the dayton days [42]

Monday. I worked 5:30-1:00 with lots of great people and had Chipotle for lunch. Aunt Teri, Grandma & I got pizza for dinner and devoured some ice cream. "You're not losing anymore weight, are you?" Aunt Teri quipped.

Tuesday. Our D.T. machine's broken, and it sucks to have only one bar during rushes. Aunt Teri, Grandma & I got dinner at China Cottage before they headed home. Dylan came over; he's been accepted into the Peace Corps, and we drank beers to celebrate. 

Wednesday. Tyler came over this evening, and we went to The Rusty Bucket for beers and hummus. I was pretty buzzed by the time we left, so he drove us home. Dylan met up with us and we drank Killian's Irish Red on the front porch.

Thursday. Dad & I checked out Dewenter's car today, the one he says I might be able to buy. Dad said it looked in decent shape, so we drove it home. Doug's letting us have it for $150 over the next seven months. 

Friday. I had the day off, so I slept in, made a French Press, and spent the day writing. I ran to DLM for groceries, picked up a couple ales Josh from work recommended. 

Saturday. After an easy opening shift, Dewenter and I grabbed lunch at China Cottage. At 3:00 I had a work meeting at Milano's. Ams came into town: we hung out on the front porch, I sported my new car, and she talked about how the Cincinnati House Church has gone downhill because Isaac wants to be a philosopher. 

Sunday. I dreamt that Kyle & Courtney, and Tim & Julie, came to my house and mocked me for being a failure at life. Quite depressing. The "nightmare" woke me at 6:30 AM and I smoked a cigarette and watched the sunrise and went to Spring Valley at 7:00 for some espresso. I spent the day thinking about life and quickly became depressed. A foretaste of winter (tell me again why I want to go to Alaska?) and in my weakness I talked to Clare--didn't say anything foolish, thank God--and told her that "everything feels so hopeless and empty." Mom came home bearing gifts from Kentucky: she found me a pair of $150 shoes for $1.50. Ams found a nest of baby mice and almost killed them, broke into tears. Dewenter came over and we played Wii before he went to his grandpa's.

a nightmare

Last night I dreamt two of my exes, both married now, showed up at my house and began mocking how I hadn't even come close to achieving any of my dreams. I woke up depressed and couldn't go back to sleep so I went out onto the front porch and smoked a cigarette and drank French-pressed Breakfast Blend and watched the sunrise. I went to work when they opened and got six shots espresso and finished "After You Believe" by N.T. Wright (review coming soon!) and felt much better. I don't think about any of them anymore. I dated Julie four years ago and Courtney three years ago. I haven't talked to any of them in ages (though I sat next to Courtney at a recent wedding; we didn't talk nor even look at one another, it was as if we'd never even met). I don't know why these dreams are accosting me. They're sad and they make me sad, but at least the sadness disperses once the sun rises. I really wish the dreams would stop, or at least be replaced by something better: zombies or werewolves or aliens. Those dreams are always exciting and I wake up energized.

I finished "Chapter 12" in my book this morning (seeing as I was wired by 8:00 with everyone else sleeping). Apparently the caffeine lurched me from my lack of inspiration and energy regarding the book. Now it's only 10:00 and I only have a handful of things to do: clean my room, clean out my car, maybe eat lunch while watching "Parks and Recreation." My room is cluttered, and I can't stand it. A cluttered room makes me feel as if my life is cluttered. It's symptomatic of cluttered thoughts, thoughts generally about my current state-of-affairs and how I want things to change. I've written a lot about this lately--epitomized in countless journal entries regarding hope--and I'm going to share a few of them on here this week. "Bear my soul," you could say. It's all good and well. I don't mind being transparent. As many people may scold me for it, countless others are encouraged and strengthened. And if God is allowing me to go through this time in my life, and if he has also endowed me with a talent for writing, then I'd better put two and two together and perhaps advance his kingdom, albeit in small and barely discernible ways. 

Bell's Christmas Ale

This week's seasonal beer: Bell's Christmas Ale. The color is a hazy dark copper with a decent foamy head. Currents of toffee and malts (not a big toffee fan, but I'm okay with it), spruce and floral hops. The more you savor it, the more you can detect caramel and hazelnut. It's a medium body with a lingering, hoppy finish. Unlike last week's beer, the Great Lakes Christmas Ale, this beer doesn't have any real spice. I like the ginger in the Great Lakes beer, it's definitely something different. All in all, though, I like this beer. I wish I could get some Alaskan Brewing Company beer but they don't sell on the east coast :(. I'm hopefully getting an Alaskan Brewing Co. stein for Christmas. That would be so awesome.

I worked a lot today. A six hour shift, followed by a break (Dewenter and I grabbed China Cottage and then went back to my place to play some Mario Kart), and then a work meeting at Milano's from 3-5:00. Afterwards I spent time with Amanda, who's in town. We sat on the front porch and smoked a little bit and then went inside and nailed Mario-Kart pretty hard (the enticing language is enticing me to more Mario-Kart). Tomorrow I plan on going to church, of course, and then spending the day finishing (hopefully) Chapter 12 in "Re:framing Repentance." Right now it's at 9 pages. There's some stuff going on in my life--nothing exciting, I assure you--that I wish to write, but I have a headache so I'm going to go watch "Parks and Rec" and hopefully fall asleep on the sofa. It'll be good.

parks and rec

I've fallen in love with yet another television show: Parks & Recreation. It's made by the same people who are involved with "The Office" except, well, it's better. The Office has lost its steam but Parks & Rec just gets better and better. The characters are hilarious, the storylines impeccable, and Aubrey Plaza is a Grade-A fox. So how did I spend my day off? Parks and Rec. I watched about fifteen, maybe twenty episodes, taking a break for a coffee run, hitting up the bank in preparation for the weekend, and getting some Chipotle. I'm looking forward to this weekend: a short shift tomorrow (6:30-12:15) followed by a short work meeting 3-5:00 at Milano's. I just remembered that, must not forget. Dad is having a bunch of high school guys over for "Discipleship Weekend" and Amanda is coming into town tonight (though we won't be able to hang out till tomorrow evening after we're both done with work). I'm looking forward to spending time with her tomorrow night and Sunday.

I did some work on "Re:framing Repentance" but am pretty exhausted with it. I'm 2/3 done, and I've reached a point where I'm running out of steam. I know I should take a step back, but I literally have to force myself to do that. I'm a weird sort of workaholic, but only on things that take a lot of effort, have little fruit, and don't make me any money. Perhaps my priorities need to be shaken up a bit. Regardless, when I commit to something--at least, a writing project--I commit 100%, and being this close to done with the first rough draft makes me want to just drink lots of coffee, get little sleep, and drive the book to the ground. But I know that my writing will be affected if I do that, and I know that there's still so much work that needs to be done that the best bet would be to just step back, take a breath, enjoy some time off, and then get right back into the game. 

re:framing repentance, part IV

My book on repentance continues to slowly come together. I'm 2/3 of the way through, at 449 pages manuscript-style (it'd be around 240 pages publication). The book is divided into three parts: (1) laying the groundwork for defining repentance, (2) defining repentance, and (3) looking at the practice of repentance. Tomorrow I hope to knock out the first chapter (Ch. 12) of the last third of the book. The layout of the second section looks like this:

Chapter Six: Repentance: False Trails (8 pgs). This chapter is about three popular misconceptions regarding repentance. (1) repentance as feeling sorry for sin, (2) repentance as simply changing one's mind about Jesus, and (3) repentance as the actual change of behavior.

Chapter Seven: The Meaning of Repentance (20 pgs). With the misconceptions out of the way, in Chapter Seven I define repentance as turning from love of self/idols to love of God. 

Chapter Eight: Repentance & Loving God (8 pgs). This chapter takes some of the principles laid down in Chapter Seven and expands upon them, first and foremost the question of what it means to love God. I contrast love of self/the world with love of God, examining both in the context of how they are revealed in one's life. This leads to the conclusion that loving God is basically the same thing as devotion to God. This chapter is actually an essay, rewritten and revised, that I wrote back in February this year.

Chapter Nine: Repentance & Faith (21 pgs). This chapter is one of the longest of the book, and I'm shocked that I literally wrote it in a single night (from 9:00 PM to 3:00 AM). I define faith in Christ as commitment, loyalty, and allegiance to Christ. This is the chapter I'm most proud of, and it serves as a sort of framework for the next book on this series, "Re:framing Faith." At the end of this chapter I bring the threads of the last two chapters--repentance and loving God--into a coherent shape. Loving God means being devoted to him. Devotion speaks of loyalty and allegiance. Thus repentance is the decision to put one's loyalty and allegiance in God, revealed in Jesus Christ. That's a really brief summary, but I take it quite thoroughly and step-by-step in the chapter.

Chapter Ten: The Consequences of Repentance (43 pgs). While Chapter Nine is one of the longest of the book, Chapter Ten whoops all the others in its length. I didn't intend for this chapter to be so long, and despite much summarizing, it still turned out being the longest. This chapter examines the consequences of repentance/not repenting--and I mean "consequences" as the results of something, not necessarily negative results as the term often connote. I examined what one could expect, temporally and eschatologically, if he or she repented (or didn't repent).

Chapter Eleven: The Choice of Repentance (24 pgs). This is one of the weakest chapters, I'll admit, but it is still integral to the book, and it has its high points (I'm too much of a perfectionist sometimes). Here I look at several reasons why people choose to repent and several reasons why people choose not to repent. I also tackle the question of predestination/free will and the role of the Holy Spirit in the decision to repent. 

With the second section done, I'm eager to launch into the last part of the book, though I know this will be the most difficult. I'm not too good with practical things. Give me abstractions and concepts, and I'll excel. Give me concrete, pragmatic things, and I'll end up confused and, most often, physically injured. I'm still trying to decipher a coherent manner of piecing together the last third of the book. So far each chapter has built upon the next, the book barreling along like a sweltering crescendo; but there are so many interwoven themes and different angles of approach that such a process would just leave the reader in a cesspool of confusion. *sigh* I'm sure I'll figure it out. 

the rusty bucket

Tyler and I went to The Rusty Bucket for dinner. He had a burger and I had a Great Lakes Christmas Ale with some hummus. We had great conversation about (a) life, (b) ministry, and (c) girls. I felt pretty buzzed by the time we were done--the good beer coupled with eating barely anything today turned me into a sort of lightweight--so I had him drive us back to my place. Dylan met up with us there and we finished the night off with some Killian's and enjoyed the beautiful weather on the front porch. It was a great evening. I've really developed a taste for beer lately, but not for the cheap, watered-down smut known as Lite beers. Not a big Miller or Bud fan. The last time I went to Rusty Bucket was when I first moved home. Dylan and I met up for some drinks--he had a Great Lakes and I had a double shot of bourbon. At the time I was an emotional wreck, dealing with all sorts of hell from every direction. I remember the night perfectly: crisp and cold, with scattered clouds, snowflakes sprinkling. Those were the days I would drink Nyquil to fall asleep at night because otherwise the stress would keep me awake (I'd drink half a bottle a night!). After we went to Rusty Bucket back in February we went across the lot to the bookstore and perused maps of Alaska and I dreamt of Alaska, escaping to that far-away and beautiful land, and Dylan cornered me and said, "Things are going to get better for you, man. I just know they are." Things continue to get better. God continues to bless me. I'm thankful for where I'm at and thankful for his forgiveness when I'm ungrateful for all that he's given me. And now a snapshot of our conversation on the porch:

Me: "Do you think animals will eat each other in the new heavens and new earth?"

Dylan: "There won't be any animals. Because they don't have souls."

Me: "Are you just saying shit to piss me off?"

Dylan: "Yeah."

my family, a car, and the peace corps

My aunt and grandma came into town Sunday through today, and we enjoyed some good laughs and some good food. Chipotle and pizza (and some ice cream) yesterday and China Cottage today. All of it so good yet so bad. I need to kick my butt in gear to keep stable at 135 pounds. The last thing I want to do is slip into my old habits. Looks like my diet will consist of eggs, grilled fish, and vegetables the rest of the week. It's a good thing I actually like all that. 

I may be getting a new car by the end of the week. I'm pretty certain I will, actually. My good friend Patrick is hooking me up with one of his family's car. A 1992 Celica in pretty decent shape; wonderful shape compared to my beat-up, rusted-out hulk of metal known as my Geo Prizm. My car isn't even safe enough to be on the road but yet I drive it. The entire undercarriage is rusted out and I continually hear pieces of it falling out while I'm driving. The mechanic (two of them, actually) said one day the undercarriage will just completely fall out and my car will be toast. "Don't drive it!" they said, but I have a job and there isn't bus transportation in the suburbs. So I'm very thankful that this opportunity for a new car has arisen and am praying that it'll work out. Hopefully by this time next week it'll be in my hands. I remember when I got my new Prizm. It was a nice car back then; but that was three years ago (three and a half) and much has gone wrong with it since.

Dylan got accepted into the Peace Corps. As long as everything goes to plan, he'll be shipping out to sub-Saharan Africa to do HIV/AIDS awareness work. He's pretty pumped, and the peace corps sounds like a pretty great gig. I remember wanting to do it when I graduated high school, but my plans were sideswiped by a call to vocational ministry. Turns out that I wouldn't even be accepted, since I'm diagnosed bipolar. Ah well. At least I didn't waste time pursuing it. I'm excited for him, super excited, and envious, too (note last blog post). He came over this evening after work and we shared some Great Lakes Christmas Ale in celebration. He'd never had it before and was greatly impressed. Sadly all the Ale is gone now, but I may pick some up tomorrow after work.