How could I have missed this?

I really enjoy public speaking as long as I'm there willingly (giving speeches and reports at school that I'm not really excited about, that sucks). I have spoken once to about fifty people on the subject of friendship, depression and God, and I've led many "Sunday Schools'" even though I am only seventeen (who said age means anything?). One of my dreams, as you know, is to start a church. Another dream I have is to be a public speaker whose messages really touch people and push them to love God and love others more. Basically a more relevant, remix Billy Graham, maybe somewhere along the lines of Louie Giglio.

One of the greatest fears - as well as concerns - I've had to deal with is "will people listen?" I have been fearful of people just falling asleep, not listening, letting their minds wander. I've dealt with the question, "Will they listen? Will it be interesting?" I've been through enough four-point, explain-the-Scripture lessons/messages - in the student's chair as well as behind the podium - to know they aren't always the best. Heck, let's admit it. They are boring, dry, most often lifeless. In my humble opinion.

I have been reading the Gospels, right now Matthew, and I find that Jesus doesn't have any four-point messages. Anywhere. His messages are filled with analogies, comparisons, metaphors, and mostly stories. How could I have missed this? Jesus never gives a four-point message, so why do we? Jesus doesn't just explain Scripture; he lives it out and speaks about it through stories. Why do so many four-point messages get saturated in small stories? Because the stories are like candy through a boring movie. It keeps you awake.

My question, then, is why don't we do away with the four-point messages, the let's-talk-about-John-3:16, and just start telling stories. Speaking from the pulpit about life experiences, stories we've heard, fables and fiction, and like Jesus did, interweave it with eternal truths, new lights on difficult subjects, and a passion to go out and just live with God?

How could I have missed this?

How could we have missed this?

It's over. I am very thankful. Christmas is fun and all, but I can really only take so many countless days of Christmas music. I wager I'll be spending the next few days of my vacation working and spending good, laughing, high-quality time with my friends. Life is sliding back to normalcy, and oh! how wonderful that is.

Christmas Memories 2004

This Christmas was very exciting. Delicious food, exciting Texas Hold 'em, and finally I've gotten a zippo. It is very nice. I also have some money to buy the two Dallas Willard books I haven't yet got, "The Divine Conspiracy" and "Renovation of the Heart."

As Jared and I were driving through the cold streets of Lexington, I reminisced how Pat, Chris and I did a spin and slammed into a curb a week ago. We were all ashen and petrified; it was complete silence as the Jeep swung around and bashed backwards into the curb, right next to Flavor's Eatery in Olde Springboro.

It was here in Lexington, when I had just gotten my permit (it was, I believe, this time of year, probably January sometime) and I was driving through the streets with my Aunt Teri. I didn't know about defrost (yeah, that was dumb) and I figured, "I'll wait it out... We're almost there." Aunt Teri didn't notice. I stopped at a stop sign before turning left at a four-lane road. I couldn't see, but I said, "Hope they're defrost is working, because mine's not. Hopefully they'll stop... But it's nighttime, so there shouldn't be too many cars..." I swerved onto the road, seeing only frost on the windshield, and turned left. Everything was cool. Aunt Teri started harassing me about the idiocy when twin headlights flashed in the windshield. Aunt Teri screamed, "You're going the wrong way! Turn around!" I hit the brakes, threw it in reverse, tried to turn, but I reversed right onto the median. It was hectic driving to turn and get in the right lane before we got smashed. Then on our way into the subdivision, I ramped the median and almost flew into the trees. Boy, what fun. The good old days :-).

Aunt Teri always bought her stuff from the shopping network. I got a paper clip and a cloth tool set last year. My cousins, in college, got pots and pans, a bunt bread maker, and a pot warmer. Such deals, Aunt Teri said. She's awesome.

When I was little, my mom's side of the family got together and started exchanging presents. Uncle Bill and my dad had hid mine as a joke. Grandpa said, "Everyone got theirs?" Everyone looked around and said, "Yes!" I started crying. I think it might have scarred me, as I am very afraid of rejection nowadays :-). It was a very devastating experience. But if it wasn't me, it would've been funny.

My friends in Springboro are bathed in thirteen inches of snow. Doug is celebrating Christmas on the sandy beaches of Florida. And I'm here in Kentucky this brilliant Christmas morning, where I can see the grass, but everything else is covered in ice. The sun shines over the woodlands, sparkling over every tree branch in an angelic snare of ice, it's like looking at a picture from Heaven. It's so beautiful.

I wish everyone a merry Christmas. May you enjoy your Christmas as much as I, spending fun time with family and friends.

Doogie and I have been spending a lot of time together. He sleeps in my bed with me at night, and he eats his bones with me in my room. We got a little bored of the house so we went outside. He kept tripping in the snow and he got so cold he refused to move, just kept shaking his little paws and bobbing his head, so I dragged him on inside.

I've had a lot of time to just sit down, relax, and contemplate. Some of my contemplating today took a tour de force into a two hour power snooze. But that's beside the point. I've always considered myself a very contemplative guy. No matter where I am or what I'm doing my mind is always spinning complex webs of ideas and theories and conversations with myself. That last part might be a little too weird for blog. A lot of the contemplating has turned to the wide and mysterious realm of what does it really mean to follow Jesus?

So many people have different views on what this really means. I have been exploring this over the last few months, really, through reading books, the Bible, worship and prayer, and conversations with friends who have a lot of ideas and advice on this subject, such as Jeff, Mike and Doug.

I am reading a book called Following Jesus, and am reading the book of Matthew, with lots of emphasis on the Sermon on the Mount. I hope to discover what following Jesus is really all about, and live it out at home, work, at school, with friends and strangers.

Christmas 2004... 3 days early

Twelve inches, I think, fell all over our town last night, and everywhere else as well. It is really very beautiful. When I woke up, it was just a flurry or two, but by eleven o'clock, the roads were a mess and the snow just kept coming. A friend of mine drove to Northmont and it took him three hours; he was freaked because he kept seeing cars going off the road. Driving, in other words, is fun in this wild weather.

I spent most of the day at Chris and Lee's, and Pat D. was there. We watched the Russel Crowe movie, Master and Commander, ate Smart-Pop popcorn for lunch, and when we went outside for a snow fight, Pat D. grabbed a shovel and was throwing snow in my face over and over. Chris and Lee did the same with snowballs, and I went insane on Lee, driving him into the sidewalk. He rose kicking and another shovel-full of snow blasted me in the face so I ran inside. We finished it off with Perfect Dark.

Dad fixed spaghetti and garlic bread for our Christmas feast. We celebrated Christmas tonight because our next few days are crowded, and we'll be out of town Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I am very happy about two new Message bibles I got, a Rome strategy guide (hehe), and even a dinosaur lamp :-). One thing I really wanted but didn't get is wireless internet for my room. Dad kept telling me he was giving it to me for Christmas but it wasn't there. I was really excited about it. Oh well.

It's still snowing.

Dylan came over after school. We ate chicken and rice soup for supper, and he polished his off with a bowl of ice cream. He and Ams commenced to hurl hair gel in my hair, and I got back at them. Amanda was shrieking and Dylan was hacking in the bathroom. Such good times. I love those guys.

Dad made a joke, "Let's open a gift tonight," and since it was the fourth time he said it, we had vowed he'd have to honor it. Mom was just shaking her head, and Ams said, "But you promised! Next time he said it we were supposed to open presents!" I added, "Your steely resolve is falling apart. I can't trust anything you say anymore." She succumbed after those words, and I was muching a Christmas tree of Ferrero Rochers before Mike Box swung by.

Mike and I went to Starbucks, drinking coffee and talking about God, postmodernism, modernism, college and life. He is in the process of writing a possible book, and it sounds really interesting. For you bloggers who've been into his blog, you know he's been considering this for some time now. He has connections to push it through and get it "out there," and it would be so awesome if he were to accomplish this. So we shared laughs and stories and insights and discoveries in our journeys, and he is letting me borrow some very interesting books that I plan to dive into over Christmas Break (it is here! Hallelujah! Yes!).

I hope you all enjoy the new picture on the sidebar. The candles were nice, but I tried to add some festive Christmas cheer. It's Doogie. I hope you like him. He's my little Eisenhower.

The A Beautiful Mind theme is playing over and over in my head. Awesome movie. True story.

I've been reading the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew, and many of my preconceived notions of what this sermon really is have been blown out of the water. On so many levels I didn't know existed, this traditionally praised and sacred sermon isn't that much of a sermon at all. If you look at the beginning of chapter 5, you see Jesus isn't speaking to the multitudes. He's speaking right to his passionate followers. So right then and there I realized that the infamous sermon may not be the list of do's and don't's I've always imagined it to be.

Most people assume that Jesus is preaching on how we should act, how we should run our lives, but I don't think that's the case. Now, I could be wrong (can't we all???) and these are just musings, but I actually think Jesus is telling his followers how to spot a true disciple. A real disciple of Jesus will embody all the qualities, atttitudes, and behaviors Jesus mentions. The Sermon on the Mount flows from a genuine heart of a person running after God.

I'm drugged up, so my back is fine. I just feel like puking. Oh well. I'm just glad my back isn't sweltering in pain anymore.

I only got two hours of sleep last night. The pain in my back is immense. Undescribable. Several times I awoke nearly crying out in pain. If I stayed in any position longer than ten minutes, it started to ache. So I slept in dashed 5-7 minute blurps, if lucky. I got the day off school because it hurts so much to sit down, and that's what school is, anyways, right? I figure now is a good time to miss school. These last two days are screw-off days, so I can afford to miss one (or two :-)). I'm not a big fan of public education. Private, now, that's a different story. And I love the idea of career centers. Mom took me to the doctor's, and he said just to take some medicine and take it easy. It's probably sprained. Either from exercising too much or Chris Williams jumping on top of me for a video we filmed.

As I lay in bed last night, I pondered how we take so many things for granted. When I have a cancer sore, I say, "When it's gone, I'll never take it for granted again." But then two days later I am! The same holds true with all kinds of sicknesses and aches and pains. Headaches, jawaches, toothaches. You name it, we've all seen it, and all of us think, "I always take it for granted, being healthy and feeling normal." So right now I'm wondering why I take a fully-functioning back granted, but I know in a few days, when the torn muscle has recalibrated, this will be but a dream, and I'll take it for granted.

Pat D., Chris Williams and I feasted once more at China Cottage, enjoying every morsel. I didn't eat very much, though, giving some of my food to Pat - I know Chinese food is the worst for you, no matter which way you look at it.

We spent the rest of the day filming a video project on Jeff Sutton's camera (it really stinks), and somewhere along the line a muscle in my back contorted and now I can't bend forward and back and it just hurts sitting here. Oh well. What can you do? Perhaps this will give me time to read my two new books:

We went to Borders where I bought Emerson's essays, and Walden by Henry David Thoreau. I've always wanted to read their works, and when I saw how cheap they were online, I couldn't resist running over there and yanking them off the shelf.

Two days of school.
No work next week.
Relaxation and wonder.

If my back didn't hurt so much, it would be a lot funner :-).

Now I have to drive Pat and Chris home. So bye.

This happened a long time ago (well, a few months), and it's become a kind of joke amongst me and my friends. It is true, I tell you, every bit of it. This happened the night I returned from the summer's Crank's Creek Missions Trip:

I was in the habit of going on runs for exercise, and this night I suited up and went outside. I began running, and as I ran up one of the streets at ten thirty at night, a little car pulled up and a woman got out. She walked up to me. I thought she’d be asking for directions, but she told me, “We’re having a scavenger hunt and we need a good-looking boy to sing a song for us. We just need you to get in the car.” I knew something was up because she was forty years old, it was ten-thirty at night, she called me good-looking :-), and also—by the way—she was hiding something behind her back. I knew what was up. No explanation needed. “Do you want to come?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. She began to move the arm from around her back, when suddenly her beaming face—cheery to build up confidence in kids—fell to a look of fear. She stumbled back to get in the car and I seized the moment and ran up through the backyards of houses. I hit a street again on my sprint for home, and the car pulled up again.

Now the passenger’s side door and the front door opened, and I knew they were getting out; but they slammed their doors and gunned down the road for no reason at all. I warned the neighbors, called the cops, and God told me, “I sent you out there because there were a lot of little kids running around. They needed to be warned. You saved a kid tonight.” Then he added, “When things got hairy, I protected you.”

I know none of you were there—because I was alone—but if you had seen the woman’s face the first time she tried to pick me up, you would’ve known something frightened her. Maybe God put fear in her heart? When she and the driver prepared to pick me up again, something frightened them so bad they gunned away down the road. When I got inside, I opened up my Bible and read,

“For the angel of the Lord guards all who fear

him,

and he rescues them.”

- Psalm 34:7, New Living Translation

so life continues...

Dylan came over yesterday and we ate tuna sandwiches and new potatoes. He played on my computer while I phoned my friends and did the If you'd like to make a call... impression over the phone. I fooled Chris Williams. Tyler might have been coming over, but he never showed. Dylan left for a choir concert with his girlfriend, and Tyler made an appearance there, too (Kristen's a good singer),

After Dylan left I went over to Chris' house. Pat Dewenter was there and he let me have his copy of the Mel Gibson movie Ransom. I think it's one of the best Mel Gibson movies out there. I think it is even better than Braveheart and Payback. We went to the Dayton Mall, where we browsed such popular stores as and Hot Topics and Spencer's Gifts. Needless to say, I did not fit in there. We also checked out two really cool stores, Nirvana and Dragon Gifts (or something like that). I felt right at home in B. Dalton's.

Mom, Amanda and Ashlie have left for Kentucky. I am here with my dad all weekend, but am very thankful I have today off work. Dad and I are going to go out to eat. Where, who knows? He picks tonight. Probably Skyline Chili or something like that (I always scream like a little child, China Cottage! China Cottage! Gosh, I'm a freak). Then maybe Dylan will come over. After 8-3 tomorrow, it should be a fun day. I am filming a movie for a project at school, and Chris, Lee and supposedly Tyler are going to be involved. Though I doubt Tyler will make it. He spends every ten seconds with his sweetheart :-).

I have taken the advice of Doug and really honed in on eating right. I did an online iVillage health calculator, discovering I need 2558 calories a day for maximum performance. I also discovered that I am shaped like an apple - how did they figure that one out? - and lo! and behold they are right. I received good news - news that I've known for quite some time - that I am not overweight, and not underweight. A far cry from this time last year (obese at 210 pounds and counting...). Enough of glorifying my well-deserved achievments (summer sometimes felt like boot camp).

dreams

Mr. Porter in English asked us what we see ourselves doing in the future.

A friend of mine told me that I need to dream big, because only big dreamers really make it big. Most of my high school career has been marked by one dream: the dream to plant a church. This is a calling that runs thicker than the blood in my veins.

I have been privileged to be a close friend to someone who has actually planted two churches in the southwest Ohio area, both of which are running strong. While I have read many books on starting churches, on relevant churches, books on how to keep focus through the trials of church building, nothing serves me better than my conversations with this friend. He has shown me firsthand the difficulties and joys of starting a church, and he has revealed the mistakes and errors one can hopefully avoid in beginning a new church.

I wish to start a postmodern church that is open-minded, accepting, and willing to dive into spiritual issues. I want to start a church that accepts the social pariahs, the homosexuals, the worst of the worst, and accept them with genuine love and a desire for spiritual friendship. I want to start a church that isn’t bigoted, brainwashing, condemning or judgmental.

I am fortunate in the fact that I belong to a church that, while it isn't postmodern, is very open-minded, accepting and loving. The leaders are bare and naked with their passion for God and His Kingdom, and we all do a pretty good job of not excluding anyone. There is always a warm air of love and acceptance, even though it's held in a YMCA gymnasium :-), and those at Southwest are on a journey into the wild and wonderful world of postmodernism as well. I am also fortunate to have experienced New Life, a small, New Testament-style, postmodern church, where the leaders are passionate and loving, as is the congregation. Both of these churches have driven me closer to God in so many ways, and I wish to model aspects of both when I begin my own church. Southwest and New Life are the biggest families I have :-).

Jesus’ message of hope, life, love, and peace is the driving force and single passion of my life.

what's going on?

This is for Doug Hill or Tom Planck, or heck, anyone who's ever been on a lifestyle change for the better. I've been eating so good the last two weeks, and everything's been great. I've kept losing weight. But then, all of a sudden, for no reason, it started creeping back up. I haven't been splurging or anything. I've been eating all the right portions at all the right times and all the right nutrition. Over the last week the pounds have slowly crept up. I was wondering if anyone has any advice?

I need to go to school. I work 3-8 today so this will probably be the only post today.

I really haven't written much because things have been kind of boring over the last two days. We had the 412 Christmas party and that was great fun. Chris and I thought it would've been funny to put a bunch of baking flour in a gift and leave a note that said Praise Allah on it. How's the war against terrorism doing, anyways? Haven't heard a whole lot about it ever since Iraqis have been fighting back (and why shouldn't they? we invaded them, don't forget - why do we call patriotic Iraqis infidels? Hmmm...)

Monday and most of today has been spent at school, fiddling with Rome, and sleeping. I was so bored I went to bed last night at 7:00. Dylan couldn't come over yesterday, so all my plans fell through, and I didn't have enough gas to drive to Centerville and hang out with my friend Pat D.

Tyler was supposed to come over today, but he spent all day with Kristen, so I didn't see him. Instead I went over to Chris Williams' house where I played Perfect Dark, he played PS2 upstairs, and then we played with his cats and laughed. One of his cats is so fat rolls of skin hang so slow he trips over them as he walks. That's pretty fat.

I've finished reading Blue like Jazz and The Coffeehouse Gospel. Both are awesome books and I recommend them. I am starting More Ready Than You Realize by McLaren today. I have had a passion for reaching out to others lately, a passion I hope will not dissipate. I poop every day after I get home.

Reading Mike Box's posts on his gathering, 3rd Place, and seeing how God is blessing it, seeing how people are getting into it, I can't help but feel a few traces of envy.

The gathering I started, called flame, saw its birth about six months ago, near the end of May, just before school let out. It was awesome. We had six or seven people, and we went to North Park, sat out on the lawn, and just talked about God and what Jesus meant when he said we need to have faith like a child. Everyone was intensely in love with God and in love with each other, and many remarked it was the best gathering they'd ever been to. Eventually we reached our peak of nineteen people. But slowly the numbers began to fall away. It was sort of like a plague - one person started treating the whole thing like a joke, then another, and another. Then people started gossiping behind each others' backs and getting into huge arguments over dumb stuff. So people stopped coming. We were at about ten people when 40 Days of Community started, and no one took anything seriously, just goofed off and yelled at each other and yelled at me and then some people who were there seeking God stopped coming. I couldn't blame them. Every night upon returning home I was pulling my hairs out. We ran down to about six, and those people told me, "It stinks now, man." And they stopped coming. We only had three people come last time, and so we didn't even have it.

I guess the "envy" I harbor is envy that with Mike Box's group, the gatherers are willing to talk, to take some stuff seriously, to really get involved in the topic and take it to their lives. Now, I know no one's going to want to spend two hours being reverent and humble while talking about God - because that's not how it's meant to be. I believe that true community is birthed in laughter and having fun, and I believe when we gather to worship God, laughter and having fun is a vital part. But it can be taken too far.

So now I have a failed Thursday gathering, closed out for the year, and am wondering what to do come January 2005? Keep going? Rebirth?

Over the last couple of days, I've been listening to Straylight Run and wondering, "What is sin?" Straylight Run is not related in any way. But really, what is sin? We always think of sin as a list of dos-and-don't's, and while that's very elementary, there is some truth to it. But I just can't believe that sin is a list God drew up and labeled bad. Why is cheating bad? Why is lying and stealing a sin? Why is premarital sex bad, if you love each other; why is marriage needed for sex? Why is masturbation wrong, if it doesn't hurt anybody? I really can't just accept that those things are wrong because God says they are; sure, that's the truth, but why does God say they are sin? Sin is rebellion against God, right? How is cheating and stealing and lying and sexual immorality rebellion against God? I'm not question the idea of sin itself, I just want to know the underlying, basic, bedrock, eternal truths that make these things certain rebellion against God. Does anyone know?

And also, is cussing a sin? I don't cuss because I hate the sound of it, but if anyone has input...

Anthony Day 2004!

I have a day named after me? This is insane! Dad wakes me up at 6:45 and tells me, "You might want to save some extra time to get your Jeep ready." I thought it had snowed and been trenched in, but I looked outside and the roads were just wet. He says, "Come and see!" We trek downstairs, outside, and to the Jeep.

The Cherokee is wrapped in wrapping paper. On the top is a lawn chair with a seat cushion as a body, a straw hat and boots. A wreath adorns the back of the Jeep, and walking around, there was a poster that read Anthony Day, with a drawing of me in my thick bug glasses (which I dropped about three years ago!). Dad and I laughed. I will bet you Hague, Chris and Lee dropped by last night.

I worked a seven-hour shift at the hometown proud I.G.A., but upon returning, Hague drove up in his 4x4 and they beckoned me over. My guard was down, and soon snowballs - I think they were snowballs - were being hurled at me from Chris, Lee and the Pats. I chased Hague around the house, then ran down to the wood pile, found a big stick by the swing, and raced back, swinging it around like a berserker. Unfortunately no one was hit, though Dewenter's face was pure terror and horror as he jumped into the 4x4 and they gunned away. I kind of felt like the chainsaw massacre guy, just seeing their faces.

Speaking of serial killers, we watched the movie Monster last night at the Williams'. I thought it was OK. Everyone else hated it. I liked the fact it was a true story, and you kind of find compassion for the murderer. It wasn't your average thriller; it was drama, and you wanted to laugh and cry and it made you angry, especially the last murder. If you haven't seen it, you wouldn't understand.

Backtracking from the night's movie, around 4:00 I went up near Northmont to a buffet with my extended family. It is quite funny. Mom's family is a soap opera, and Dad's is an episode of Pleasantville. I don't understand how it happens to be honest. I always feel so foreign in either situation. But when we returned, Chris, Pat and Pat had visited again, breaking into the house with a key, and putting a poster on the steps that read ANTHONY DAY!!! They also stripped my mattresses and pulled out all my drawers. My dad went ballistic (in a nice fatherly way) and banned them from the house.

All in all, a very interesting day. My Saturdays are always interesting. After work, anyways. Work sucks.

So we're all just sitting in my room this evening and Pat says, "What can we do? None of us have money." Chris says, "Let's go to Half Price!" He's not a big reader, but he likes to browse the CDs and poems sections. I reply, "All I have is gas money. I'm budgeting now. I don't want to waste it." They laugh. Budgeting. Never saw myself budgeting. Suddenly Pat lights up. "Half Price! That's it! Dude! Let's sell all your dumb books!"

We emptied out my closet and some of my bookshelf. We probably had fifty or sixty books, no joke, mostly junk I've accumulated over the years. There were books on Christian fundamentalism to dinosaurs, to novels of all sorts, and some war history books. A whole bunch of junk that just took up space. We put them into clothes baskets, hauled them out to the Jeep in the rain. Ashlie drives up, and joins us.

The wait at 1/2 Price is excruciating. We agree to divy up the cash. We're expecting fifty bucks, you know, a dollar per book. What a crock. We got a check for twenty bucks and cashed it. Pat and Chris were ecstatic. I just thought of how I'd spent over two hundred dollars on all those books, and now, standing in the rain, all I have is a soggy twenty dollar bill. But then I smiled. Money is still money, and divying it up, I was eight bucks richer!

But how to break it? We fondled this question and decided on the classic place - Deals! We broke the twenty and I bought stuffed olives, jerky links, and a Jones soda. Chris bought a bag of fast breaks. Pat decided to save his money; he's investing it in his credit union.

After school Amanda asked me if I remembered when she called me butthead and pimple-face and fatty. I told her I did. She asked me if it made me sad, because she always used those words in place of my real name during my years of depression. I told her no. She seemed to lighten up. Then she asked, "What made you sad?" As honestly as I could, I said, "Pretty much just the simple fact you didn't like me." I must tell you she almost cried. She wrapped her arms around me so tight I farted (no joke). Yeah. That really happened.

God has been convicting me so tenderly that, to sum it up - and these aren't really his own words - I suck at witnessing. But I bet he agrees. I can't remember the last time I actually reached out to someone not in my community of faith. I mean, sure, I say hi to people and strike up friendly conversation, but I avoid the topic of God. I am afraid of scaring them away from God. But if I don't open my mouth, how can they ever think of running from God? The problem is I don't really know HOW to witness. I am surrounded by people who hold the Bible as Truth, and they're all in my community of faith, and all the others think the Bible is another counterfeit; all the witnessing books I have say go down the romans road, but what if people don't think the roman road exists? You get nowhere really. And I am a horrible speaker when countered. I stutter and stammer and struggle for words. When it's all over, what I SHOULD have said always pops into my head. It really makes me crazy inside.

If anyone has any tried-and-true, personal-encounters, non-textbook ideas or suggestions that I could ponder on in these times I would really appreciate them.

Last night, a bunch of us got together and watched Seinfeld, played some Texas Hold 'em and completed the ecstasy with four large Papa John's Pizzas. The idea behind it was, obviously, have some fun, but also to draw in our unchurched friends and kind of get them in the loop. We weren't selling Christianity at all; it wasn't a pitch for 412. We don't view people as numbers, or even as jewels on heavenly crowns, but we see them as people, souls, hungry for something more. We want to show them this something more. We want to build relationships, not just to share with them Good News of the message, but mostly just to have a good time and build friendships for the heck of it.

A friend of mine is really spiritually hungry. He starves for God, starves for something to really believe in. He's gone through a lot of hard times, and he's very skeptical of churches. From what he tells me, his family went to a church once and all they did was ask for money (this is the same case for another friend of mine), and now they won't even step foot inside a church. He wants nothing to do with Christianity. The question, then, is how do I show him what he wants? He knows what he wants; he just doesn't think it will come through Jesus. He has lots of respect for Jesus, he just doesn't think he's really the Son of God. How can I show him this Jesus? Through my life! Yet I hardly ever see him. Periodically I see him for brief instances in the halls at school, and every now and then we're scheduled together at I.G.A., but other than that, I never see him.

When I invite him to hang out when the goal is "let's get these people in so they can find life and we can have new friends" something always inevitably comes up; every now and then we go to Borders and 1/2 Price and browse, and that's as good a time as any, methinks. God has put him on my heart, and I've reached out, but I don't think it is mere coincidence that many times when he could've met other Christians things fell apart. My heart breaks for this kid. I just want him to know, to believe, to experience - life.

Why do I believe in God? Why do I believe in Jesus? It isn't rational; I mean, God isn't rational. God just doesn't make sense. It's like a caveman trying to understand an IPOD. That's how I feel sometimes. You'd go crazy trying to understand all there is to God. God, Jesus, faith, Christianity, it's all mysterious.

But why do I believe in all this? I didn't always. The idea of a Super Being controlling my life was horrible (and it still is!). Despite this, I felt drawn - not intellectually or mentally, but spiritually and emotionally - to God. I felt God drawing me to Him. I gave in and realized that God didn't want to control me, but free me; I realized God didn't want to squelch my life, but give me real life (and what great life it is!). I remember when I first said, "Yes," to God; most people say it was a miraculous, life-changing event. Mine wasn't really. I didn't feel any different. But that decision has etched a life I happily claim my own. The miracles and the roller-coaster emotions didn't start at the beginning of the journey, but are all over the journey itself.

I never really chose to believe; belief chose me. Those truths I hold so close chose me. I feel like a babbling fool - I really can't explain any of it. Yet this I know - it is beautiful, true, wonderful. It's not something you know with your mind, it's something you know with your heart. You can feel it in your soul. It is life. That's really all it is.

Life.

Jeff and his wife Mindy are eleven weeks into their pregnancy (well, Mindy's pregnancy :-)). I think I'd leave 412 if Jeff was going to be going into labor in seven weeks. It'd just be too weird. Anyways, this is awesome news because, unfortunately, they lost the first one. That said, Jeff has relayed that he would like any and all prayers that can be mustered for the baby's health and for Mindy's soon-to-be-rampant emotional swings :-). And speaking of Mindy's coming flare-ups, a good word in for Jeff would - I imagine - be greatly appreciated.

You can check out the baby's progress at a website Jeff built - www.babysutton.com

You've gotta be a proud daddy-to-be to buy a domain for a baby you haven't yet seen :-). He'll be a good one.

Tyler says he doesn't know what it is with my friends and our Chinese food. I guess it just doesn't help that we went out to eat after church at China Garden and I stuffed myself. I wasn't hungry the rest of the day.

Student Revolution was amazing; Jeff played a nooma DVD and I felt so divinely inspired that I actually bought it online! The message was on love - sometimes we think we're doing God a favor by picking up a bullhorn and calling down fire and brimstone - in whatever way we do it - but really we are most likely hurting the cause of Christ, bringing undeserved black marks down on a message of life, hope, and peace.

Finishing the Christian Culture Survival Guide, a very witty and satirical book, I must say I enjoyed it very much. Even though many of his statements are somewhat offensive to me and others I know, I do not deny there is some deep-bellied eternal truths under the satirical lace. At the end of his work he wrote two segments that I am going to copy down for you in case you haven't read the book. They're very nice. Here they are:

5 Teachings of Christ to Survive On:
1) Do not judge
2) Love your neighbor, but more importantly, love your enemy
3) Hunger and thirst after righteousness
4) Love the Lord with all your heart, mind, soul and strength
5) Believe. Believe. Believe. Believe what it teaches with all your heart.

5 Truths I've Learned about Living Out my Faith:
1) Love never has an agenda - never
2) We are always on call to be a missionary - even when we're asleep in bed
3) Jesus loves lesbians, murders, and legalistic fundamentalists
4) Sometimes the most blatant, obnoxious witness for Jesus comes from the quietest person in the room
5) No fear.

Another point he makes is that it's not a good idea to leave gospel tracts instead of a tip. This actually happened to me once at I.G.A.

Today is Pat Dewenter's birthday!!!

This more than midly exciting winter retreat began with waking up at 6:30. You'd think nothing good would come of that. But it all went uphill when Chris, Pat Hague, Pat D., Lee and I hooked up at Chris and Lee's. Piling into Lee's classic, we shot coffee and ate lemon crisps at Cafe a go-go.

Monopoly consumed our minds. I was the first out. Lee and Pat D. wiped me out, and Pat Hague and Chris fell not long after.

What do you know? We ate at CHINA COTTAGE! Pat D.'s Mom and Dad paid for our meals and we celebrated Pat D.'s birthday. Sixteen - when is he getting his temps??? All the guys wrapped up some gifts for me. The cards said they were passionately in love with me, it was hilarious. They gave me two boxes of fortune cookies and stole one of my dino books and wrapped it up :-). General Tao's chicken and egg drop soup erased the shakes, as I hadn't eaten except for a bowl of Honeycomb during the Monopoly franchise.

The night wasn't over yet! Pat Hague went over to Ashlie's, and Lee went to the slavehouse at the Towne Mall, but Chris, Pat D., Ams and I ate whisky meatballs and homemade applesauce while watching Payback with Mel Gibson. I haven't seen one bad Mel Gibson movie. He's phenomenal. All my friends agree.

We hung out at my place. Mom pulled up into the driveway and she popped out with a brand-new puppy wearing a Santa Clause hat. A cocker spaniel, Mom bought it for Grandma as an early Christmas gift. Grandpa is infuriated :-). He'll get over it.

My early Christmas gift - a CD player for my '93 Jeep Cherokee. Quacktastic.

fortune cookie wars - the first battle

It all started when I bought a box of fortune cookies from hometown proud I.G.A. Joining Chris Williams, Pat Dewenter, Pat Hague and Ashlie Finnie at Ashlie's house, I stole Hague's keys from under his nose, ran outside, unlocked the 4x4, put a fortune cookie in each seat, and locked the doors back up. I returned inside and laughed around with Ashlie until Forsake Me Not climbed out of the basement after a grueling hour of practice.

They wanted me to see a movie with them, Evil Dead. I will be going over there to watch it in a few minutes, but they're not there yet. Anyways, Ashlie decided to spend the night over here, so she was getting her shoes on when they went out the door. I sat down on the couch and picked up a giant Bible and was looking at 1 Kings when I heard doors slamming, and frantic voices: "Anthony! Anthony!"

Ashlie's eyes went wide. I held the Bible taught. All three of them bolted into the room. Pat's face was ashen; Hague was tripping over the carpet; Chris munched on his fortune cookie. Hague shrieked, "Did you do this! Anthony! Please tell me you did this!" Fear. Terror. I was laughing, but played it off like I was laughing at them, not at the joke. I asked what was going on. Pat said, "There were fortune cookies in our seats." This is way into the night, you must know, and they're mortified - the idea of a five-foot-tall Chinese Ho-Chi-Minh slinking around the suburbs is unnerving to anyone and makes you wary of windows. Chris finished off his cookie. Hague yelped, "Anthony! Listen! TELL ME YOU DID THIS!" "Were there any in my Jeep?" I countered.

Suddenly Pat yells to Chris, "Dude! You should've have eaten that! It could've been poisoned!" Chris suddenly isn't so calm; his eyes are large as saucer plates. Hague's hands are shaking. How come I haven't exploded in laughter yet??? Pat said, "Hague, show me the wrapper. I'll be able to tell what restaurant it is from. I know these things." Hague throws it over. Chris' attention is beamed in. I'm watching with ecstatic glee. Pat looks over the wrapper, "This isn't China Cottage, man."

Chris finally speaks. "Check Anthony's car!" They turn and bolt out the front door, almost spinning into the hedges. Ashlie and I run after them. Pat is in the lawn and asks under his breath, "Did you do it, man?" I told him no. Chris and Hague are at the Jeep, throwing open the doors. The inside light goes on and they see the I.G.A. bag and the box of fortune cookies. Fear drains into anger.

Chris takes the box of fortune cookies, opens the lid, and hurls them out all over the street. The rest is chaos. A neighbor looking out the door would hear lots of shouting, yells, cries, figures running about in the dark. Hague jumped up at me; I kicked him in the stomach, knocking him in to the Jeep. I chased Chris and Pat; Pat took the fortune cookies and ran up into the garage. He hands them off to Hague. Chris and Pat double-team me and I'm caught; Hague makes a run for it; I flail and break free, hurling myself at Hague. They beat it into the 4x4 and race away.

Ashlie and I jump into the Jeep and we drive to I.G.A., where I bought yet another pack of fortune cookies (what is it with me and Chinese food?). I told Ashlie, "We'll put them in Chris' front door in a Pentagram." That's a witch's symbol for those of you who don't know. We drive to their subdivision, and as we turn onto their road, a pair of headlights flashes over us and I know: it's them.

I smile at Ashlie. She sees the vengeance in my eye.

I haven't much to share with you. Life has been school and work, with not too much in between. Tuesday Jeff, Lee, Chris, Dylan, Pat and I got together and talked about how we can start stop talking and start living (does that make any sense?) lives that reflect love and mission for Jesus. Lives of spreading the Message and reaching out to those around us. Hopefully we can make some headway from there.

Afterwards, Jeff bolted and us kids took a drive to Cafe-a-go-go, a delicious cofeehouse, where we hung out, drank coffee, and talked life. The cafe is nice, with chiming music in the background, tender coffee aroma, murals of Central America and Columbian coffee bags. They even had a bonzai tree I almost killed because I thought it was fake :-). It's always fun to just forget the trials and temptations and troubles of the easy teenage life and just lay back, drink a mocha, and listen to the wind against the sails.

My highlight of the week: Manchuan Raman noodles on sale, ten for a buck, bought me two dollars and thirty cents' worth. I got all the flavors. Chili, Creamy Chicken, Chicken n' Mushroom, Beef, Oriental, Chicken, Shrimp, Roast Beef, and I can't think of anymore. Ahh. Raman. The classic college food.