thanksgiving, part III

It's quite popular, on Thanksgiving, to say what you're thankful for. So I guess I'll be unoriginal and, after examining my life, give a few things I'm thankful for.

My Family. But of course! I have been extremely blessed with wonderful parents and an amazing sister. I'm more lucky than I know to have loving parents who are still together and an excellent relationship with my little sister. We're best friends. And not only that, but I have great relationships with my extended family. Both my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my cousins. I'm so thankful for all of them. If it weren't for my family, then I wouldn't be here. And I don't mean that just in the biological sense; when I was at the "end of my rope," so-to-speak, many years ago, it was my baby sister who kept me pressing forward, and it was my parents who kept me from taking my own life. I am so thankful for the love and support they've given me.

My Friends. A very close second. My Junior year of college, nearly all of my friends abandoned me. I would spend the evenings in my dorm room, doing absolutely nothing. Long drives through the Cincinnati cold with the sleeting rains and the headlights on the freeways. My senior year, God blessed me with countless, innumerable friendships that continue to this day. It was then that I met my best friend Jessie, and it was then that I reconnected with Rob and Mandy. I became friends with Gambill, and I had a crush on a cute Thai girl named Faikham. Blake and I met and hit it off pretty well, and now I want to be him. I moved back home and rekindled old friendships--Patrick, Dylan and Tyler, Pat and Ashlie--and made new friends: Carly, Jessica, Kyle, J.J., etc. I am thankful for all my great friendships, the support and Christian community I find in them, and the laughter and love shared over healthy dinners and good beer.

My Job. I may make barely above minimum-wage, but God gave me my dream-job. Making coffee, great co-workers and friends, always fun times. I really do enjoy my job more than I've enjoyed any other job. I could get a better job, a higher-paying job, but I love the place I work now. I don't intend on making a career out of it, but it's a good place to be right now as I seek to discover what to do with the rest of my life.

My God. It's so cliche to say "I'm thankful for God!" but I really am. A lot of people just say it because, as Christians, they're sure they need to be thankful for him. When I say I'm thankful for God, I mean it in a concrete way. My God has comforted me time and time again. My God has convicted me, corrected me, encouraged me, guided me. My God has answered some of my greatest prayers, again and again: he brought me friendships in my darkest moments, he delivered me out of the hell epitomized in that dumpster behind the Clifton bar, and he has used the trials and tribulations of my life to not only draw me closer to him but to intensify my trust and hope in him. My God is a God of grace, mercy, and love; a God who grants forgiveness more than I want forgiveness; a God who, time and time again, inclines his ear to my cries and delivers me from the mire and clay. Some people worship gods of stone and straw; some people worship the gods of Freud, Nietzsche, and Marx (sex, power, and money); some people worship the gods of self-indulgence and self-gratification. My God demands self-sacrifice and a crucifixion of the flesh, but he delivers life whereas all these other gods deliver deepening dehumanization and ultimate destruction. 

thanksgiving, part II

Work went by quickly, due to the insane rushes followed by periods of dead time when we tasked our little hearts out. I made myself a venti soy latte and headed northeast under gray skies to Thanksgiving lunch with dad's side of the family. The lunch was at noon, and I got there around 3:00; Mom saved me some leftovers. My cousin Megan brought her two-year old girl, Cate, and she was adorable. She can walk now--more-so stumble than walk, but still--and we had a heckuva time playing with her. It makes me realize--or, rather, remember--how much I want to have kids someday. And by "someday" I mean later rather than sooner. The only person I've seriously wanted, in all sincerity and selflessness, to build a family with has built her own, and I'm totally okay with that. Celebrating it, even. My point is that I have pretty high standards when it comes to girls. I'm not obsessed about how a girl looks; it's her character, personality, etc. that really matter to me. And I can be pretty picky when it comes to that stuff. On most Thanksgivings I feel quite gloomy, remembering all the fruitless hopes and dreams, the broken promises, the shattered ambitions. But this Thanksgiving I enjoyed the laughter of a little girl and knew that, in all probability, one day I'll have my own, and she (or he) will be the world to me. So this Thanksgiving I celebrate and am future for the future. And even if my dream of being a husband and a father doesn't come to pass, that doesn't mean life is a waste. It's strange, but I now know that more than ever. Hopefully I can just keep that in the back of my mind. We are such foolish creatures. Here's a photograph taken today of my family and me:

thanksgiving, part I

Aunt Teri and Grandma rolled into town evening after being broken-down on Interstate 75 in the pouring rain. They came inside and slipped into their pajamas and got warm by the fireplace. That seems to be the thing to do. When I got home from work, I went straight into my pajamas, ignited a fire in the hearth, grabbed a Killian's, and drank a bit before my own solo Thanksgiving dinner: two baked potatoes, some grilled Mahi-Mahi, and sauteed mushrooms. Tomorrow I work till 2:30 and then I'm driving north to spend time with Dad's side of the family for the tail-end of the party (which begins at 10:00, when I'll be just halfway done with my shift). I wish I could make it to the whole thing, but at least I have the weekend off, when I can spend time with Mom's side of the family. My cousin's boxer Boozer is coming to the party at the house. It'll be interesting to see how he reacts to Maebe, and vice versa. 

Usually I don't like the holidays, but this year I'm actually looking forward to them. Last year I wrote quite a depressing post entitled "i hate the holidays." Much of it stemmed from the timing of the holidays in relation to certain events that had transpired just prior (i.e. the only girl I've ever loved getting married to the man with whom she cheated on me). But now, a year later, I can take a deep breath and thank God for all that he has done, the prayers that he has answered. He delivered me from the hell that manifested itself behind that dumpster in Clifton. He enabled me to find a great car for a great price, through the selfless generosity of a friend, right at the last moment. He brought me a job when I couldn't handle unemployment, and it was the type of job I'd been yearning for: good friends, good customers, and making coffee. While this year has shared its own disappointments, there is a certain brightness present that hasn't been present before. Or, perhaps, I am just perceiving the brightness, for the first time, that has always been there--the brightness of hope and thanksgiving, a brightness that is but a flame, but with praise and prayer can swell into a raging wildfire. I digress, and say this: I'm thankful for all that God has done for me--and in me--and this Thanksgiving I'll celebrate his love, grace, and generosity even to a creature as selfish, prideful, and sinful as me. 

12 Dogs of Christmas

This week's Christmas Ale is from Thirsty Dog Brewing Company: the 12 Dogs of Christmas. It's not as good as the Great Lakes Christmas Ale, but it's close. This ale is laden with all sorts of spices: cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg--basically the only spices we have at the cafe that I never use--and is tinted with a mild honey flavor. It's pretty malty, but apparently Thirsty Dog is known for malted barleys. This would be the perfect beer for Christmas dinner, or sitting by the fireplace reading a good book. All in all, a high quality beer. I'll probably by another six-pack for Thanksgiving dinner this weekend. If I'm lucky, my family will only steal five from the packaging.

This week looks like it's going to be a rough one. I work 8 1/2 hour shifts for the next three days, and amidst all of that, I'm juggling family Thanksgiving events. Thanksgiving dinner with Dad's side of the family is at noon this Thursday, but since I work till 2:00, and because it's an hour-drive from here, I won't get there till about 3:00, just in time to pick off a few leftovers, of which there will probably hardly be any, but that's totally fine. It's better for my health if I'm not sitting around the table for an hour and a half with giant plates heaping with country home-cooked food being passed around. Friday evening Mom's family is coming into town, and I'm working that night (Black Fridays, I hear, are nightmares at work). I have the weekend off (because I asked for it off), and on Saturday we're having our Thanksgiving dinner, and on Sunday we'll just be spending time with the family. Daily humdrum life will resume come Monday, and then in a few weeks, the Christmas madness will begin. I enjoy seeing family all throughout the season, but sometimes all of the events, activities, and Christmas shopping can be overwhelming. I'll be glad once January 1st rolls around. 

a good weekend

The last two days have been pretty great. Sunday morning I skipped church and went to visit my great friend Jess Lynn at the Oakwood Starbucks, where she's "temping" for the next several weeks. They were swamped, so sadly I didn't get to spend time with her on a non-existent break, but I did get a lot of research done for the next chapter in "Re:framing Repentance." I've been wrestling with the layout for the next several (and final) chapters of the book, and I decided to take what would've been three chapters and condense them into two. Much of the next chapter involves the doctrines of regeneration and sanctification, and how they play into the whole repentance ordeal. Most of my studying at Starbucks came from Wayne Grudem's systematic theology; while I'm not Calvinist, I'm not the type who only wants to learn from people I agree with (this would be difficult, too, seeing as my views are quite varied; theologically, I'm a mutt). I love Grudem's analyses, and I also enjoy (and I may be one of the few) Jack Cottrell, who is a theologian on the other side of the fence. I like elements of what they both have to say but tend to ride the fence. If the grass is greener on either side, then I can just be a part of both!

Sunday evening Dylan and Dewenter came over, and we went to D.L.M. and got fresh fish patties from Dylan's friend, and we grilled them up with mushrooms and baked potatoes (I make killer baked potatoes; I studied all sorts of different recipes and came up with my own), and then we sat on the porch and enjoyed some 12 Dogs of Christmas Ale. I like it almost as much as I like the Great Lakes Christmas Ale (I'm doing a gauntlet of Christmas beers, and I'll have a review on 12 Dogs shortly--the ones thus far have been the Great Lakes and the Bell's). This evening Dylan's brother Tyler and I went to Starbucks, where I gave him my markout (I have way too many already lining my shelves, need to share the benefits), and after visiting with a few people, we went out to dinner at Milano's. We both got subs, though I got a salad instead of fries and a Killian's to polish it all off.

Tomorrow should be good. I get to work with lots of great people, and then I'm going to hit up the gym, have an omelette for dinner, and then spend the evening hopefully researching regeneration and sanctification (right now I perceive regeneration as the launching-pad for sanctification; the two go hand-in-glove but aren't the same thing; hopefully my perception will be at the least tweaked, or what's the purpose?). I'm the kind of person who enjoys puzzles and mysteries, and studying the scriptures is like that. I like to try to piece everything together, although it's a catch-22, because once you think you've got something figured out, it just opens a whole new can of worms for something else. Nevertheless, it's a good journey, and I am excited about the prospect--no, the guarantee--of my theological perceptions and persuasions being tweaked and revamped. 

the dayton days [43]

the civil war reenactors were the best

Monday. Dylan came over, and we took the new car for a spin. Toyota Celica. 1992. A beauty. The headlights flip up! Ams says the car looks too cool for me. "If you squint in low light, it looks like it's a miata," I said. "And it's a two-seater." Except it just has two doors and five seats. Dylan headed home (he'll be in Tennessee all week).

Tuesday. I had a weird noon-4:00 shift, training on our new Symphony POS system. I made a kickass dinner back home: ham, potatoes, baked beans, and beer bread. A family dinner, the first in a long time. Jess Lynn called, gave me the scoop on Sean, a boy she's kinda dating. It sounds like he's playing her, so I just told her to be careful. 

Wednesday. Winter depresses me, and I ate like shit. I had Friday plans with Jess Lynn (she's in town all week working at Oakwood), but they were cancelled: I have an interview with Tazza Mia at 10:30 AM that morning. No positions are yet available, but Rob's been talking me up, and he wants to get a feel for me. Work is decked out in Christmas decor, and it's pretty cheery. Someone's stealing money from the store. I can't imagine any of my coworkers doing it, but I've watched enough Law & Order to know you can never be sure. Sarah's going to a show at LaComedia this week, said she'll hang out with me beforehand. We'll see how that goes. There was an ADORABLE girl at work tonight. Old-fashioned, doing homework, reading her bible. So hot. And, yes, she was in college.

Thursday. Sarah likes my new car. Hell, everyone does. We ate dinner and chatted it up and then she left. Tomorrow's my interview with Bob. I really hope it goes well. Rob called, gave me some pointers. He said Bob may have a full-time position to fill. I don't want to get my hopes up, but the thought of moving back to Cincinnati and being with everyone, especially Ams, makes my pulse quicken.

Friday. I woke around 7:30, spent some time in prayer before the interview, and then drove down to Cincinnati, parked at Fountain Square. The interview was at the Vine Street location, just up the road. A nice, cold, rainy November walk. It's autumn, after all. The interview went really well, but he could only offer part-time, and I need full-time. Oh well. I visited Rob at the other Tazza Mia in Carew Tower; he agrees I should stay in Dayton for the time being. "People are in and out of here, a full-time position will become available, I'm sure." I returned home, picked up sushi from DLM. I got pretty depressed, feeling gridlocked and poor and hopeless. You know: the usual.

Saturday. I had a good breakfast, cereal & toast, before my 9-5:00 shift. Jessica was upset I traded shifts with Betsy last week: "You're my only strong bar, the strong barista, and you bailed on me on one of our busiest mornings!" Tony & I talked about our dream homes. Honestly, I'd be content with a small apartment, sparse furniture, and a loving wife. After work Dewenter & I met up with Hank & Ashlie for the traditional "Christmas in Springboro" on Main Street (we skipped the parade). We got bourbon chicken for dinner, sipped hot chocolate, and petted goats; but the Civil War reenactors camped outside Hank & Ashlie's apartment were the best. I set up my Christmas tree in my room, and Ams came into town and we smoked on the front porch and went to bed.

Sunday. A heavy mist fell overnight that dawn wouldn't crack. Very eerie. I spent the morning at the Oakwood Starbucks visiting Jess Lynn & researching sanctification. I picked up groceries on the way home, and Dylan came over and we went to DLM and fixed dinner: fish, mushrooms, baked potatoes. He told me all about his Tennessee trip. Dewenter joined us after Ams left, and we had a few beers.

"After You Believe"

N.T. Wright's "After You Believe" is the third in his trilogy which started off with "Simply Christian." In "Simply Christian" he laid down, in layman's terms, the foundation of the Christian faith, as well as incorporating some apologetics. In the second book, "Surprised By Hope," Wright looked at Christian eschatology--a.k.a. "The End Times"--from a covenantal rather than dispensational angle, following an analysis of Christian life and mission in light of that eschatology. In this third book, everything he wrote before comes to a head in his discussion regarding Christian ethics and the Christian life. Ultimately the book is written two address two issues: "How ought a Christian behave?" and "How does a Christian get to that point?" It's the question of Christian ethics as well as the question of how to actually live by Christian ethics. 

Much of the book is his analysis of Aristotle's ethic reworked around Jesus. Aristotle's concept of virtue is taken up by the early Christians, who, in place of Aristotle's cardinal virtues, proclaimed the real virtues being faith, hope, love, and the ninefold fruit of the Spirit. Just as Aristotle had a means of getting to the virtues, so did the Christians--through diligence, hard work, and the prevalent presence and activity of the Spirit. And just as Aristotle had a goal--eudaimonia, the point of becoming a fully-flourishing human being--so Christians had a goal: it could be said to be eudaimonia, albeit reworked into the Imago Dei. With a reworked frame of ethics in the back of his mind, Wright then examines the virtues of faith, hope, and love (plus the ninefold fruit of the Spirit) and then how the person in Christ is to "put on" these virtues. He rails against the romanticists, who say that all of this will just spontaneously happen; and he rails against the existentialists, who say that what matters is that we live authentically. Living the Christian life--the resurrection life--is a matter of hard work: crucifying the Old Man and putting on the New Man. It is an individual as well as corporate pursuit, and he examines several key disciplines that help in the journey: Christian community, prayer, the scriptures, etc.

Surprisingly, Wright doesn't write much about the Spirit in this book. One could approach the book and interpret Wright's paradigm as being absent of the Spirit. It's surprising he doesn't write much about the Spirit because, in all his other works, the Spirit is a big deal. He takes the Spirit as seriously as most charismatics I know. I speculate that his off-hand references to the Spirit in this book are due to two facets: (a) having written extensively about the Spirit in the previous two books, he hopes that what he's said before isn't now forgotten; and (b) his aim is to get back to the Christian theory of virtue wherein a Christian actually works at it (he steers far from legalism and pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps mentalism, proclaiming grace on nearly every page), which may be what he perceives to be the biggest hurdle in a post-Enlightenment and post-modernist world where many Christians are romanticists and existentialists who scowl at the idea of character development as something one has to work at. Nevertheless, Wright does mention the Spirit from time-to-time, emphasizing the Spirit's role in the process, and making it clear that while Aristotle's framework provided the way to pride and vanity, the Spirit's work leads straight to humility, because we realize that it isn't us who are making all these changes but the Spirit working with us and within us.

My rating: four out of five stars. I would've liked to see the Spirit mentioned more. I would've liked to see discourses on many of the Christian virtues that Wright just skimmed over (keeping in mind that his words regarding love, patience, humility, and chastity are wonderful; but I'd like to see more!). As a companion to this book, I would recommend Dallas Willard's "The Spirit of the Disciplines" and "Renovation of the Heart" (though I think Willard has a pretty mechanistic view of the human organism, no doubt due to his modernistic roots)--as well as Richard Foster's "Celebration of Discipline." Next book on the list: "Postmillennialism: An Eschatology of Hope."