I’ve picked up this book below as some reading material over break, and so far I am impressed. I highly recommend it to everyone. I really enjoyed N.T. Wright’s Paul, even though I often found it too technical and detailed to comprehend sometimes. His writing in this book, however, is very simplistic. The first third of the book focuses on some evidences that there are bigger things going on in our world than we often admit, and he uses very detailed and sophisticated arguments to make his point. In part three, he moves into an examination of the Christian faith from his perspective. And in the final part, he contemplates how our lives might be different if Christianity were true. I’m only to the beginning of part two, and I really enjoyed part one. Pick this one up!

My dad and I arrived in Washington, D.C. around 5:00, and we took a taxi to our hotel right along a popular strip of restaurants and shops. We spent the evening walking down Connecticut Avenue and examining the hole-in-the-wall eateries and such; we have a list of restaurants we want to “knock up”, including a steak house and an Italian eatery, both of which are, from hearsay, amazing. Tomorrow I am going to shower, go get some food somewhere down Connecticut Avenue, then maybe read some more from “Simply Christian” at Dupont Circle. When my dad gets out of his conference meeting, we’re going to go to The Mall and explore some of the monuments in the setting sun. I’m definitely taking my camera. We’ll probably grab food on the way back (looking at monuments in the dark doesn’t sound too invigorating to either of us).

Dylan and Tyler came over yesterday, and we went to Guitar Center and Borders before returning home to make some prank phone calls to friends and watch an episode of "NCIS." I spent the rest of the night watching more episodes of NCIS before finally going to bed around 1:00 a.m. (the earliest I've gone to bed in a long time, excluding my few days of being sick). Today I pulled out my spring clothes--shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops--to celebrate the arrival of momentary warm weather. We ate out at Olive Garden for Ams' birthday: fantastic mussels! I do enjoy Seafood. I've eaten so much seafood in the last month: two visits to Red Lobster and then mussels today, and toss in some random shrimp from Lone Star and some seafood from a Chinese restaurant. I need to go to Maine and eat lobster right off the boat. Wow, that would be nice. But I'm stuck in stupid Ohio.

Tomorrow I leave for Washington, D.C. I'm pretty excited.

I've been reading N.T. Wright's "Simply Christian." Everyone should read it, I think. It's almost as amazing as Dallas Willard's "The Divine Conspiracy." Some theologians have been calling N.T. Wright's work "the next Mere Christianity".

I realize that I stopped midway through my exploration of salvation. Expect that to restart soon. Also expect my book review of "Do You Want To Be Healed" to begin soon, chapter-by-chapter. I want to use my blog as a study for books I'm reading, writing little summaries, reviews, and quotations from each chapter on my blog weekly. I'm going to use a controversial book next: "Your Best Life Now" by Joel Olsteen. My aunt really likes him, so I'm going to see what I like and dislike about his book before I rain down condemnation ("Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover").

Some friends and I went to see the movie "300" on Saturday, but it was so good that I went to see it again this afternoon :). I can't tell you how fantastic the movie is. Maybe it's the digital effects ("Sin City" caught my eye), maybe it's the great acting (the actor playing King Leonidas is fantastic), or maybe it's just that it's about an ancient battle (I love ancient history, especially ancient military history; countless books of this nature occupy my shelves). Whatever the reason, I find this movie very enjoyable. I'm definitely buying it when it comes out, and I'm listening to the soundtrack on my computer right now (purchased with birthday money from my grandparents).

My spring break has gone pretty well so far. Saturday I was still a little sick, so I just lied around and watched television most of the day. I woke up around 10:00 on Sunday, but I felt sick so I did not go to church. I felt better later on, so I went to Starbucks and hammered out a few pages on my new novel. Amanda and Tom were there, and Megan and Jackie stopped by. I sat and talked with them for a while, then continued my writing. Amanda's English teacher wants me to come and speak in front of the class about creative writing; I told her I'd love to do it. There's something to look forward to.

On Wednesday I am leaving for Washington, D.C. I plan on spending most of the time to write, and I also want to walk The Mall and visit a few museums. I'll take a lot of pictures, and I might post some on here if they're any good. We'll see what happens. I'm looking forward to the plane ride; hopefully I have a window-seat, those are the best.

Here's a screen-shot from the movie. The actors play their roles with an amazing ferocity:

Mom sent me this picture over email, wishing me a happy twentieth birthday. I really like it :). My birthday went pretty well: one easy class, followed by lunch with Trista, then Nate and I went to Clifton by U.C. to visit a coffee house, drink coffee, and chat things up. Trista, Courtney and I went for a random drive that lasted about an hour, laughing without cause the entire way. Candace and I went to Barnes & Nobles, then Jessica and Monica joined us for a fun time at Applebee's.

I finally started work on a book I've been wanting to write for a while. Chapter One clocked out in its rough draft at around 50 pages; I'm really excited, because the sequencing and dialogue are authentic and genuine: they smack of realism. The book should be pretty long; it's my most complicated one yet. I might turn it into a trilogy. Who knows? I am going to spend a lot of time working on it this week. It feels really great to get back to writing.

Sadly, I woke up Friday morning feeling absolutely horrible. I puked all over the place and spent the rest of the day in bed. I'm feeling much better now, but I'm not at 100% yet. If I make any sudden movements, my stomach begins to church and bubble. I'm going to get as much sleep as possible tonight to aid the healing process.

Over the past few months, I gained 40 pounds. I am confident that this is because of all the depression: I became apathetic and simply did not care about my weight. Now, however, I want to return to a healthy lifestyle (and that includes finally purging smoking; that's going to be hard).

I found this pretty cool testimony online that is really encouraging to me. Check it out here.

While I don’t want to go into detail, something happened today that made me realize that there is hope for me. Swimming the great ocean of manic-depression is a constant battle; it often feels as if I’m leaping hurdles around a track without time to stop for breath, take a quick break for my legs, or even get a sip of water. At times it is tempting to give up and drown under the waves, embracing resignation, but when those moments seem to be on the threshold, something happens—an event, a memory, a thought, a comforting word. Are these designed by God, whispers of His heart into mine, propelling me on the race of endurance? Is it God encouraging, “Don’t give up, Anthony. I have so much in store for you. But you have to be patient and wait.”? I don’t have any answers. All I know is that in my darkest hours, there are moments when fuel sparks my engine, and my arms carry me through the tossing, turning waves with a renewed energy. Something of this sort took place today, and a refined energy runs through me. There is a shore in the distance, and though I cannot see it, I continue to swim, trusting God in His promise that a golden shore ripe with coconuts and palm trees and whispering white sands await me.

I have been doing a lot of thinking and praying lately, and I believe much of the pain that I feel regarding those past relationships—especially the one with Julie—stems not from me still liking Julie (for if she came crawling back to me, I would not take her back), but from a root of bitterness within me. During the months of initial suffering, I erected a wall of bitterness towards some people involved in the ordeal, and now this bitterness is consuming me. It paralyzes me, suffocates me, strangles me. It is literally killing me inside-out. A bitterness has been draped over my life like a veil, turning everything dark and gloomy. “How do I rid of this bitterness? How do I come to true forgiveness and escape? How do I truly leave this behind me?” I cannot move on until the bitterness is gone. I want to forgive very badly, but I struggle with this concept so much.

I just thought of something: through all of this, God has really been teaching me a lot about myself. Hmmm… Each day it seems like He shows me something else about me or something else in my life that needs to change. A friend told me, “Maybe Satan is throwing all of this at you because you’re on the verge of something great, and he doesn’t want you to experience it.” Well, God has a tendency to take Satan’s attacks and turn them out for good (Satan may be clever, but God is even more clever). So while Satan is attacking me, God is working on me. It’s quite counterproductive for the enemy.

While I was working, Caleb came in and could tell that something was wrong. He can tell when the manic-depressive states hit; something in my face and eyes change. Monica notices it, too; she said, "The other day, at the table, you were smiling... but the rest of your body language wasn't." He asked me what was wrong, and I told him, "I feel so ashamed of myself. I feel rotten and dirty and worthless." Caleb asked why I felt this way. I told him, "I look at my life, and I see all the changes I need to make. I'm bitter towards people, I'm selfish and greedy, I'm a dick sometimes. I want to be a man of integrity. A godly man. But it's like it's so... intangible." On top of all this, the fact that I'm taking medicine for manic-depression sometimes makes me feel "lower" than other people, like I'm subhuman or something, and that sucks.

I actually wrote yesterday's post sometime last week. Yesterday itself was quite enjoyable. I got to spend lots of quality time with many friends whom I haven't hung out with in a while: Monica, Jessica, A.J., Candace, and Rochelle to name a few. We played volleyball, a few card games, hung out in the coffee shop, then went to Applebee's for dinner.

Trista and I hung out, too. She said something really interesting: "There is a time of mourning we go through when things happen that we don't like, but there comes a time when we just need to accept the past and embrace the future. Sometimes we become so accustomed to mourning that it becomes a lifestyle. We mourn to mourn." Does that make sense? It makes sense to me, and in all honesty, it's rather humbling. Am I mourning just to mourn? Sure, I have issues on my plate that I need to deal with. But is what happened with Sonja, Julie, and Jessica something that should consume me? Or am I letting it consume me for ulterior reasons, such as the attention and love it gets me from other people? These are blunt questions I must ask myself, and I must give blunt answers.

I've done a lot of thinking lately, and it really is time for me to pick up my bags and walk out of those relationships. Sonja, Julie, and Jessica have walked out... I'm still standing at the door, knocking, waiting for a reply, even though I know no replies are coming. I can sit out on the stoop, hang my head low, and wait for a miracle... Or I can embrace reality and believe that things will get better... But before they do, I have to get off that stoop. I have to abandon the stoop of self-pity, walking into a mysterious world where I don't know what's around each corner. It's a scary thought; part of me wants to remain behind in these broken relationships, holding onto everything I can. But at the same time, I hear the tender whispers of God: "I have better for you. But you won't experience the better things I have for you if you sit here in this rut. You need to get out." He's offering me a hand, offering to help me out. I'm not alone.

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm ok
But that's not what gets me

I’ve had lots of time this week to get off campus and drive around. I’ve been all over: Eden Park, U.C., Newport and Covington. I’ve gone downtown and perused the streets beside the stadiums. Last night I lied awake listening to the thunder coming in through the open window. Some days are easy, some days are hard. Sometimes the smiles and the laughter is real, but sometimes it is something surreal, a mask I wear to hide the feelings and emotions, everything going on within me. It’s on these random drives throughout the Cincinnati area and lying wide-awake at night despite exhaustion that the pain becomes the worst. It’s when the memories assault me, blanketing my every move. A knot forms in my throat and tears well up in my eyes.

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin' to do

This is the pain: for all my life, I’ve been a “hopeless romantic.” I remember standing on the deck outside my home last summer and explaining it to her this way: “I don’t want sex or making out. I just want someone to talk with, someone to hold close, a girl who doesn’t shiver at my sight but draws close. Do you know how much it hurts to see girls awkwardly pull away from you? Do you know how many times my friends have been hugged by girls—even at church—but the same girls ignore me, give me the cold shoulder, or at least stomach their uneasiness and give me a gentle handshake? It kills me. I want a girl to find comfort in my arms, but I don’t think it will ever come. When she cries, I want to hold her. When I cry, I want her to hold me. I am a romantic shunned, looking around and seeing sex-mongers, cheating the romance out of girls, leaving them hollow, slutty shells. The rape of all good and true. I want a girl so badly, a genuine and authentic, loving and cherished, a beautiful and captivating girl to find refuge in my arms, to cry no more. I want to go to candlelit dinners, to hold her by a fire, to feed off her warmth under the stars, to whisper in her ear, ‘It will be okay.’” I paused a moment, then said, “Why is it so elusive?”

When the semester came, I met a great girl. I told Caleb, “She’s the most wonderful, beautiful, amazing girl I have ever met!” We talked for a while and started dating. She was everything I’d always wanted in a girl. She was the first girl I’ve ever loved. Yes. I loved her. Sometimes I wonder if I still love her. I remember thinking, “I’m going to marry this girl.” That thought thrilled me. How could God grant me such grace? I wondered. And the day I fell to my knees and thanked God for answering my prayers, she told me, “I’ve lost my feelings for you.” She was heartbroken because of the break-up, but her tears have dried up. Mine continue to flow. My heart aches all the time. It’s so painful, being so close to my dream, having so much to say to her—“I love you. I want to be with you forever. I want to build a family with you.”—and then watching her walk away, watching the relationship shatter. I wonder what I did wrong, how I messed up. I am furious at myself for my mistakes. I made mistakes, yes, but I loved that girl. I didn’t know what I was doing, I was trying to be the good boyfriend, but I was flying blind. As I visit the haunts where we had spent time together, my mind carries me to wild yet uncontrollable conjectures: “What could I have done better? How could I have shown my love to her better? Maybe then it would have worked out. Maybe then life would be beautiful.”

It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I'm doin' It
It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin' with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken

Everywhere I go, I walk down the dark streets where memories dwell. I stumble upon their dwelling-places and they creep into my mind. It’s a difficult battle: fighting off the emotions, the feelings, the questions, the doubts… A struggle against the pain. It’s hard to smile when I see her with my friends: it returns to me the memories when we were all together and everything was great, and I smile and act happy but inside, I am dying. I go about my daily routine—getting up, getting dressed—but regret haunts me. “Why couldn’t I have been everything she wanted? Why couldn’t I make her happy? Why couldn’t I be the boy she wanted me to be? How come I wasn’t adequate enough for her?” I wish I would have begged her to try and work through the problems. I wish I could have told her, “I love you,” and heard her whisper it back. But that’s not how it worked out. That’s not how it’s going to work out.