the 33rd week

Corey chilling on our balcony

Monday. I had the day off thanks to a scheduling mishap. I went to The Anchor to do some writing, got McDonald's for breakfast, and spent the day reading and watching SVU. There was no Loth House gathering: Brandy's sick. So Blake, Traci and I hung out, and I got Chipotle for dinner.

Tuesday. I visited Ams in Dayton. Mom & Dad are in Put-in Bay. Ams and I played with Sky and watched Netflix. On my way home hammering rains obscured the highway, so much flooding. I swung by the Loth House. Brandy and John apologized for being mean to me lately, said they're just sad and angry about Jim. It's totally fair. Besides, I give ample room for meanness, and I'm so unobservant that I never notice it anyways. I'm like the perfect punching bag.

Wednesday. We've hired two new people: Chloe and Josh. They both seem pretty awesome. I ran by Amos' and Ams came over, and we played Call of Duty. John broke down and bought a PS3 (the old one crashed, hence how Mario-Kart on the Wii replaced Black Ops). I hung out with Isaac on the back porch, and he got drunk and went to Kevin's. Oh: Tibbles made me and Eric Hunk Day t-shirts. "It's like Hump Day, just Hunk Day!" And she made the two of us wear them today. "And they're V-necks. Perfect."

Thursday. I worked F.P., a slow day. I went to Frank's after work, and "wine Corey" joined us for Halo 4 and a documentary on the Incas. I started feeling sick when I got home (I think I got it from Ams?) and went to bed early after Combo's for dinner.

Friday. I felt sick all day: super congested and a sore throat. I ran to CVS a few blocks from the shop for drugs. Work was tiring, and I napped as soon as I got home. My evening was spent hopped up on drugs and playing The Walking Dead videogame. At first I didn't like it, but I've become invested in the story's characters.

Saturday. I dreamt I saw Mandy K. in the distance, walking away from me, her back turned and not a single glance back. It's pretty much how I feel. We don't talk anymore, not one bit. I've tried, but she has no interest. Really, I don't blame her. I was honest with her, told her I loved her. I did love her, and she made me want to hope that everything would be okay, that I could still find love and be loved. She wasn't interested in any of that, at least not with me, and my heart caved in on itself. It's only fair that she quietly snuffs me out of her life: I told her I loved her, she didn't feel the same way, how ELSE would she respond? I cherished our honesty and openness with one another, our vulnerability, and the ironic thing is that honesty is what pushed her away. My love for her has all but died. I still care about her, think about her often, but a love malnourished can't but wither. 

Sunday. I woke early and got coffee from UDF. I spent the morning quietly reading on the balcony before hitting up U.C.C. I missed the last Ecclesiastes sermon while in the Gorge, and Anthony J. started a series on the Law. I stopped by the Loth House to see Amos and Andy before jetting up to Dayton to (a) clean out my car and (b) pick up my bike so I can start riding again. Back home, I hung out with Blake and Ams, and when everyone headed out for their evening plans I geared up for a bike ride and the front tire blew right down the block. But of course! So I just took a walk instead, practicing the examen, a monastic discipline invented by St. Ignatius. I liked it. I used to pray so much, was such a man of prayer back in the day. Hard times came, I grew lax in my prayers as God hid himself from me, and then my intimacy with God started slipping away, and my trust in him plummeted. Retrograde can be nice.

"The Dawkins Delusion"

A little over a year ago I read through several books by New Atheists and those against the New Atheism. I read more books by atheists than theists (I enjoy such books more), and though I disagree with them on so many points, there's still merit to be found in the works of Christopher Hitchens, Daniel Dennett, Richard Dawkins and the like. Though that "Quest" of sorts ended a long time ago, I've been rereading through some of my notes, perusing quotes and excerpts and thinking about all these things again. It isn't that my convictions have changed, but that I enjoy being challenged and thinking through things. 

The plan was to add excerpts from the book on this blog in staggered intervals. Seeing as I hardly post anymore, that means these excerpts could go on for months, and who wants that? So here are some of my book notes if you're so inclined: Book Notes

THE WALKING DEAD (II)

To psyche myself up for The Walking Dead returning in October, I've been steadily playing through the video game fashioned after the comic. It's basically an interactive RPG where your decisions affect the flow of the game (to a degree). The graphics are set up almost like a cartoon, which unsettled me at first (I like things to look as realistic as possible when it comes to video games, hence my love for Birds of Steel), but as the story's progressed, I've actually felt myself pulled in. I feel for the characters, and I make decisions based on my feelings towards the characters. One of the main storylines is the main character, Lee, protecting a little girl he found alone at the beginning of the outbreak; her name's Clementine. In one of the last scenes I played, Clementine disappeared, and I literally felt a bit panicked as I sent my character running around trying to find her. I've never gotten so emotionally absorbed into a game, so kudos to the developers. 

THE WALKING DEAD (I)

Comic-Con released the first sneak peak at Season 4.
I can't begin to describe to you my excitement.
I may or not be addicted to this show. 
(Hence the caps in the post title)

the 32nd week

Monday. DeJuan and I opened together, a slow morning. Isaac found bugs in our blue sofa, so Blake and I wrapped it up and threw it on the curb. "The end of an era," Isaac lamented. Hopefully the end of those pesky bugs, too! I fixed a double decker cheeseburger with two fried eggs for dinner and spent the evening at the Loth House hanging out with Amos, Blake and Traci and watching Cops: Portland.

Tuesday. DeJuan & I opened, another slow day. Sales tend to plummet come summertime, but we sell a TON of iced coffee. I went to The Anchor after work to do some writing before meeting up with Isaac, his brother John, and Amos at Rock Bottom on Fountain Square. Summer honey ales and a roasted vegetable pizza. We continued the festivities up the street at Amos' and partied with John & Brandy. 

Wednesday. Mom, Dad, Ams and I met up at Longhorn Steakhouse on I75 in honor of Mom's late birthday. She demanded I get a full rack of smoked ribs, and I happily obliged. At one point during the dinner I was trying to convince the waitress I'm a minor, Dad was pretending to cut himself imitating Mom's withdrawal from the FB game "Candy Crush," and Mom was getting excited about talking about sex. There's no doubt about it: I love my weird, quirky family.

Thursday. Isaac and I carpooled into work since we both opened. I picked up Fusian for dinner: yellowtail roll. I spent my evening at the Hilltop hanging out with Eric & Tiffany, Andy, and Karen. Tiffany had a rough meeting with Bob: bakery's losing money and her hours have been slashed to five a week. "Looks like I may be leaving Tazza Mia sooner rather than later," she groaned.

Friday. I showed up to work an hour early on accident, so I went across the street and relaxed with coffee and a bagel at Panera. After work Dad picked me up from my apartment, and we dropped off Mom and Sky in Lexington and then headed down into Red River Gorge. We're crashing in an air conditioned hostel with nice beds. And we're crashing a rock climbing party hosted by two cute UK girls. Dad and I got dinner at a Christian-themed diner a town over. It was called Manna's, and they had the BEST onion rings I've ever had. Back at the quiet lodge, I went out to Sunset Rock, a gargantuan boulder rising hundreds of feet above the gorge overlooking the craggy, cliff-faced and tree-studded hills all around. I watched the sunset and read my Bible. Oh: I forgot my phone, so it seems I'll be out-of-touch for a while. I don't mind.

Saturday. Breakfast was bacon and eggs, and then Dad and I took a 5-mile hike into the gorge and out again. There was a reason they dubbed the trail "The Rough Trail." We munched on sandwiches in the shade and then did a zipline adventure through the hills (with free Ale-8 afterwards!). Dinner was at The Rock House, where they had lilies in Ale-8 bottles as vases, but not until after we did a short hike to a rock bridge waterfall. After three beers and a burger topped with bacon and an egg, Dad and I retired to the lodge and I read up on colonial American history at the firepit.

Sunday. Dad and I fixed bacon and toast for breakfast as hammering rains fell all around. The weather cleared and we hiked on a trail close to Natural Bridge. Whittleton Arch trail or something like that. The trail followed a meandering stream through gullies and beaver dams, through cliffs and massive rock formations. Gnats clawed at us. The beauty reminded me of the Adirondacks, and I pretended I was a colonial ranger heading north towards Ticonderoga, Iroquois hidden in the shadows of the trees. Dad and I nabbed Miguel's Pizza for lunch (a tradition) and then we headed north. Back home I spent the evening sore but chilled out, hanging out with Ams and Isaac, Andy and Amos, and Blake. I took a late-night drive into Kentucky, admiring an approaching storm, lightning crisscrossing in the sky. But then came the relentless sheets of rain, my car all but locked up, and it wasn't so fun anymore.

[Red River Gorge '13]

Dad and I go camping at least once a year, and the last two years we've gone to Red River Gorge. There are countless trails to be explored, boulders to be climbed, and amazing restaurants to stuff yourself at. We rolled into the Gorge Friday and were there through this afternoon, hiking and zip-lining and dining: Manna's, The Rock House, Miguel's Pizza (a tradition). I love getting away from the city, immersing myself in the country for a while, and just recentering. This year I forgot my phone, and thus I was unable to take pictures. The image above is of the Gorge but stolen off the internets. Next year we might go camping at Hocking Hills off to the east. 

sunday's sermon: a reflection

This past Sunday Mandy preached from Ecclesiastes 3.1-14. The first eight verses are the famous "everything has its season" poem, offering a telescopic look at life. There's a time for bad things and a time for good things in our lives. In hard times, this poem is comforting: "Nothing lasts forever." The corollary holds true for when good times mark our lives; "Nothing lasts forever," and we shouldn't expect those good times to last forever. Life's full of good things and bad things, and the good times are teases: "If life is so chaotic and uncertain with the promise of suffering, what can we hope for?"

Much in our lives is far from ideal. Even those who seem to have it so easy partake in the chaotic nature of the human existence. Life's full of trials no matter who you are, no matter your station in life. It's easy to assume that life is one or the other, to see our lives as full of hardships while everyone else seems to have the Easy Road. This is a blind assumption. We all have the shit we have to deal with; some people are just more open about it than other. Life is a patchwork of joys and sorrows, and there's no way around it. Buying into "If only..." thinking, that if only "this" or "that" were different, things would be okay, does an injustice to the nature of reality. Pursuing our "If onlys..." and putting our hope in them leaves us grasping at straws; and if we're so lucky to get what we've been hoping for, we find ourselves just hoping for more and wondering why we're still searching for that magic bullet to make things all right.

In Ecclesiastes 3.9-14, we're told that God gives us beautiful things "in time." These are temporal gifts, but that makes them no less gifts. The best thing we can do in a life marked by chaos, uncertainty, and both joys and sufferings is to enjoy the good things while we can and do good until the day we die. These temporal gifts, whatever they may be, never satisfy, because God has set eternity in our hearts. We burn with a longing for eternity, even if we don't see it at the time. We plug things into our lives to deliver what we crave, but the efforts disappoint, because while we're filling our lives with temporal blessings, our hearts are craving something far beyond that. What we're ultimately searching for is that which we often can't even fathom, and because we're too nearsighted to see it, we think what we need is more power, more pleasure, more security, more prestige. But all these things vanish like the wind: you can be the most popular, sexiest, wealthiest man one year and then be forgotten, downtrodden, ignored, and ugly as all get out come next year. What we ought to do, then, is to focus our lives on what our hearts crave, union with God, and enjoy those good things he gives us while we can. 

the 31st week

Monday. Today's highlight: penne pasta with olive oil, basil pesto, chicken, mushrooms, asparagus and garlic. Loth House was quiet tonight with John & Brandy off house-sitting, though Vine Street wasn't too quiet: gunshots and ghettobirds! 

Tuesday. Mom surprised me by visiting me while I was at work. It really made my day. Amos and I went to Newport to see World War Z: 3D, and we barely made it on time: police shut down Vine Street. Someone was murdered in the park at the end of Loth Street.

Wednesday. I went on a date this evening with a girl named Jennifer. We went to the Happy Hollow and had a few drinks. She's super awesome, and we talked till about 11:30 AM. We'll probably hang out again. Isaac came over and joined us for a bit, and she loved his tattoos.

Thursday. Jennifer came into work today to check out the cafe. I made her an Italian capp and she loved it. We sat and talked on my break, and as cool as she is, I just don't feel a connection. I'm still in that trap of measuring everyone up against the Wisconsinite. Small Group was cancelled 'cause of flooding rain, which was okay, because my car can't handle it. Once the rains cleared, Isaac and I spent the evening with Amos at the Loth House. Oh: Ams and Josh are talking again, and Ams' plans to move in with Chris and Sarah are kaput. Some weird shit went down.

Friday. Eric and I opened, and I had the place to myself tonight: pork chops and a garlic loaf for dinner, and I finished Season 3 of Game of thrones. I played Birds of Steel 200 cc, taking shots like the Japanese kamikaze pilots as I bombed American carriers in the Pacific. 

Saturday. Mom, Dad and I spent the day in Anderson, Indiana for my cousin Addison's marriage to his wife Mandy. It was a beautiful, quirky wedding. Weddings can be bittersweet for me, signposts to the disappointments underscoring my life. The thoughts can be consuming to the point where it's hard to breathe as I fight off panic attacks. It's awesome.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor before church at U.C.C. The sermon, preached by Mandy S., was great. I spent some time with Amos, John and Brandy and had a quiet evening of video games, SVU, and orange chicken from Double Dragon II. Mandy's sermon was on Ecclesiastes 3.1-14. It's the whole "everything has a season" spiel. My takeaways: (a) no one has a "perfect" life. Everyone has good and bad things happen to them. Life is hard, and it will have both laughter and mourning. You can't escape it. Period. (b) We deal with hard times and say "If only..." If only this or that were different, everything would be perfect. Not true: all is stained. (c) God gives us good things "in time," and often these gifts are temporal. They're no less gifts because they don't last forever. (d) It's easy to focus on life's difficulties, the "If onlys," but doing so blinds us to God's loving gifts all around us. It's God's desire that we enjoy these gifts, and do good, as we live our lives. (e) The good gifts God gives us won't fulfill us. They're gifts, not the End All. That title belongs to God. He has set eternity in our hearts, and real, lasting, and abundant living is found not in the gifts but in the greatest gift of them all: the gift of the Spirit, the gift of Christ in us, the gift of a holy union with the Creator. So, yeah: damned good sermon.

2013: what a shitty year (so far)

"You haven't updated your blog in a couple weeks," Blake warned me. He's behind me right now playing Super Mario on Nintendo Wii. He's slightly better at it than I am. "This summer just needs to end," he told me the other day. Traci's best friend's mom just died of cancer, Blake's uncle has been diagnosed with cancer, and my cousin Megan's father-in-law came down with cancer and had a stroke after the surgery. He's hanging on by a thread. It's a terrifying time for many, and 2013 proves to be one of the worst summers in my experience to date. So many people are dying, getting sick, and losing loved ones that it's just nauseating to think about.

Isaac and I were out on the balcony a few nights ago, drinking Scotch out of the bottle and talking about all these things. He has a peace regarding his mother despite the cancer she's fighting, but his brother's having a far more difficult time bearing such a burden. Isaac pondered why some people fear death while others have no problem with it. I suggested it's because death is the end of all that we know: from birth to death, that's our experience, and what comes after is unknown. We speculate, conjecture, and take on faith what we think might lie around the corner, but there's no proof that anyone's right about anything. We simply don't know what awaits us after our final, haggard breaths. There's a certain terror in that, the fear of the unknown. I believe that there is such a thing as an afterlife, and that it's beautiful for those who've been reconciled with their Maker, but I can't prove to skeptics that I'm right, and nor do I try to. It's something I take on faith. 

I've often wondered how God looks at death. What are our deaths like from God's perspective? To him, our lives are mere vapors. We're born and we die, with a little bit of time in between. Death entered the human experience as a curse from God's hand, a much-deserved judgment, but for those who have been reconciled with him, death has lost its sting. When we who are in Christ die, we don't face emptiness or nothingness; we don't face torment and torture; in a sense, we don't even die. Death has lost its sting, and Jesus promised that those who belong to him will never even taste death. I can't help but take such promises at face value. When we who are in Christ die, we transition, move from one plane of existence to another. My mom has told me often of being at the bedside of a dying relative, and right before she expired she handed her husband something invisible, said it was a piece of an angel, and then she smiled and closed her eyes and died. Perhaps when death comes to us, God doesn't let us go through it alone; perhaps he sends angels to comfort us and to carry us home. I don't know. But I take comfort in the thought that death isn't the end, that those who know God in Christ have the promise that when this present life is over, a new, joyous, and even more abundant life begins.

harray caray and the lumineers

Eric pointed me towards this video.
I've always been a fan of The Lumineers, but this is just breathtaking.
Enjoy.

on small group/house church

It’s strange: although Carly, Jessica and I were only close for a handful of months, I think of them both and miss all those moments we had together. It’s sad that our friendships ended, and I’m not mad about that or anything. Life pulls people in different directions, and it’s an unfortunate reality that even good friendships can be brought to a screeching halt by life’s shifting circumstances. I really do believe that Carly, Jessica and I were close, and the fact that the friendships no longer exist doesn’t mean that we were any less closer than we were. As much as I’d like to think that true, genuine friendships last forever, that’s not the case, nor does it need be. A gift is no less a gift because it’s temporary. Carly, Jessica and I had great friendships, but it was only for a season. That’s how life is: things come and go in seasons, and most things, especially the most beautiful ones, are only temporary. What’s wonderful to me is how God brings different people into our lives for seasons, friends to comfort us and help us along our journey, friends whom we can support and help on their journey. We may share our journeys for only a time, but the journey is still shared and no less real when our journeys meet a fork in the road. Sure, sometimes the parting of paths is difficult to bear, but often worth it for the journey, albeit temporary, that was shared.

Gifts anchored in time are no less gifts, and looking over my life, I’m seeing that God has always brought quality people and friendships into my life. When I moved to Dayton, was it blind luck that I got a job at the one Starbucks in America where ninety percent of the staff was Christian? Was it blind luck that I developed deep and sustaining friendships during that time, friendships I’ll always remember despite their anchorage in the past? And is it blind luck that when I moved down to Cincinnati, I lived and worked with Christians? Is it blind luck that Tibbles, and then Eric, were hired onto 600? And is it blind luck that they took the initiative and started an intimate, community-focused house church when that’s what I wanted and needed so badly? I’m quite cynical, as a rule, but I can’t help but see God’s hand in it all, that he’s watching over me. There was a time when I had no friends, and I prayed that God would bring me good and true friends. Ever since, my life has been marked by amazing friendships wherever I am, and God continually brings quality people into my life, and has even let me live with those I can call close as brothers.

RANDOM TWIST IN THOUGHT! (common to those who know me) Regarding house church, I don’t feel it’s the best replacement for an actual church. We call it “house church,” but basically it’s turned into Hang Out Time. Which is awesome, don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite times of the week. There’s absolutely nothing to frown upon when it comes to spending time with people you love. It’s just that I’m “old school” and think that if something qualifies as a “church gathering,” it should involve things like worship, reading and studying the scriptures, learning and praying together. Yes, I know that the most important thing in our churches is that we love one another and share our lives with one another; but as much as that’s pretty damned important, I’m still of the persuasion that social clubs aren’t the same thing as coming together to learn, pray, worship, and to strengthen and build up one another. All that said, I’ve been going to U.C.C. more regularly, and I’ve really been enjoying it. I’m sort of going to U.C.C. on Sundays and focusing on community with those involved in the house church. Apex in Centerville works that way. And though it’s not quite my ideal, it’s less intimidating that jumping into a new church full of strangers and really “getting involved,” and it’s a good first step. I’m learning that a good amount of pragmatism is involved when it comes to things of faith. 

the importance of being foolish (X)

Epilogue: The Revolution

"A gentle revolution will come through the little cadre of Christian fools who are willing to overthrow the established order by rearranging their lives around the mind of Christ. Their quest is transparency through truthfulness, and their lifestyles will be shaped by the gospel of Jesus Christ... Their priorities are personal, determined not by the popular religion of the day, by power politics, or by the consumer culture, but by the Sermon on the Mount and the paschal mystery. To the fool, Jesus Christ is not a sage or a starry-eyed reformer; he is the second Adam, author of a new creation... He has redirected reality and given it a revolutionary orientation. Jesus did not tidy up the world. He brought it to a screaming halt. What he refashioned out of the human stuff of the old order is not nicer people with better morals but brand-new creations." (emphasis mine)

"The sense of mission among the fools will create havoc in the neighborhood. Fears will be aroused, and rumors will circulate that these people are becoming 'peculiar.' Their friends will advise them to settle down and do something constructive with their lives (like seek out security, pleasure, or power). Neighbors will whisper that they are religious fanatics. Relatives will regale them with ostentatious displays of their dubious achievements. Each ploy will be designed to make them look and feel like what they actually are: fools."

"Today Christianity is largely inoffensive; this kind of religion will never transform anything. Jesus Christ the master revolutionary offended the religious and political order of Palestine. Christians too are bound to offend, and if we do not it is a bad sign--we cannot be very revolutionary."

"At an exact day and hour known only to the Father... Jesus Christ, the King of Glory, will upstage all the beautiful, famous, and powerful people who have ever lived. Every man and woman who has ever drawn breath will be appraised, evaluated, and measured solely in terms of their relationship with the Carpenter from Nazareth. This is the realm of the really Real. The Lordship of Jesus Christ and his primacy in the created order (Ephesians 1:10) are at the center of the gospel proclamation. This is reality."

"When the fools who seek to live with the mind of Christ ask themselves, 'Why do I exist?' they answer, 'For the sake of Jesus Christ.' If the angels ask, it is the same answer: 'For the sake of Jesus Christ.' If the whole universe were suddenly to become articulate, from north to south and from east to west it would cry out in chorus, 'We exist for the sake of Christ.' The name of Jesus would issue from the seas and mountains and valleys; it would be tapped out by the pattering rain. It would be written with lightning in the skies. The storms would roar the name 'Lord Jesus Christ God-hero,' and the mountains would echo it back. The sun on its westward march through the heavens would chant a thunderous hymn, 'The whole universe is full of Christ.'"

"If there is any priority in our personal or professional lives more important than the Lordship of Jesus Christ, we disqualify ourselves as witnesses to the gospel and from membership in the gentle revolution. Since the day when Jesus burst the bonds of death and the messianic era erupted into history, there is a new agenda, a new set of priorities, and a revolutionary hierarchy of values for the believer. The Carpenter did not simply refine Platonic or Aristotelian ethics, reorder Old Testament spirituality, or renovate the old creation. He brought a revolution. We must renounce all that we possess, not just most of it. We must give up our old way of life, not merely correct some slight aberrations in it. We are to be an altogether new creation, not simply a refurbished version of it. We are to be transformed from one glory to another, even into the very image of the Lord--transparent. Our minds are to be renewed by a spiritual revolution."

"When we are hungry for God, we move and act, become alive and responsive; when we are not, we are dilettantes playing spiritual games. 'God is of no importance unless He is of supreme importance,' said Abraham Heschel. An intense inner desire to learn to think like Jesus already the sign of God's presence. The rest is the operation and activity of the Holy Spirit."

the importance of being foolish (IX)

Chapter 7: Resurrection Wisdom

"[The] Holy Spirit jettisons the garbage in the junkyard of the mind, sweeps clean the attic of addictive emotional programming, frees the Christian from the damnable imprisonment of the flesh, and eliminates the considerable unnecessary suffering in life that is not born of the will of God."

"The study of psychology has added significantly to our understanding of human behavior and provided a key to unlocking the inner chambers of the mind. Many in the church have come to appreciate the emotional and spiritual benefits of counseling, meditation practices, yoga, contemplative prayer, and so forth. However, we must also recognize that all these human activities remain limited in their ability to give us complete spiritual insight and direction. For that, we can only turn to the inspired Word of God. And the gospel points to only one source of redemption: the Cross of Jesus Christ."

"For us, the death and resurrection process was initiated in conversion, but if we are to continue to drink of the life-giving water of the Spirit we must draw near to the body of our crucified God, from whom the saving waters flow... If there are few Spirit-filled, power-laden, transparent Christians, it is because so few have plunged into the true life of Jesus and died to sin, selfishness, dishonesty, and degraded love. Whenever the Spirit of God blows like a hurricane through Christian history, it is through prophets and Christ lovers who have surrendered unconditionally to the folly of the Cross."

"The exploration of the mind of Christ is a journey to nowhere if the pilgrim is still handcuffed to the flesh. Transparency is obliterated if he draws a silk screen across the rough wood of the cross."

"The impact of every serious effort at reform, renovation, and spiritual renewal... will vanish like last night's dream if it is not sustained by the power of the paschal mystery."

"Jesus entered our world as the music man, but the world was disturbed by his song. On Good Friday the world went back to the peace it needed. Jesus wanted to turn the world into a great cathedral organ, and he dug music out of dry bread, herds of pigs, whores, and the dead. Nain, Jericho, Capternaum, and Bethany put two nails into his hands to silence his music."

"The life of the Christian is not the imitation of a dead hero. The Christian lives in Christ, and Christ lives in the Christian through the Holy Spirit. We are empowered to live new lives where sin has no place. If we do not, we frustrate the power of the paschal mystery by our refusal of faith in the power."

"We can delude ourselves into believing that sin is simply an aberration or a lack of maturity; that preoccupation with security, pleasure, and power is caused by social structures and personality quirks; that we are sinful but not sinners, since we are mere victims of circumstances, compulsions, environment, addictions, upbringing, and so forth. The Passion nails these lies and rationalizations to the Cross... Even the last perversion of truth we cling to--the self-flattery that suggests we are being rather humble when we disclaim any resemblance to Jesus Christ--has to go when we stand face to face with the crucified Son of Man."

"The unnecessary emotional suffering connected with living by our desire for security, pleasure, and power--depression, anxiety, guilt, fear, and sadness--is vanquished by the transforming power of the love of Jesus Christ. The Cross is a confrontation with the overwhelming goodness of God and the mystery of his love."

"The power of darkness (security, pleasure, and power) attempts to seduce us to turn back, to renege on our commitment, to renounce our obedience to Christ by a kind of physical or moral self-annihilation. The Cross confronts us with the cost of discipleship, reminds us that there is no cheap Pentecost, and carries with it the living power to enable us to endure the inevitable humiliations, rejections, sacrifices, and loneliness that the journey to higher Christian consciousness imposes."

"What is the basic truth that sets Mary Magdalene free? It is that God loves her with an overwhelming love. This gift, not the intellectual cognition but the experiential awareness of it, is mediated through the Spirit of Christ crucified. The personal living experience of the love of Jesus Christ is the power and wisdom that illuminates, transforms, and transfigures Mary Magdalene and all the extravagant lovers in Christian history."

the 30th week

Isaac sporting off some coffee

Monday. I opened like I always do and spent the afternoon watching Game of Thrones. Finished Season One! It’s such a fantastic show, I suspect I’ll watch all three seasons fairly quickly. After a quick hop at the Loth House, I rounded out the night chilling in the living room watching Isaac play Prince of Persia.

Tuesday. Mo and I talked today. She says she has only good memories of us, that she’ll never forget me. “I loved you, Anth. I really, truly did.” She only saw the good in me, and I broke up with her in an attempt to be with someone who could only see my flaws. I think of Mo often, all the good times we had, even the bad shit we went through, and I miss her, I really do. More often than not I question my decision back in February. She’s moved on, is happy with someone else, and I’m realizing I gave up the best woman I’ve ever been with. She did what no one else has done: she loved me, even loved all my little quirks and oddities. I fear one day I’ll be forty, childless, and alone; and that I’ll look back on these days knowing I could’ve had all I wanted, a loving wife, a family, and I gave it up for an illusion.

Wednesday. Some days are good. Others aren’t so good. I spent the evening alone, the night drawing over me, and then came the sadness, the hopelessness, the despair. All around me, it seems, people are falling in love, getting married, starting families. This is what I want and pray for more than anything, and I can’t help but feel like it’s some sort of cruel joke, God pairing a heart like mine to the body I’ve been given. Short, pudgy, pale-skinned and awkward. Women want a man and I look like an Inuit boy. No one’s into that. In a world flooded with dark-skinned, stone-chiseled, tall men, I’m never first choice. I’m what women go for when they’re either desperate or out of options. No matter that I’m a damned good guy who treats women right; never mind that I don’t manipulate or take advantage of women. What matters, what REALLY matters, is physical appearance. Why else would women choose jackasses if not because the sex is hot? Of course, such thoughts must be balanced: for some reason Mo fell in love with me, and for some reason she thought I was super sexy. Some women DO see value in me despite my inability to live up to culture’s standards for sexuality and masculinity. All I can do is hope and pray that one of these rare sorts of women will come to love me like Mo did, and that I’ll love her, too, and build a family with her. This is my dream and I can’t give it up.

Independence Day. I had the day off work for the 4^th, so I spent the afternoon reading, writing, chilling with Isaac, and playing Birds of Steel. I read a lot about World War 2 in Russia: the Russian victory at Leningrad and Stalingrad, Kursk and Kharkov. I went over to Amos’ for a bit and scratched Independence Day plans with Eric and Tiffany: rain fell all day, the roads flooded, and I was just happy to get home in one piece. My evening consisted of hanging out with Blake and Traci, drinking scotch out of the bottle with Isaac and T.J., and watching fireworks off our balcony (they were shooting them off from Waterworks Park).

Friday. I worked 6:30-Noon, spent the afternoon reading about various “home fronts” in World War 2, and after a stint at The Anchor I met up with the Monday Nights crew (minus Isaac, Andy, Blake and Traci… So really only half the Monday Nights crew), plus some friends of John, plus Frank & Rebecca, at a house in Clifton for a night of Texas Hold ‘Em poker. The house was gorgeous, absolutely beautiful, set off from the road and nestled in the woods. It belongs to a brain surgeon and his psychoanalyst wife. We drank beers and shared Cuban cigars John & Brandy brought home from their honeymoon in the Dominican. I got home around midnight but couldn’t sleep, so I was up until 2 AM playing Birds of Steel and drinking scotch.

Saturday. I hold onto things too much, especially people. I held onto my friendship with Jessica and Carly way past its due. I held onto Mandy K. and sabotaged things with Mo. Now I hold onto Mo despite the fact that she’s happy with someone else. It may be an introverted thing, but I hate the transcience of friendships, how you can expose yourself so deeply, taste true and genuine human connection, only for it to blow away in an off-kilter breath. When people outgrow you, or pull away from you, or decide life would be better without you in it, that sucks. The best thing to do is delete such people out of your life, if only because it’s best for you and it honors their wishes.

Sunday. I went to The Anchor for a bit before church at U.C.C., and then I swung by Amos’ house and hung out with him for most of the day. Come evening an old friend, Lea, asked me to come over, so I headed over to her place and we caught up. It was good. Now I’m going to put this pen down, crawl into bed, and let this week be over. It’s been a long one, full of too much thinking and observing.

'merica!

"Is that from when we liberated Hiroshima?" Andy Waugh for the win.