good as I remembered them being.
I might go so far as to say the desire to blow some time watching TV went away. Kind of like curing yourself of some bad habit or desire.
A friend told me he began reading Piper’s Future Grace. I read it back in college but was only looking for one certain thing during that time of life (some kind of relief from depression). But Piper’s idea of prizing the pleasure of God so much that you would loose the desire to cling to some lesser thing, say some sin or something, came back to me.
I feel like I kind of did this during the Lent season. It reminded me of how someone can take initiative to improve their faith, their spirituality or their relationship with God. I haven’t done that kind of thing in a while, though I now feel like I can.
So I’m going to re-read Grace and see what happens. Maybe it’ll be another step back into the faith that I’m re-entering.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
New Brew; The Funny Pages
I posted a release about an upcoming Al Gore film on penguins baking in the sun on The Brew.
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Funny Pages
So there was just a lot of funny stuff happening to me lately.
So here’s some of it.
License plates I’ve seen at my church: XRAY MAN; GRUMPZ.
A solution to the Chick-fil-A problem: A friend’s Dad suggested this: Have those Moroccans start wearing turbans when they park in the lot. Have them take pictures of the restaurant when the employees come out. And then say, “Hey, I’ve got to run to the bank. But if my Land Rover starts smoking….Well, never mind.”
I went to check out The Village church in suburban DFW (Dallas/Fort Worth) with a good buddy of mine and his wife. We went to a Mexican restaurant beforehand and ate; and we drank.
I had a Amaretto Meltdown. And I was a little melted afterwards. The drink was more potent than I thought. So I was pretty happy when I sat down in the double-wide chair in The Village sanctuary. The music seemed a little loud and pounding.
A Sonic ad board read: “Loosen your belts. We’ve got double patty melts.”
I saw plastic eggs in an Easter egg hunt painted camouflage and hidden in the grass and bushes.
My church had a dramatic reading of parts of the gospel of John on Good Friday. Naturally, those involved wore all black. A song popped into my head that I didn’t tell anyone about. The song was “Back in Black” by ACDC.
----------------------
Funny Pages
So there was just a lot of funny stuff happening to me lately.
So here’s some of it.
License plates I’ve seen at my church: XRAY MAN; GRUMPZ.
A solution to the Chick-fil-A problem: A friend’s Dad suggested this: Have those Moroccans start wearing turbans when they park in the lot. Have them take pictures of the restaurant when the employees come out. And then say, “Hey, I’ve got to run to the bank. But if my Land Rover starts smoking….Well, never mind.”
I went to check out The Village church in suburban DFW (Dallas/Fort Worth) with a good buddy of mine and his wife. We went to a Mexican restaurant beforehand and ate; and we drank.
I had a Amaretto Meltdown. And I was a little melted afterwards. The drink was more potent than I thought. So I was pretty happy when I sat down in the double-wide chair in The Village sanctuary. The music seemed a little loud and pounding.
A Sonic ad board read: “Loosen your belts. We’ve got double patty melts.”
I saw plastic eggs in an Easter egg hunt painted camouflage and hidden in the grass and bushes.
My church had a dramatic reading of parts of the gospel of John on Good Friday. Naturally, those involved wore all black. A song popped into my head that I didn’t tell anyone about. The song was “Back in Black” by ACDC.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
The Dump....
So I always end up finding lots of interesting crap while I'm online. Here's some of the more stand-out stories.
A Caffeinated Donut.
Time magazine trying to be clever with Albert Mohler when he is diagnosed with cancer.
Rueters reports on a mental health bill working through congress that would make insurance companies add coverage for mental health issues.
Two clowns (no joke) shot dead at a circus in Columbia.
Borat a human rights victim?
The Worst of the Worst Movie Awards on Rotten Tomatoes.
Obama as Christ?
This last one brought back memories for me. A videographer from San Francisco is reportedly 'soon to be released' after being jailed for almost a year on charges of contempt for not releasing a video of a San Fran cop getting injured during an Anarchist Action rally. The video, though long, shows an anarchist's rally in San Fran. The section in question comes towards the end, when a cop has to subdue a protester and someone thrusts what looks like a pole at the officer.
The video brought back memories for me of when I covered a huge anti-war rally in Chicago. This video of the San Fran equivalent is interesting to watch if you've never experienced a protest rally.
Enjoy.
A Caffeinated Donut.
Time magazine trying to be clever with Albert Mohler when he is diagnosed with cancer.
Rueters reports on a mental health bill working through congress that would make insurance companies add coverage for mental health issues.
Two clowns (no joke) shot dead at a circus in Columbia.
Borat a human rights victim?
The Worst of the Worst Movie Awards on Rotten Tomatoes.
Obama as Christ?
This last one brought back memories for me. A videographer from San Francisco is reportedly 'soon to be released' after being jailed for almost a year on charges of contempt for not releasing a video of a San Fran cop getting injured during an Anarchist Action rally. The video, though long, shows an anarchist's rally in San Fran. The section in question comes towards the end, when a cop has to subdue a protester and someone thrusts what looks like a pole at the officer.
The video brought back memories for me of when I covered a huge anti-war rally in Chicago. This video of the San Fran equivalent is interesting to watch if you've never experienced a protest rally.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Depression Series # 9 - Re-Entering The Faith
So this is the final article in my depression series ( got a little sidetracked this past weekend). But this article was originally published in the December issue of The Brew. This probably best describes where I'm at now.
Re-Entering The Faith (Dec. '06)
I recently began rereading a collection of Søren Kierkegaard’s spiritual writings, Provocations. To call it a breath of fresh air wouldn’t do justice to how much of a climax of sorts this has been for my faith.
I haven’t reached the top of some great mountain of affirmation in my faith or received from God an invigorating revelation that would plot out the rest of my life and service to him.
I’ve just realized that it’s probably safe to pick up my faith again after letting it go for a couple of years.
Like many others who struggle with some mental illness, I put my faith aside for a while in order to deal with the issues going on my life. I decided not to think through whether I was a pre-tribulation Calvinist or whether I was following God’s plan for my life. I was just going to exist for a while and see what happened.
After struggling with depression for years, I realized that my faith was part of the problem, and I took steps to fix the problem. Or, more accurately, I stopped taking steps forward in my faith.
There are a myriad of ways that a person’s faith plays a huge role in his or her struggles with depression, bi-polar and obsessive compulsive disorder, or any other of the hundreds of mental illness that exist. People can be imprisoned by an overactive sense of guilt or by a need to perform every task, sometimes repeatedly, perfectly. And some forms of faith only amplify these problems.
So for the last few years, I didn’t do anything to stand out or strive towards some new spiritual goal. I still attended church, but I pretty much sat in the back and didn’t attract too much attention. I didn’t talk to too many people about faith, Christ, spirituality, or, especially, theology. I avoided anything that would make me say or decide something definitive about my faith.
I’ve had many conversations with a professional counselor at a Christian college in Chicago about how he helped students, and employees of the college, to figure out how to fix their problems. In many cases, he suggested that maybe the people should leave the college. I couldn’t believe he suggested this until I realized how similar to the Church is to a Christian college, replete with all the same conflicts, sinners and issues. And then I saw the wisdom in that suggestion.
For some, letting go of their faith involves not attending church anywhere and stopping a relationship with God or even cutting all ties with Christianity. And why not? If someone’s faith is what is causing all the problems, then it would be masochistic to hold on to that which keeps hurting you.
I couldn’t do this, though. Even though my faith was a large part of my struggle with depression, I also knew that it was also, ironically, the solution to it. And the truly masochistic move would be to run away because I would always end in the same place, beaten down, broken and hurt. Nothing I would cling to could fix my depression or my disgust with American Christianity would ever really work or assuage my anger.
So years go by without any major actions or decisions in regards to my faith and things begin to get easier. Counseling helped me sort through issues and my church fed and nurtured me in spite of its apparent failures. The Bible began to make more sense to me; it guided and encouraged my faith. Prayer began to seem less like dropping a coin in a fountain.
My faith in the Church, and more importantly, in Christ’s power to heal and restore us, has grown more solid. I feel a little more comfortable talking about my faith, spirituality and even some theology because it has become more real during my time away from it.
So as I continue to read Kierkegaard, I can not only identify with the existential angst that he so eloquently put into words, but also the hope that faith can truly help fix my mental illness.
“Teach me, oh God, not to torture myself and not to make a martyr of myself in suffocating introspection, but to take a deep and wholesome breath of faith!”
- Søren Kierkegaard
Re-Entering The Faith (Dec. '06)
I recently began rereading a collection of Søren Kierkegaard’s spiritual writings, Provocations. To call it a breath of fresh air wouldn’t do justice to how much of a climax of sorts this has been for my faith.
I haven’t reached the top of some great mountain of affirmation in my faith or received from God an invigorating revelation that would plot out the rest of my life and service to him.
I’ve just realized that it’s probably safe to pick up my faith again after letting it go for a couple of years.
Like many others who struggle with some mental illness, I put my faith aside for a while in order to deal with the issues going on my life. I decided not to think through whether I was a pre-tribulation Calvinist or whether I was following God’s plan for my life. I was just going to exist for a while and see what happened.
After struggling with depression for years, I realized that my faith was part of the problem, and I took steps to fix the problem. Or, more accurately, I stopped taking steps forward in my faith.
There are a myriad of ways that a person’s faith plays a huge role in his or her struggles with depression, bi-polar and obsessive compulsive disorder, or any other of the hundreds of mental illness that exist. People can be imprisoned by an overactive sense of guilt or by a need to perform every task, sometimes repeatedly, perfectly. And some forms of faith only amplify these problems.
So for the last few years, I didn’t do anything to stand out or strive towards some new spiritual goal. I still attended church, but I pretty much sat in the back and didn’t attract too much attention. I didn’t talk to too many people about faith, Christ, spirituality, or, especially, theology. I avoided anything that would make me say or decide something definitive about my faith.
I’ve had many conversations with a professional counselor at a Christian college in Chicago about how he helped students, and employees of the college, to figure out how to fix their problems. In many cases, he suggested that maybe the people should leave the college. I couldn’t believe he suggested this until I realized how similar to the Church is to a Christian college, replete with all the same conflicts, sinners and issues. And then I saw the wisdom in that suggestion.
For some, letting go of their faith involves not attending church anywhere and stopping a relationship with God or even cutting all ties with Christianity. And why not? If someone’s faith is what is causing all the problems, then it would be masochistic to hold on to that which keeps hurting you.
I couldn’t do this, though. Even though my faith was a large part of my struggle with depression, I also knew that it was also, ironically, the solution to it. And the truly masochistic move would be to run away because I would always end in the same place, beaten down, broken and hurt. Nothing I would cling to could fix my depression or my disgust with American Christianity would ever really work or assuage my anger.
So years go by without any major actions or decisions in regards to my faith and things begin to get easier. Counseling helped me sort through issues and my church fed and nurtured me in spite of its apparent failures. The Bible began to make more sense to me; it guided and encouraged my faith. Prayer began to seem less like dropping a coin in a fountain.
My faith in the Church, and more importantly, in Christ’s power to heal and restore us, has grown more solid. I feel a little more comfortable talking about my faith, spirituality and even some theology because it has become more real during my time away from it.
So as I continue to read Kierkegaard, I can not only identify with the existential angst that he so eloquently put into words, but also the hope that faith can truly help fix my mental illness.
“Teach me, oh God, not to torture myself and not to make a martyr of myself in suffocating introspection, but to take a deep and wholesome breath of faith!”
- Søren Kierkegaard
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Flummoxed....
A friend of a friend of my little sister's called me tonight and started crying.
We had talked in the past because she struggled with depression and some other things.
She said she couldn't get a hold of someone else who she usually calls (She had been calling me throughout the week but I hadn't been able to return the call). She then told me she was thinking about killing herself.
I ended up talking to her for around a half hour and doing what I could. I told all these things she was thinking about doing might give her a high or numb her but they wouldn't really help her. I tried to reason with her about stuff that was stressing her out (like finals tomorrow) and how those things weren't as important as her mental health.
I gave her some healthy advice (Go to the emergency room) because I'm not a psychologist and I can only do so much for her. I told her this, but she even admitted to being stubborn and not listening to people trying to help her. (She'd been hospitalized before for some kind of mental illness and would 'never go back because being there made her go more crazy'.)
I told her that I didn't know what else I could do for her if she didn't listen to me. I can't help her like she needs. I told her to call me again if she needed to.
And here's where I'm at with it all: I don't know her well enough to know if this was for real or if it was just to get some attention. I tried not to get emotionally involved (something I'm guessing good counselors do) and stay calm and try to feel her out. I called my sister (someone she kind of knows and is in the geographical vicinity) to see if she knew of someone to check on this girl.
I'm thinking that maybe she wasn't for real. I did what I could to help her and then called others who might be able to help her better.
If you guys want to pray, her name is Shana and she's in Dayton, OH.
Anyone with counseling experience, what's you professional opinion?
We had talked in the past because she struggled with depression and some other things.
She said she couldn't get a hold of someone else who she usually calls (She had been calling me throughout the week but I hadn't been able to return the call). She then told me she was thinking about killing herself.
I ended up talking to her for around a half hour and doing what I could. I told all these things she was thinking about doing might give her a high or numb her but they wouldn't really help her. I tried to reason with her about stuff that was stressing her out (like finals tomorrow) and how those things weren't as important as her mental health.
I gave her some healthy advice (Go to the emergency room) because I'm not a psychologist and I can only do so much for her. I told her this, but she even admitted to being stubborn and not listening to people trying to help her. (She'd been hospitalized before for some kind of mental illness and would 'never go back because being there made her go more crazy'.)
I told her that I didn't know what else I could do for her if she didn't listen to me. I can't help her like she needs. I told her to call me again if she needed to.
And here's where I'm at with it all: I don't know her well enough to know if this was for real or if it was just to get some attention. I tried not to get emotionally involved (something I'm guessing good counselors do) and stay calm and try to feel her out. I called my sister (someone she kind of knows and is in the geographical vicinity) to see if she knew of someone to check on this girl.
I'm thinking that maybe she wasn't for real. I did what I could to help her and then called others who might be able to help her better.
If you guys want to pray, her name is Shana and she's in Dayton, OH.
Anyone with counseling experience, what's you professional opinion?
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Kierkegaard; Depression Series # 8 - Giving Up on Answers...
Kierkegaard on obedience:
"Oh God, teach me so deeply to understand myself that I may understand how utterly impossible it is to be satisfied with the mere fact that I am master of my own destiny, and that there is no satisfaction and joy and happiness for a person except obedience."
On Passion:
"Longing is the umbilical cord of the higher life."
"It is a great question whether those whom God cannot make mad have ever really existed for God."
"Authentic religion has to do with passion, with having passion. Sadly, there are thousands who take a little something out of religion, and then dispassionately "have religion."
- All quotes taken from Provocations ( a best of collection of Kierkegaard's spiritual writings.
-----------------------
Depression Series # 8
Giving Up On Answers And Suspending Judgment
I finished God in the Dark by Os Guiness this week and was humbled and changed. Reading Guiness’ answer to the question of ‘Why, O Lord?’ put something into words that I had been struggling with for a while. It was an idea that helped me deal with the suicide of a friend a year and a half ago.
Clark Stacy killed himself in March of ’05 while I was still a crime reporter in Chicago. Two years prior at Moody, I was his resident assistant but kept up with him after I graduated. I was naturally shocked when I heard the news on my way to work the overnight shift.
During a lull around 2 a.m., I did what I could to corroborate the news. I found online the small newspaper in Tennessee that ran his obituary the day after the suicide. I instantly thought of what I could do to find out more. I could look up the local medical examiner, hospital, or sheriff’s office. A friend had called me to fill me in but any news story had to be corroborated. I had to get the facts myself.
An hour later, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to get any info. Why would anyone from small-town Tennessee talk to some small newswire reporter from Chicago? And if this was a suicide, no one would be talking about it anyway. I considered all the other roadblocks to getting information. I also considered my need to direct a sole reporter to best cover the city for the next 7 hours.
I stopped trying to find answers through reportorial means. Instead, for about two months I turned to the community that he and I used to be part of: Moody Bible Institute. I went to a sort of memorial chapel, talked to his friends still there and then listened to some crazy drama involving professors at MBI and Clark’s parents.
The man who counseled Clark at MBI was just as dumbfounded. I didn’t ask, but the counselor gave me his professional opinion (which I wasn’t going to ask about for obvious reasons). I felt privileged that he told me what he did but I still couldn’t figure out why it all happened.
More months went by and I gave up trying to find answers. My anger burned out and I knew that I would never have the answer that I wanted. I was just going to have to accept that and somewhere in the back of my head, try to accept that God was all that I was taught he was.
And then comes Guiness to tell me this:
“It is difficult to hold an impersonal universe personally responsible, and nothing less than personal responsibility will do. The only remaining option is to call God to the bar and charge him with the injustice of suffering that is otherwise inexplicable. Through doubt we can get even with God.”
So where does that leave me? What am I to do? Believe that God is good?
Guiness told me that “To suspend judgement on why something is happening is not the same as denying that something is happening. The former is faith, the latter is repression, which should have no part in the Christian faith.”
His idea is that you don’t know why but you can know why you trust God who knows why. You suspend judgment of God who knows why.
Guiness concludes by stating that all doubts about the Father are silenced in the Son, to which no suffering can be compared.
There’s not much to say after that.
"Oh God, teach me so deeply to understand myself that I may understand how utterly impossible it is to be satisfied with the mere fact that I am master of my own destiny, and that there is no satisfaction and joy and happiness for a person except obedience."
On Passion:
"Longing is the umbilical cord of the higher life."
"It is a great question whether those whom God cannot make mad have ever really existed for God."
"Authentic religion has to do with passion, with having passion. Sadly, there are thousands who take a little something out of religion, and then dispassionately "have religion."
- All quotes taken from Provocations ( a best of collection of Kierkegaard's spiritual writings.
-----------------------
Depression Series # 8
Giving Up On Answers And Suspending Judgment
I finished God in the Dark by Os Guiness this week and was humbled and changed. Reading Guiness’ answer to the question of ‘Why, O Lord?’ put something into words that I had been struggling with for a while. It was an idea that helped me deal with the suicide of a friend a year and a half ago.
Clark Stacy killed himself in March of ’05 while I was still a crime reporter in Chicago. Two years prior at Moody, I was his resident assistant but kept up with him after I graduated. I was naturally shocked when I heard the news on my way to work the overnight shift.
During a lull around 2 a.m., I did what I could to corroborate the news. I found online the small newspaper in Tennessee that ran his obituary the day after the suicide. I instantly thought of what I could do to find out more. I could look up the local medical examiner, hospital, or sheriff’s office. A friend had called me to fill me in but any news story had to be corroborated. I had to get the facts myself.
An hour later, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to get any info. Why would anyone from small-town Tennessee talk to some small newswire reporter from Chicago? And if this was a suicide, no one would be talking about it anyway. I considered all the other roadblocks to getting information. I also considered my need to direct a sole reporter to best cover the city for the next 7 hours.
I stopped trying to find answers through reportorial means. Instead, for about two months I turned to the community that he and I used to be part of: Moody Bible Institute. I went to a sort of memorial chapel, talked to his friends still there and then listened to some crazy drama involving professors at MBI and Clark’s parents.
The man who counseled Clark at MBI was just as dumbfounded. I didn’t ask, but the counselor gave me his professional opinion (which I wasn’t going to ask about for obvious reasons). I felt privileged that he told me what he did but I still couldn’t figure out why it all happened.
More months went by and I gave up trying to find answers. My anger burned out and I knew that I would never have the answer that I wanted. I was just going to have to accept that and somewhere in the back of my head, try to accept that God was all that I was taught he was.
And then comes Guiness to tell me this:
“It is difficult to hold an impersonal universe personally responsible, and nothing less than personal responsibility will do. The only remaining option is to call God to the bar and charge him with the injustice of suffering that is otherwise inexplicable. Through doubt we can get even with God.”
So where does that leave me? What am I to do? Believe that God is good?
Guiness told me that “To suspend judgement on why something is happening is not the same as denying that something is happening. The former is faith, the latter is repression, which should have no part in the Christian faith.”
His idea is that you don’t know why but you can know why you trust God who knows why. You suspend judgment of God who knows why.
Guiness concludes by stating that all doubts about the Father are silenced in the Son, to which no suffering can be compared.
There’s not much to say after that.
Monday, March 26, 2007
New Brew Link; Coffee Master Threatens Church
I posted a YouTube video of Mark Driscoll speaking on the Emerging/Emergent movements for Desiring God Ministries (which Driscoll classifies as Emerging) on the Culture Tab of The Brew.
----------------
Coffee Master Threatens Church
For the past three months, I have blessed the college class at my church with some potent nourishment to enhance their spiritual lives: a tasty brew from the coffee chain that shall remain nameless. The caffeine and taste of the coffee quickens their minds to better soak in the teachings each week.
However, two deacons from the church are unhappy that out of the many pots of Folgers made each week for the entire congregation’s coffee break, a different kind of coffee is made. When a certain Coffee Master enters the kitchen and asks if he can make a batch from coffee that he brought for the college class, looks of distrust and hissing are thrown his way. This sort of behavior baffles, especially since the lover of coffee leaves his Coffee Master black apron at home, so as not to brag.
In more recent times, other congregants, under the guise of introducing themselves to the Coffee Master (who is about to take his pot of Arabica-based bliss to his college class), have dipped into the blessings meant for the elect. That week, the Coffee Master (CM) had to brew another batch, for the college students were wringing and shaking the coffee pot to the last drop for nourishment.
Vexed CM was speechless another week when a deacon, who goes by the name “Lurch,” attempted to pull a bait and switch with two coffee pots. One contained the liquid that can truly quench the thirst and another contained merely stale, Folgers-smelling air. “Your coffee is ready,” stated Lurch, handing off the odorous coffee pot. CM, noticing the lightness of the pot, looked at Lurch, who, unable to hide his sin, confessed: “I’m just kidding. Here’s the ‘special’ stuff.”
The saga continued this week when CM brought a pound and a half of blessed beans to be used for the entire church. Lurch was in the kitchen when CM dropped off the ground beans. “I brought some beans so everybody can have the ‘special stuff.’
Lurch: (with an insulted and offended look) Starbucks?!
CM: (in the most gracious and forgiving spirit that overlooks any kind of brewing transgression) Yeah. You can use it if you want.
The conversation continued when CM returned to the kitchen during the coffee break between services.
Lurch: People don’t like your stuff.
CM: What are you talking about?
Lurch: I got complaints about your stuff. People say they can see all the way through the coffee. They say it’s like tea. They might as well be drinking tea.
CM: Really?
Lurch: It was just one person that complained. I put one Styrofoam cup full of your stuff in for a full batch (which equals around 15 cups of coffee) and it looks like tea. (Turning to someone currently taking from the wasted batch of flavored water) Do you get any taste out of that? It’s…Starbucks.
Unfortunate Congregate Duped Into Drinking The Dreadful Attempt At Coffee: It’s almost like tea.
CM: (Again, putting on the gracious, forgiving air and not saying how Lurch sabatoged the ‘special stuff’ on purpose because he doesn’t like some young punk kid with a wicked gotee trying to force some non-fair trade coffee into the mist of the chosen) Oh, okay.
Lurch: No one likes the ‘special stuff’ so I’m going back to the good stuff (pointing to the plastic gallon bucket holding the silly robusta-based Folgers).
CM: (Seeing that some indecipherable foreign mixture known as Breakfast Blend was too much of a change for Lurch) Is there a pot ready for me to make some for the college class?
----------------
Coffee Master Threatens Church
For the past three months, I have blessed the college class at my church with some potent nourishment to enhance their spiritual lives: a tasty brew from the coffee chain that shall remain nameless. The caffeine and taste of the coffee quickens their minds to better soak in the teachings each week.
However, two deacons from the church are unhappy that out of the many pots of Folgers made each week for the entire congregation’s coffee break, a different kind of coffee is made. When a certain Coffee Master enters the kitchen and asks if he can make a batch from coffee that he brought for the college class, looks of distrust and hissing are thrown his way. This sort of behavior baffles, especially since the lover of coffee leaves his Coffee Master black apron at home, so as not to brag.
In more recent times, other congregants, under the guise of introducing themselves to the Coffee Master (who is about to take his pot of Arabica-based bliss to his college class), have dipped into the blessings meant for the elect. That week, the Coffee Master (CM) had to brew another batch, for the college students were wringing and shaking the coffee pot to the last drop for nourishment.
Vexed CM was speechless another week when a deacon, who goes by the name “Lurch,” attempted to pull a bait and switch with two coffee pots. One contained the liquid that can truly quench the thirst and another contained merely stale, Folgers-smelling air. “Your coffee is ready,” stated Lurch, handing off the odorous coffee pot. CM, noticing the lightness of the pot, looked at Lurch, who, unable to hide his sin, confessed: “I’m just kidding. Here’s the ‘special’ stuff.”
The saga continued this week when CM brought a pound and a half of blessed beans to be used for the entire church. Lurch was in the kitchen when CM dropped off the ground beans. “I brought some beans so everybody can have the ‘special stuff.’
Lurch: (with an insulted and offended look) Starbucks?!
CM: (in the most gracious and forgiving spirit that overlooks any kind of brewing transgression) Yeah. You can use it if you want.
The conversation continued when CM returned to the kitchen during the coffee break between services.
Lurch: People don’t like your stuff.
CM: What are you talking about?
Lurch: I got complaints about your stuff. People say they can see all the way through the coffee. They say it’s like tea. They might as well be drinking tea.
CM: Really?
Lurch: It was just one person that complained. I put one Styrofoam cup full of your stuff in for a full batch (which equals around 15 cups of coffee) and it looks like tea. (Turning to someone currently taking from the wasted batch of flavored water) Do you get any taste out of that? It’s…Starbucks.
Unfortunate Congregate Duped Into Drinking The Dreadful Attempt At Coffee: It’s almost like tea.
CM: (Again, putting on the gracious, forgiving air and not saying how Lurch sabatoged the ‘special stuff’ on purpose because he doesn’t like some young punk kid with a wicked gotee trying to force some non-fair trade coffee into the mist of the chosen) Oh, okay.
Lurch: No one likes the ‘special stuff’ so I’m going back to the good stuff (pointing to the plastic gallon bucket holding the silly robusta-based Folgers).
CM: (Seeing that some indecipherable foreign mixture known as Breakfast Blend was too much of a change for Lurch) Is there a pot ready for me to make some for the college class?
Friday, March 23, 2007
Chick-fil-A Vol. 2; New Brew; Depression Series # 7
Chick-fil-A Vol. 2
The aforementioned woman from the restaurant beside the coffee chain that shall remain nameless has been reported to have called the corporate office. The corporate office then called the local district manager of the coffee chain, who left an official sign stating that employees could no longer park in the next door lot.
This is the last fact that can be confirmed, though many rumors abound. Some say that the beef-less restaurant will refuse service to coffee chain employees (yet to be confirmed). Others have stated that woman/parking-lot-attendant has stickers/cards that she places on vehicles belonging to coffee employees or customers who park in the lot. The aforementioned Moroccans told said woman what they thought of her asking them to move their cars from the lot (it was said to have involved profanity). Coffee chain customers have been asked by woman while in coffee store or outside at the cafe tables to move their vehicles from the lot.
--------------------------
New Brew
I posted Dan's unromantic look at the Emergent/ing movement on The Brew. It may be a little bawdy for some, but check it out nonetheless.
------------------------------
Depression Series # 7
I wrote this essay recently after reading a great book by Os Guiness, God In The Dark. A great book for anyone who's dealt with doubt or depression.
Remembering
“In keep open lines to the past, the redeemed memory carries encouragement and conveys warnings and lessons to faith as faith is engaged in fighting at the front line of battle that is the present moment.”
-Os Guiness, God in the Dark.
This comes from the third chapter of Guiness’ book, entitled “Forgetting to Remember: Doubt from Ingratitude.” Reading this book has been revolutionary. What’s crazy is that I feel like (and sound like) I did almost eight years ago as I was starting my Bible school education. Every book was mind-shattering and life-altering.
I remember those days and look back fondly on them, though nowadays I’d say I’m very far from them. I don’t long for that pure milk of anything and gasp when some new truth is revealed to me. I more just long to continue on and not be dragged back into a depressed state that finds it’s cure in never-ending entertainment. God is still there and Christ has still saved me; I’m still redeemed and am being regenerated but I don’t quite feel like it. I’m accustoming myself to having feelings again and trying to sort them out after having turned them off.
I realized that my faith somehow keeps going, inspite of everything that I think would shatter it. My struggles with depression, although ongoing, aren’t as crippling as they once were. Five years after I began struggling with it, I see that life has gone on and I’v figured some things out. I’ve become one of those people I knew way back when who inspired me to keep going. I saw them in their darkest times but then later on, I also saw them able to get back to some kind of functioning faith. Somehow, they were able to deal with their depression or whatever other malady and move on. Time and their faith were able to help them grow.
I’ve more than survived the last five years and that’s something I try to remind myself of. I earned a bachelor’s degree and supported myself for going on three years. I was a freakin’ reporter for the Chicago Tribune for a year. Although I didn’t succeed at this and quit after a year, I didn’t let that send running home to Mom and Dad thinking that I couldn’t accomplish anything with my struggles with depression. And now I’ve up and moved to Texas to take a chance on starting a magazine. Who knows what’ll happen next.
The aforementioned woman from the restaurant beside the coffee chain that shall remain nameless has been reported to have called the corporate office. The corporate office then called the local district manager of the coffee chain, who left an official sign stating that employees could no longer park in the next door lot.
This is the last fact that can be confirmed, though many rumors abound. Some say that the beef-less restaurant will refuse service to coffee chain employees (yet to be confirmed). Others have stated that woman/parking-lot-attendant has stickers/cards that she places on vehicles belonging to coffee employees or customers who park in the lot. The aforementioned Moroccans told said woman what they thought of her asking them to move their cars from the lot (it was said to have involved profanity). Coffee chain customers have been asked by woman while in coffee store or outside at the cafe tables to move their vehicles from the lot.
--------------------------
New Brew
I posted Dan's unromantic look at the Emergent/ing movement on The Brew. It may be a little bawdy for some, but check it out nonetheless.
------------------------------
Depression Series # 7
I wrote this essay recently after reading a great book by Os Guiness, God In The Dark. A great book for anyone who's dealt with doubt or depression.
Remembering
“In keep open lines to the past, the redeemed memory carries encouragement and conveys warnings and lessons to faith as faith is engaged in fighting at the front line of battle that is the present moment.”
-Os Guiness, God in the Dark.
This comes from the third chapter of Guiness’ book, entitled “Forgetting to Remember: Doubt from Ingratitude.” Reading this book has been revolutionary. What’s crazy is that I feel like (and sound like) I did almost eight years ago as I was starting my Bible school education. Every book was mind-shattering and life-altering.
I remember those days and look back fondly on them, though nowadays I’d say I’m very far from them. I don’t long for that pure milk of anything and gasp when some new truth is revealed to me. I more just long to continue on and not be dragged back into a depressed state that finds it’s cure in never-ending entertainment. God is still there and Christ has still saved me; I’m still redeemed and am being regenerated but I don’t quite feel like it. I’m accustoming myself to having feelings again and trying to sort them out after having turned them off.
I realized that my faith somehow keeps going, inspite of everything that I think would shatter it. My struggles with depression, although ongoing, aren’t as crippling as they once were. Five years after I began struggling with it, I see that life has gone on and I’v figured some things out. I’ve become one of those people I knew way back when who inspired me to keep going. I saw them in their darkest times but then later on, I also saw them able to get back to some kind of functioning faith. Somehow, they were able to deal with their depression or whatever other malady and move on. Time and their faith were able to help them grow.
I’ve more than survived the last five years and that’s something I try to remind myself of. I earned a bachelor’s degree and supported myself for going on three years. I was a freakin’ reporter for the Chicago Tribune for a year. Although I didn’t succeed at this and quit after a year, I didn’t let that send running home to Mom and Dad thinking that I couldn’t accomplish anything with my struggles with depression. And now I’ve up and moved to Texas to take a chance on starting a magazine. Who knows what’ll happen next.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Depression Series # 6 - Adaptation
Here's something that is kind of about depression but is more about adaptation. I wrote this last winter while still in Chicago.
Adaptation
“The high for today will be about 42 degrees. It’s currently 41 and you’re listening to…” broadcast the radio station at around 4:15 a.m a few days ago. This was the beginning of January for Chicagoans; a mild streak of weather in what can often be the harshest season for this Midwest giant of a city. Business this week was back to booming at the coffee-chain-that-shall-remain nameless. More people were out and braving the Icelandic 40 degree temperatures and even buying frozen and iced drinks (much to the chagrin of my co-workers). People were enjoying the atypical weather.
But not two weeks earlier the city was crippled during the evening rush hour by a furious snow storm that unceremoniously dumped at least 8 inches of powder in about four hours. From about 4 p.m. on, blustery winds and blinding snow delayed commuters on their way home. Some driving home on the Eisenhower Expressway reported a four-hour commute that night. I drove downtown to pick up something from my store that night but ended up staying downtown because of the traffic and storm.
Like all who live in this great city, I had to adapt and change my plans for that night. I had planned on going back to my apartment on the northwest side and accomplishing some things that night. But an estimated three-hour tour home on Lake Shore Drive convinced me to stick it out where I was. So I decided to call some friends who were close by and catch a movie. It’s not like I would be going anywhere soon so I adapted to the situation.
Adaptation seems essential to anyone’s life, since nothing ever goes as planned (And even if it does, one must still adapt to things going better than planned). Your checking account is overdrawn; you have to adjust your spending and finagle a plan to correct your account. You figure out that the profession you studied in school is not necessarily what you can succeed at doing. God deals you some kind of malady that cripples your body, mind or confidence. So what do you do? You learn to adapt.
Why? I adapt because I’ve seen what happens to those who can’t. Some revert back to some remedial stage of life and take some dead end job that has no hint of challenging them. Or they give up on using the gifts that God has endowed them with and accept something lesser. Or sometimes they feel it better to take their own life. And while I can understand how someone could get to such a place in life, I am enraged when I see such a situation. I am enraged at God for letting such a thing happen and I am enraged for whatever other reason I can assign for a suicide. Even if I know that these reasons are nothing more than me grasping at straws to try understand something that is incomprehensible.
So many people I know get used to some kind of support system and rely completely on that system, whether they know it or not. And then when they graduate from that stage of life and move out of a certain environment, they feel like they’re drowning because they don’t know how to sustain themselves without that old environment. Sometimes the solution is to just keep treading water. Eventually, the person may be able to see their situation and learn a stroke that will help them to swim on to the next stage of life.
But sometimes the best adaptation to a situation is to stop treading water. Some people need to be brought to the end of their own ability and begin sinking down into the water. Getting to such a point leaves a person one option: hope that something outside of themselves can help save their life. As they sink further under the surface and the water seems to get darker, a person can look to God and pray for some miracle. And then the person begins to feel a strange sensation on the sides of their neck, much like Harry Potter while in an underwater game in the most current installment of that series.
Something begins growing out of their neck and they can’t help but suck in the water that is pressing all around them. Gills appear on their neck and then they open wide their mouths against all their instincts and fill their lungs with water. They slowly begin sucking in water and their lungs somehow grab the oxygen out of the water and keep it flowing through their veins.
An adaptation has occurred that enables a person to move on with their life to whatever new plans God has for them. They have survived what seemed an impossible situation and are amazed at the way God changed them for this new stage of life.
Adaptation
“The high for today will be about 42 degrees. It’s currently 41 and you’re listening to…” broadcast the radio station at around 4:15 a.m a few days ago. This was the beginning of January for Chicagoans; a mild streak of weather in what can often be the harshest season for this Midwest giant of a city. Business this week was back to booming at the coffee-chain-that-shall-remain nameless. More people were out and braving the Icelandic 40 degree temperatures and even buying frozen and iced drinks (much to the chagrin of my co-workers). People were enjoying the atypical weather.
But not two weeks earlier the city was crippled during the evening rush hour by a furious snow storm that unceremoniously dumped at least 8 inches of powder in about four hours. From about 4 p.m. on, blustery winds and blinding snow delayed commuters on their way home. Some driving home on the Eisenhower Expressway reported a four-hour commute that night. I drove downtown to pick up something from my store that night but ended up staying downtown because of the traffic and storm.
Like all who live in this great city, I had to adapt and change my plans for that night. I had planned on going back to my apartment on the northwest side and accomplishing some things that night. But an estimated three-hour tour home on Lake Shore Drive convinced me to stick it out where I was. So I decided to call some friends who were close by and catch a movie. It’s not like I would be going anywhere soon so I adapted to the situation.
Adaptation seems essential to anyone’s life, since nothing ever goes as planned (And even if it does, one must still adapt to things going better than planned). Your checking account is overdrawn; you have to adjust your spending and finagle a plan to correct your account. You figure out that the profession you studied in school is not necessarily what you can succeed at doing. God deals you some kind of malady that cripples your body, mind or confidence. So what do you do? You learn to adapt.
Why? I adapt because I’ve seen what happens to those who can’t. Some revert back to some remedial stage of life and take some dead end job that has no hint of challenging them. Or they give up on using the gifts that God has endowed them with and accept something lesser. Or sometimes they feel it better to take their own life. And while I can understand how someone could get to such a place in life, I am enraged when I see such a situation. I am enraged at God for letting such a thing happen and I am enraged for whatever other reason I can assign for a suicide. Even if I know that these reasons are nothing more than me grasping at straws to try understand something that is incomprehensible.
So many people I know get used to some kind of support system and rely completely on that system, whether they know it or not. And then when they graduate from that stage of life and move out of a certain environment, they feel like they’re drowning because they don’t know how to sustain themselves without that old environment. Sometimes the solution is to just keep treading water. Eventually, the person may be able to see their situation and learn a stroke that will help them to swim on to the next stage of life.
But sometimes the best adaptation to a situation is to stop treading water. Some people need to be brought to the end of their own ability and begin sinking down into the water. Getting to such a point leaves a person one option: hope that something outside of themselves can help save their life. As they sink further under the surface and the water seems to get darker, a person can look to God and pray for some miracle. And then the person begins to feel a strange sensation on the sides of their neck, much like Harry Potter while in an underwater game in the most current installment of that series.
Something begins growing out of their neck and they can’t help but suck in the water that is pressing all around them. Gills appear on their neck and then they open wide their mouths against all their instincts and fill their lungs with water. They slowly begin sucking in water and their lungs somehow grab the oxygen out of the water and keep it flowing through their veins.
An adaptation has occurred that enables a person to move on with their life to whatever new plans God has for them. They have survived what seemed an impossible situation and are amazed at the way God changed them for this new stage of life.
Monday, March 19, 2007
New Brew; Dallas Drama ( Not that old TV show that no one remembers)
I posted Lonnie's article on Emergents getting away from Enlightenment-influenced faith. Check it out. The Brew.
----------------------------
Thus begins the long saga known as "The Parking Wars Between Chick-fil-A and The Coffee Chain That Shall Remain Nameless."
One employee of that coffee chain parked near a side door of his store, which happens to be in the side lot of an oft-smelled Chick-Fil-A restaurant. On some night last week, this employee was asked by a woman (who is most likely the wife of the owner/operator) to move his car out of the restaurant parking lot, which is for employees and customers of the restaurant. Said woman then described a violent and noisy exit by coffee chain employee into the coffee chain's parking lot two hundred feet away. (There is not signage in either parking lot that specifies any spot is reserved for either establishment.)
This same employee parked in this disputed spot again during his Saturday night shift. The aforementioned woman enters the coffee chain and then explains the previous incident to me. "I'll let it go this time," states said woman, who continues on into explaining why the parking spot (one of about ten) is for customers, etc., ad infinitum, ad nauseum.
Another employee of the coffee chain overhears the conversation and proceeds to move his car next to the previous employee's car in the controversial parking lot during his meal break. Not being able to contain himself at his feat of defiance, the second employee tells me, the supervisor for this shift, of his ingenious move. Supervisor laughs hard, but then shakes his head.
Authoritative woman then talks to the Johnny-Come-Lately about moving his car into the parking lot. Employee, having purchased foodstuffs from the restaurant in the past, responds by saying, "I'm a paying customer." "Save your receipt," says woman.
Some regular customers (Native Moroccans who are associated with a Mediterranean restaurant across the street) come to the coffee shop for their nightly card game and also park in the prized lot.
Woman confronts me while I am outside washing down outdoor cafe tables. "Is that your Land Rover over there?" I, the most professional and mature supervisor, responds with: " No. I drive a Hyundai."
"Did you know that your other employee parked his car in the lot after I already talked to you about the first employee?"
Again, mature supervisor responds with a genuine, though put on, surprised look and words: "He did? Well..."
"I see how things are," woman interrupts me and then walks back to the restaurant with an aversion to beef.
About an hour later, a red truck (later discovered to be the owner/operator's) is parked directly behind the two vehicles driven by the coffee chain employees, effectively blocking them in (but also resting in a fire lane area which can be towed after a call to the city's non-emergency number).
No more interchanges occurred and the restaurant, not being the sinful night owls that us coffee employees are, could not wait for us to close; all employees, including the owner/driver-of-erroneously-parked-red-truck, had gone home by 11:30 p.m. leaving all of North Dallas the ability to park in the debatable lot.
Coffee supervisor conversed with store manager by phone after unfolding drama and was instructed to post a sign. It reads to this day: "Do not park in Chick-filla's (et.) lot anymore." - Store manager (except on Sundays)
----------------------------
Thus begins the long saga known as "The Parking Wars Between Chick-fil-A and The Coffee Chain That Shall Remain Nameless."
One employee of that coffee chain parked near a side door of his store, which happens to be in the side lot of an oft-smelled Chick-Fil-A restaurant. On some night last week, this employee was asked by a woman (who is most likely the wife of the owner/operator) to move his car out of the restaurant parking lot, which is for employees and customers of the restaurant. Said woman then described a violent and noisy exit by coffee chain employee into the coffee chain's parking lot two hundred feet away. (There is not signage in either parking lot that specifies any spot is reserved for either establishment.)
This same employee parked in this disputed spot again during his Saturday night shift. The aforementioned woman enters the coffee chain and then explains the previous incident to me. "I'll let it go this time," states said woman, who continues on into explaining why the parking spot (one of about ten) is for customers, etc., ad infinitum, ad nauseum.
Another employee of the coffee chain overhears the conversation and proceeds to move his car next to the previous employee's car in the controversial parking lot during his meal break. Not being able to contain himself at his feat of defiance, the second employee tells me, the supervisor for this shift, of his ingenious move. Supervisor laughs hard, but then shakes his head.
Authoritative woman then talks to the Johnny-Come-Lately about moving his car into the parking lot. Employee, having purchased foodstuffs from the restaurant in the past, responds by saying, "I'm a paying customer." "Save your receipt," says woman.
Some regular customers (Native Moroccans who are associated with a Mediterranean restaurant across the street) come to the coffee shop for their nightly card game and also park in the prized lot.
Woman confronts me while I am outside washing down outdoor cafe tables. "Is that your Land Rover over there?" I, the most professional and mature supervisor, responds with: " No. I drive a Hyundai."
"Did you know that your other employee parked his car in the lot after I already talked to you about the first employee?"
Again, mature supervisor responds with a genuine, though put on, surprised look and words: "He did? Well..."
"I see how things are," woman interrupts me and then walks back to the restaurant with an aversion to beef.
About an hour later, a red truck (later discovered to be the owner/operator's) is parked directly behind the two vehicles driven by the coffee chain employees, effectively blocking them in (but also resting in a fire lane area which can be towed after a call to the city's non-emergency number).
No more interchanges occurred and the restaurant, not being the sinful night owls that us coffee employees are, could not wait for us to close; all employees, including the owner/driver-of-erroneously-parked-red-truck, had gone home by 11:30 p.m. leaving all of North Dallas the ability to park in the debatable lot.
Coffee supervisor conversed with store manager by phone after unfolding drama and was instructed to post a sign. It reads to this day: "Do not park in Chick-filla's (et.) lot anymore." - Store manager (except on Sundays)
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Survey says...
One thing they didn't cover in this survey is whether or not I'm narcissistic.
| 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 | ||
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.
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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.
-----
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
---------------------
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.
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.
---------------------
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.
---------------------
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.
------------
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."
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.
----------
Watched the painfully funny Series 2 of the Office this week. Sometimes the British-isms still needed translation but the awkwardness never does.
-----
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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