Lessons in Geekdom

Being a geek wasn't always cool. Not that it is cool, but it's cooler than it was. Did you know there is something called 'geek chic'? There is. Google it. Or check this out. It's pretty cool. Or neat. Whatever. Also, Big Bang Theory has done a lot to elevate geek-dom.

Back in the 80's geeks were not looked on favorably. They were often portrayed as social outcasts and misfits. I mean, look at Revenge of the Nerds. Wow, even as the protagonists, you still cringe. You do NOT want to be one of those guys.

Lucky for us Weezer came along. Man. These guys made it so much better to be a geek. They are geeks and they are rocks stars. In the Garage is for me, an anthem. It's as if their dulcet tones said "there are others of us Josh. You aren't alone." After the 'Great Wedgie' of '89, that was good to hear. It was a long and lonely time; being picked on.

But our time is now. Spider-Man was one of the biggest movies of all time and has spawned 2 sequels and a veritable rash of superhero movies. Lord of the Rings won Oscars for pete's sake. Oscars! AND there was a good Star Trek movie. A good one! Amazing! And all of these things, all of them, are geeky. Incredibly so. I mean, the new Star Trek movie even talks about the disruption of the space time continuum and alternate dimensions, and people (normal everyday people) liked it!

That's because, deep down, everyone has an inner geek. It's a universal truth. Everyone has something they 'geek out' over. I mean, look at what Twilight did to MOMS. Everyone is a geek about something. But for so long, that had to be hidden. People were ashamed.

But like Frodo bore the ring to Mordor, we bore the weight and shame of your indignity. And have brought you freedom. It's ok. We know. We understand that part of you that goes "glee" and jumps up and down. And's all right.

You see, geek-dom is a subculture. We have our own language, our own manner of dress and interests. For a long time, that was how it remained. Geeks were marginalized, ostracized and ignored when not being abused. But we have strengthened, grown and we have influenced and changed culture. We are smart and influential. You don't need to fear us.

Geekianity

Let me take a moment, if I may, to tell you something.

Spelling and grammar are important.

It is important to communicate clearly, concisely, and succinctly. Without proper language we are monkeys, beating our chests and grunting. Remember 1984? Language is a powerful tool, and we must wield it as we would a sword, with precision. Otherwise we run the risk of doing immense harm to our persons.

Which is why you must not call me a nerd. I am a geek. Not in the strictest sense. I do not now, nor have I ever, bitten the heads off of live chickens, but I am a geek. If you know me at all, you know this to be true. If you don't know me that well, allow me to illustrate.

Please note that I have used a Venn diagram. That in itself is pretty damning. Additionally, I am a geek because I'm moderately intelligent: I can spell and use grammar relatively well and I was/am in National Honor Society.

As for obsession, I can work the Simpsons or comic books into almost any conversation. My comic books are bagged and boarded and in alphabetical and numerical order, and I've seen every Batman cartoon made since, well, ever.

I've also taken this geek test, and the results were fairly conclusive. I mean, you should get points just for completing it.

I also say that I'm a geek because I'm not socially inept. I mean, I got married didn't I? She's not a geek. In fact, she hates most of the things I like, so I think the fact that she married me and allowed me to reproduce with her says something for my interpersonal skills.

To my credit:I love me some SciFi and Fantasy. I've seen every Star Trek movie, the Star Wars movies (including the Christmas special) and have even read some of the expanded universe novels for both. I read the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings once a year, have read Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms, and almost anything in graphic novel form. I've read the Foundation series by Asimov and know the three laws of robotics. I've read the Dune series and seen the moves, both the Sting version and the SciFi miniseries. I've read Harry Potter.

I have played almost every game system released in the United States since the 1980's. I played MMORPGs pre-World of Warcraft, and I've been a beta-tester. In high school I stayed home from a party so that I could rescue Zelda from Ganondorf. I know that Samus is a girl, and I can sing the closing theme song to The Super Mario Show. I have played video games for more than 24 hours straight.

I play Dungeons and Dragons. I've played Rifts. I know what GURPS stands for, and have run a d20 campaign based on a novel series by Robert Jordan. I play Warhammer Fantasy Battle and have played 40k.

I listen to National Public Radio. I listen to podcasts about science and Roman History. I listen to shows about video games, modern culture and role playing games.

I love superheroes.

I am Batman.

and so I walk

The trumpet sounded early again. Earlier than yesterday. I struggle into my gear as we hurry to our positions, the men around me my brothers, cousins, uncles, and friends. We were called.

So we walk.

It is the sixth day since our leader came to us. Since he told us his great plan for defeating our enemies. He explained in detail what our goal was, that victory was assured and that our enemies would be annihilated.

So we walk.

In the heat of the day, under the beating of the sun. We walk.

Into the shade of the wall, so high that the tops cannot be seen and the darkness appears to our watery eyes like death itself; we walk.

Under the jeers and shouts and taunts of an army so vast and powerful that we cannot hope to defeat it; we walk.

In exhausted silence, with gritted teet. We walk.

I sweat, and I ache. My feet and face blister. My lips chap and bleed. And yet I walk.

As I have walked since that day. The day my Lord spoke. The day my Lord called.

I do not know why or for how long. I only know one thing. I was called. I was chosen.

So I walk.

the quiet death of dreams

what happens when, by following Christ, it becomes necessary for our dreams to die? for the most part, many people are perfectly happy giving their time and money. these things are or can be, inconsequential. money can always be made and time can be found, and they can be easily faked. so we commit our time and money. but when it comes to dreams...

the commitment of our dreams to the will and hope of Christ will cause us to hesitate. to balk at walking the path that He's laid out before us, because it is not the path that we would have chosen to walk ourselves.

dreams are powerful, motivating and intrinsic to the concept of identity. The loss of dream is the loss of person, of self. The loss of identity.

which is why it scares me so.

and yet i cast off the old dream, like a man stepping into a sauna sheds his heavy coat. he has no need of it. i immerse myself in the dream that was given, i cling to the hope that was born and died for me. and yet i still am afraid.

the fear holds me, this fear of failure. it grips my broken heart. so my dream is unborn, untested and untried. because i am afraid.

this is not the legacy i want to leave my children, my wife. that their father/husband was afraid.

so i beg you, Father. not for my sake, but for my family. bless me. help me overcome my fear. give me the courage to walk the path set before me.

Echo

I want to thank Kevin Smith and Bud Miller for getting me back into comics. Kevin Smith is the author and director of the films Clerks, Mall Rats, Chasing Amy, Jersey Girl, and Dogma among others. He also has written comic books. Bud Miller was my youth pastor.

See, my youth group would take long bus rides, and sometimes we would stop at a mall to eat and have some free time. (Being on the adult side of youth ministry now, I think it is fairly safe to say it was free time for the adults more so than the youth. Who wants to be stuck in a bus full of kids? I'm pretty sure if buses full of kids had been invented, Dante would have made that circle of hell.) During one such trip, I went to Walden Books to find something to read because I was bored out my skull in the bus. I happened across a TPB of Daredevil. It was written by Kevin Smith (didn't know who he was) art by Joe Quesada (didn't know who he was) and foreward by Ben Affleck (kind of knew who he was ) Tangentaly, Kevin Smith was the one who put Ben Affleck forward to play Matt Murdock for the Daredevil movie, which while widely maligned, did a really good job of portraying Matt Murdock. It is at this point, 1998/1999, that I really started to get into comics, and one of the first ones I picked up was Daredevil.

But this isn't about Daredevil, it's about Echo.

See, Maya Lopez is a deaf girl being raised by the Kingpin (a notorious crime boss). Everyone thinks she's retarded, so she goes to a special school. While there, she sees someone play the piano, so she goes over and plays the same song, note for note. Turns out; not retarded. Awesome. She can perfectly mimic any physical action she sees. If you watch Heroes, Monica Dawson totally ripped her off.

So Maya becomes this crazy famous and awesome dancer/artist/performer who everyone loves because she is able to perfectly reproduce anything she has seen and she can even mix it all up. She doesn't just mimicry, it is reproduced knowledge. Saber vs. Conocer. While in New York for a show, Kingpin, her adopted father, tells her that Daredevil killed her dad, and supplies her with videotapes of him fighting. She then goes out and puts a heavy beat down on him. Seriously bad. But, with the Kingpin involved, things are never what they seem, and Daredevil is the good guy, so revelation and she ends up being a good guy.

What I like about Echo so much, is her ability. The fact that she can do anything she sees done. And it isn't that she can just reproduce it perfectly, but she can take it, and modify or mix it up. She isn't locked into perfect repetition. She owns it and makes it her own.

Maya Lopez isn't super strong, or fast. She is in shape, but she's normal. Pretty much perfectly normal.What makes her exceptional is her ability to learn, to see something done or modeled and then replicate it. And not just mimic it, but to really learn that skill and use it anyway she needs to. I think Jesus wants us to be like Maya. He walked around with his disciples for years, basically saying "Do what I do" and "do it this way". And that is still His cry for His people. "Do what I do", "do it this way"; but to many times the things we do are mimicry. We do them out of habit or forced repetition, they lack the true power of knowing. Even the title 'christians' implies the goal that Jesus pushed us towards, what he wanted of us.

So open up your eyes, see what He did and how He did it. Learn from Him.

Be an Echo.

Selah

Behold I am insignificant, what can I reply to You? I lay my hand on my mouth. Once I have spoken, and will not answer...

No one is so fierce that he dares arouse him; who then is he that can stand before Me? Who has given to Me that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heavens is Mine.

I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge? Therefore I have declared that which I do not understand. Things to wonderful for me, which I did not know. Hear, now, and I will speak. I will ask You, and You instruct me. I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear; But now my eye sees You. Therefore I retract, and I repent in dust and ashes.

Selah

It is well with my soul.

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:

if Jordan above me shall roll,

no pang shall be mine, for in death as in life

Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

the clouds rolled back as a scroll;

the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul.

Selah.

Amen.

Painful

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein."

I don't feel like writing anything

I have in my mind this whole series about comic book heroes and the spiritual life lessons that we can learn from them, and the concept really has me jazzed. So much so that I said 'jazzed'.

But I don't want to write.

I don't want to do anything.

I don't want to work, or fix my house. Or grocery shop, or workout.

I don't want to fight, or love. I don't want to do anything. I don't even want to be. I'm tired. I want to go home.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Hulk Smash

I love the Hulk. The whole concept of this 'hero' appeals to me. I love the fact that this geeky dweeb gets picked on, gets angry, and then smashes everything around me. I mean him. (When writing this, I actually typed "around me" and immediately went to change it. I thought I would leave it. Revealing, no?)


Another thing I love about the Hulk is how he is like Dr. Frankenstein and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde put together. In one sense, he's a creature, a creation of gamma rays and human tissue. On the other, he's the pent up aggression of Banner released on the world. But he's also considered a hero. Which I think is just a little buggy. Since when is getting angry a super power? Is that on his resume? "Skills pertinent to position required: Get really mad".

He's the Nuclear option for the heroes. If things get bad, they just pull a Three Stooges on him. They stand him in front of the bad guys, slap him on the back of the head, then point. "He did it." And Hulk smashes them to tiny bits. Tearing up real estate, maiming anyone in his way, and causing utter destruction and mayhem. No one is immune from his wrath. He is wroth with wrath.

And all the while, Bruce Banner stares out from Hulks eyes. Depending on the writer, he is either entirely aware of his/Hulk's actions, or 'awakens' from the Hulk trance, usually in a crater and usually naked. I like the idea that he watches his actions from behind Hulk's eyes, fully aware, but unable to control his actions. A prisoner in his mind, along for the most horrible ride. You know if he goes plowing through a building, or picks up a car to hit someone with, it wasn't empty right? Seriously, think about it. How many urban areas have totally empty buildings and cars lying around? Comics don't show it (thanks Comic Code Authority) but people had to have died and been seriously injured.

Think what that must be like for Bruce. To feel himself begin to lose control. To feel his emotions begin to boil and rage, build and build. His thoughts becoming less and less rational, until there is nothing left but anger and destruction. His bones bulge and distort. His skin thickens and turns green. His joints pop as tendons, ligaments and muscles expand exponentially. Ever dislocate a joint? How about all of them at once?

And then, when that is done; there is the view. As he destroys everything he can touch. I love the Hulk, and I weep for him, for what he has become. For what lurks in me.

My emotions can lose control. I have within me, something capable of destroying everything I love and hold dear. I have the ability to maim and kill, to hurt and destroy. And that control writhes in my grasp like a wet snake. But I won't let go. I must not. The consequences are too dire not to.

I don't believe I'm alone in this. We've all been lost in our emotions, been subject to them rather than the master of them. Turn on the news or read the paper and you can find people who lose their control to them. The Gamma Bomb of sin has gone off in our souls, changing us from what we were supposed to be, to something hideous. To something that only knows pain, rage and death. Our real self has lost control, and we rage. And oh how we rage. Against friends, neighbors, family, the world. We destroy what we love, and feel powerless to stop it.

But there is hope and peace if we find it. Grace and love if we seek it. Bruce Banner is doomed to be the Hulk, but I'm not. I choose not to be.

For more information on the Hulk, I recommend: The Classic and this . Cheap posers can go here.

Too Hard

Today was horrible. I almost had to leave work, I had to go into an empty office and cry quietly. My heart aches and my soul yearns. I have found a song that speaks of anger,hope, pain and loss. It is beautiful and violent. A mashup of emotion and style that echos what I feel in my heart. The pain, anger, loss and bittersweet hope and love that fills my day.

Here's the link: Rose of Sharyn

And the lyrics in case you hated it and couldn't understand it.

Numb and broken, here I stand alone
Wondering what were the last words I said to you
Hoping, praying that I'll find a way to turn back time
Can I turn back time?

What would I give to behold
The smile, the face of love?
You never left me
The rising sun will always speak your name

Numb and broken, here I stand alone
Wondering what were the last words I said to you
It won't be long, we'll meet again

What would I give to behold
The smile, the face of love?
You never left me
The rising sun will always speak your name

It won't be long, we'll meet again
Your memory is never passing
It won't be long, we'll meet again
My love for you is everlasting

I mourn for those who never knew you

It won't be long, we'll meet again
Your memory is never passing
It won't be long, we'll meet again
My love for you is everlasting

I Hate Dinner

The hardest thing I have ever done was chose a casket for my baby boy.

The emptiest I have ever felt was holding my infant son in my arms and singing to him as he grew stiff and cold.

The most heartbroken I have ever been was physically laying my child in the ground and watching strangers throw dirt over him.

The saddest I have ever been is hearing my wife cry quietly in another room.

And still, God says He's with us. That we have hope in a perfect future, in a brighter place, where we will experience perfect joy and happiness and fellowship. That my little boy will greet me at the gates, yelling "Daddy!" and run into my arms. It better. It must be. I cannot conceive of going through this without a hope in something else, something after this world, this life.

I felt him. I saw him. I love him. I never got to hold him. I held his shell, his physical form, but I never met my son, Levi. And I won't this side of heaven.

My life now is strange juxtaposition of the normal and the tragic. My baby boy is dead and buried. My heart and soul lie with him, and I'm barely functional. Aidan is excited because Daddy didn't go to work today and he wants to play. The kitchen needed to be cleaned and there are bills to pay and errands to run. One minute is perfectly normal, could be any other day.

Except my son is dead. And a cold hand clutches at my chest and squeezes my heart. My stomach clenches and my eyes burn with angry choking tears.

We sat down for dinner the other day, Sunday I think, and I started eating. Just dove right in. Amy asked me innocently, "Aren't you going to pray?" "I've been debating it" was my answer. My normal prayer goes something like this, "Dear Lord, thank you for today. Thank you for my family and friends. Bless us and keep us safe. Amen" That works under normal circumstances, but the prayer I wanted to pray was, "God, I hate you for allowing this to happen. For not protecting us. For allowing Levi to die. Amen".

This is what I prayed instead:"God, I don't understand. I don't know how this can happen, but I believe you are good and loving. You have to be. Don't let me down. I can't bear this. Give me strength." It's the one I'm still praying.

Why I'm Going to Hell or At Least The Crappy Part of Heaven

I don't like the Bible on Tape. Or CD. Really don't like it.

But we own a copy. My wife surprised me by buying a copy while I was out of town, and we had never had the "Bible on Tape" discussion. Apparently that is an important discussion to have when one of you doesn't like it and the other person calls you excited about the new purchase.

So before you grab the tar and feathers, or decide not to come to Bible Study on the nights I lead it, let me explain something to you; I know that I'm possibly in the wrong. And I know the arguments for having the Bible in easily accessible format.

#1 - Blind people. Blind people gotta get the scripture too, and lets be honest, braille looks like some kind of torture device for OCD people.

#2 - High quality. The copy we got is chock full of famous-type people playing all kinds of disciples, followers, apostles, Pharisees etc. I'm pretty sure James Earl Jones plays Herod. And it's got sound effects. When Mary and Joseph enter the inn, there's a door creak. And there's background music, crowd noise, and reverb on the angels' voice. This isn't some dude in a garage, or something some guy put together.

#3 - People don't read the Bible. But they do listen to books on tape. Like truckers, people doing laundry or painting houses. So putting a Bible on tape might reach people who otherwise might not be exposed to the Bible.

#3 part 2 - the Bible is boring. I don't think so, but let's be honest, this should be on the list. Can't you imagine someone out there thinking, "This book is good, but really, it needs some pizzazz. I know! Let's add mood music and sound effects and get really famous people to read parts like it's a play!"

If you can think of more reasons as to why the Bible is good, make a comment. I'm interested.

I'm generally a laid back kind of guy; I don't mind The Message or The Manga Bible or The Anime Bible (Ok, that's not true, I hate the Anime Bible, but only from an artistic standpoint. Seriously, I've thrown up better art). I believe that you should use anything, anything at all to reach your audience. If you know some manga emo kids who would never step foot in a church, and the art in the Manga Bible isn't awful, then give it to them, let them read it. As long as it is says "Jesus is God, He died for our sins, you need to accept Him as Lord and Savior" I'm pretty much easy.

One of the reasons I don't like it is because I think maybe people who own it are Super-Christians who look down on me without thinking they look down on me. "What are you listening to Josh? Dave Matthews Band? Oh, well, I'M listening to the Gospel of John, then I'm going to skip to some Pauline Letters. Hit that up on the way home from work. I just love the Bible so much I have to have it going 25/8. I say 25/8 because when I'm in the Word, God gives me more time to spend with Him, like when Moses raised his arms so the Israelites could defeat their enemies at Gibeon."

Another reason I don't like it is because of Matthew. It is a horrible way to start a book on tape. If you're going to go all adding stuff, then really, start with Mark or something. I think most people skip Matthew 1 anyways, so starting a new book with that is like getting a phone book to the face.

I dunno. Maybe I'm a hypocrite. Maybe I'm a bad Christian. Maybe I'm scared that if I have the Bible on tape, and easily available, I'll listen to it. And if I listen to it, it will change me, make me give up control. I mean, if the Bibles on the shelf, it's all the way over there, and I just sat down. But if it's on my iPod it's a little harder to ignore.

I'm a Little Creeped Out or Pulling Teeth

My wife informed me today that three days have passed since my last post, and that I needed to update. The only problem is that nothing interesting has happened. I've just been at home. So, it's really hard to write something when nothing has happened. Well, that's not true. A little piece of me died today.

I love cartoons. For those who know me, this should come as no surprise. Looney Toons especially have held a special place in my heart. Recently, TCM ran a bunch of classic Warner Brothers cartoons that won awards and stuff and talked to Chuck Jones. One of those cartoons was a PePe Le Pew cartoon. I used to love that guy. Always chasing women, bouncing around, talking all french. But today I noticed something. PePe Le Pew is insane. He sees a girl animal, who often times isn't Anthropomorphic like he is, and will relentlessly pursue her despite her continued resistance. He will literally chase them down, and force them to hide, then pull them out and profess his love by smothering them with kisses. That's a big cup of creepy-time tea. No means No PePe. No means no.

I don't think you could do a cartoon like this anymore. Much like Speedy Gonzalez has been shut in the closet next to Disney's 'Song of the South', PePe Le Pew needs to locked away. Or at least, revamped. Give the poor little girl cat a stun gun or some pepper spray. Seriously. "Where are you my little pigeon? I am come for you? Ah! There you are. What is zis? (TAZER)." I think it would be an empowering message for the ladies and funny. Everyone loves a good tazering.

The Final Dance or Identity Theft 101

On our last day today, we had one final area of apartments to cover/canvas with our door hangers. So we loaded up, and headed out. As we were en route, it started raining. Good thing I remembered to pack my umbrella. Oops, I left that back at the hotel. Oh well, good thing I brought my waterproof leather boots. Oops, I left those back at the hotel. Oh well, good thing I'm wearing a tshirt, tennis shoes and it's raining and cold. Wait...........

But we got them all passed out, and it only took like, 2.5 hours. So we loaded up and went to lunch. On the way to lunch, it stopped raining. Oh joy. Thanks God, for your comedic timing. I had Yan Can for lunch (owned/operated by Martin Yan of Yan Can Cook fame; I checked, he wasn't there today) and I ate the spicy red pepper because I was cold and wet and thought it would warm me up. Turns out, it is possible for you to be cold, slimy and wet on the outside and your insides to turn to napalm. Needless to say, I was Miserable squared.

After a quick nap and trip to the little boys room (notice the strategic placement of the word 'quick') we were good to go. This time, we were stuffing letters and filling out notes to first and second time visitors. I wrote postcards to the first time visitors to Bay Kids- the children's ministry, and signed them all Andy Wood- South Bay Church, which I thought was odd. I hope he never actually sends them a letter. Not that I expect infants and toddlers to note the difference in signatures, but it is better to be safe than sorry.

After we did the letter thing, we finished stuffing the Easter Eggs, which was the end of our trip except for dinner. Final Rundown:10,000 eggs stuffed, 6,000 door hangers hung, 250 second-time thank you notes written, 100 first-time thank you notes written, 4 filing cabinets and 6 office chairs moved, 1 Sunday morning setup, and 7 prayer walks walked. Additional but no less significant counts are: 1 head busted, 1 back hurting.

All told, they were really, really grateful. Andy Wood- the head pastor said, if it hadn't been for us, they wouldn't have been able to get 1/8th of everything they needed to get done, between the mailers, the fliers, the Easter Eggs and getting ready for the two services that they have this weekend. We are eagerly awaiting their report, as we expect God to great and mighty things in and through these 3 families that uprooted their lives and have come here to serve God in this community.

I didn't make fun of Rob at all this post, I wanted you all to notice that.

The Middle or Really, I'm Not Gay

Today was long. Very long. Over 20,000 steps long. That my friend, is a lot of steps. I know how many steps I took because my phone counts them. Don't ask me how, because I don't know, but it is awesome. And Magic. But lots of walking. The three guys who came out here to start the church prayerwalk the community 6 days a week. 6 days a week, they are out in the community, prayer walking. Praying God's will and power over these people, these houses, this community. They are wholly devoted to what God has called them to, and it drives them.

So today, we walked with them. We joined them in canvasing the area in prayer, and as we started, I really felt what they are up against. The spiritual oppression that these people live under and in was almost tangible. The enormity of it was almost overwhelming; that from where I stood, most of the houses and apartments that I could see were inhabited by people who don't know the Lord, and would spend eternity apart from Him. The workers are few. So very few.

So we prayed as we walked, for lives to be changed, hearts and minds to be touched. That God would be glorified. We passed out almost 4500 door hangers, and they mailed out 90,000 mailers advertising the Easter Egg hunt and the Easter Service. Statistical, the rate of return for mailers and door hangers is around 1%. But so far, the rate of return for their mailers and door hangers has been much, much greater than that, and we can thank God for that. That in the face of spiritual oppression, that there are those who are willing to sacrifice it all to follow God's leading, and that there are those who are willing to come alongside them, and support them with their gifts and services.

While we were passing out the door hangers at the trailer parks (the cost to rent one rivaled our mortgage payment) Rob was approached by two ladies asking what we are doing. He told them, and they said 'Oh' and complimented him on his bracelet. Rob for some reason thought that they thought that he was gay. So he told them that it really is a tool for sharing the gospel, but didn't really go into it. They were a little disappointed.

I probably shouldn't tell all these stories about him, but really, I'm not at all interesting.

Oh, I did make some comment about being nimble and quick, jump out of the car to close the back glass, and then slam my head against the car roof getting back in. Now I have this huge scrape on the top of my head. So, apparently, I'm just quick.

Chapter the Second: In Which our Heroes Go to the City

We had to be at the church this morning at 7am to start setting up for the 1030 service. Yeah, tons of fun. They setup from scratch and break down every single Sunday. This is what the gym looks like before they start. And this is what it looks like after it is done. They have a pretty slick setup, and they are crazy professional for only been holding services for 2 months. Most of the people who come to church are visitors, and the majority of them aren't Christians. Some of the people who serve in the church aren't even Christians, they just want to be part of the church. Pretty crazy. So we did a lot of manual labor setting everything up and breaking everything down.

Then we filled eggs with candy. A lot of eggs. We ran out of candy and ran to the SafeWay nearby and bought ALL their candy, and STILL didn't have enough candy. We are going to finish putting them together tomorrow I think, or something. They need to be done by Saturday. One thing I do know, is that if I could, I would love to live in San Fransisco. Look at this place! It was a gorgeouss day, and we saw break dancers. I totally was going to show them up, but Rob talked me out of it. Apparently, Jesus doesn't like show offs who are all frontin' and up in your grill. (Yes, that man is doing a backflip over two dude's arms.)

Tomorrow we are going on a prayer walk around 830, and then we are going to re-walk that same walk, but this time pass out doorhangers. I'm pretty sure that it isn't the most productive way to do that, but I'm not in charge. If I were in charge, we would do it dressed as Ninjas. Because, well, let's be honest, Ninjas are awesome. And Jesus is awesome. So... if A=B and B=C then.....

I think it is safe to say that I'll never be in charge of a mission trip.

Rob's Pleasure Journey vs. My Selfdeprecation

My day started with a trip to San Antonio, then to San Diego, then to San Jose. Then a quick car ride down the highway to Santa Clara. So many saints... I can't tell if this trip is blessed or ironic. Here's me waiting... how I spent the most of the day.

The run down: South Bay church is located at the south of the bay, obviously. It is in Silicon Valley, about an hour outside of San Fransisco proper. The Bay Area (area around the bay) has over 7 million people, with approximately 96% of that being unchurched. The South Bay area has around 2.5 million, with 95% unchurched. The other 5% are classified as: "Evangelical, Catholic, Mormon and Jehovah's Witness". Awesome. In the area around the school where the church meets, there are around 5,000 people in apartments. Within a 1 mile radius - 15,000 people; 3 mile radius - 77,000 people; 5 mile radius - 350,000; 7 mile radius - 784,000. 60% of the population is under 35 years old, 75% is under 44 years old. The last 5 or so church plants here that were affiliated with the Southern Baptist convention have failed after a few months, for various reasons.

For many people, this is the cultural hub of our generation. Facebook, Ebay, Google, Cisco Systems, and Sun Microsystems all have their headquarters here. So does Canon and some other giant corporations. This is a huge technological hub, and it plays a big role in forming our culture, and for the most part, it is unreached by the message of hope that is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

So, here we are. Willing hands and feet, hoping to do our part to spread the news about a church that is passionate and loving, that is in the midst of this community, bringing hope and love to a community that by and large, hasn't heard about hope and love. The opportunity for cultural influence and change that South Bay church has here is enormous, and Andy, Filipe and Archie are all burdened with the desire to see God glorified and change brought to the hearts and minds of this community. It is with expectant hearts and eager hands that we join with them in their ministry for this week. May the Lord bless the work of our hands, and your sacrifices.

Ok, serious stuff is out of the way, on to the goofy. This is a classy neighborhood people. Classy with a C, not a K. Imagine Firewheel Mall, but with million dollar homes and a school by it. Here's some pictures: The school and the field are near the shopping center/hotel area, which is on the corner of the whole neighborhood area. Imagine Firewheel Mall, but with all the area around it with the nicest looking homes you've ever seen. Apparently, the median income for the area is over $100k. So, it is important to understand that our hotel, in this area, is really nice. It has a HD tv in the room. And a pool/spa/hot tub. So... we are really roughing it. Really. I told Rob, "It isn't a mission trip unless you have a chance of catching malaria." Rob said, "I didn't bring you on a mission trip, I brought you on a Pleasure Journey." Which, in addition to being an unfortunate turn of phrase, has also become our theme.

Our plans for tomorrow include setting up and breaking down the church in the school, and then taking the rest of the afternoon off to sight see and relax (this usually happens at the end of the trip, but for us, it is at the beginning. See above under: Pleasure Journey). Monday and Tuesday we are stuffing Easter eggs (they had 2,500 people at the Easter Egg hunt last year), passing out 6000+ door hangers, and making gift baskets for the teachers at the school. Rob and I were talking, and it seems like we aren't 'doing' a whole lot on this trip, at least, nothing that seems like it justifies the expense of sending us here, especially for me, since it wasn't my money. I hope that I'm just being dumb, and not seeing the big picture, and I pray that the Lord blesses the staff of South Bay and the people of this community by your gifts and our service. I've never been in a position before where my opportunity to serve God has been the direct result of fellow believer's gifts. Thank you, and I hope its worth it.

Dorothy and the Fish

Have you seen the commercial for Microsoft that shows the adorable little girl emailing a picture of her fish to all her family? Isn't it cute and sweet? And terrifying? I think that is the most frightening commercial I have seen in my entire life. What could be worse than little children with the ability to take pictures, and then send them out? Obviously, someone with kids thought it was a good idea, but they are wrong. So very wrong.

Think for a moment if you will, what two 5-7 year old boys could do with a camera, a computer, and unobserved free time. I submit to you, that within 15 minutes, they could destroy their parent's lives. Doesn't Outlook automatically fill in email addresses? How would you like your boss to see that photo they snagged of you plunging the toilet? Or stepping out of the shower? Or God-forbid, doing both at the same time while you are eating your shower-snack-sandwich?

People, I have seen the face of evil, and it is a camera-wielding child with WiFi.

Is it plagarism if know one knows where it comes from?

I have recently been exposed to Brett Dennen, if you don't know him, you can find him here:



I believe that Music : Today :: Poetry : Past. The zeitgeist is expressed through music and lyrics where it was once expressed through poetry and verse. This isn't absolutely true, but maybe true enough. So what's this young man saying? What is he expressing?

I believe that for each of us, we have what Weezer refers to here as 'Heart songs'


Here are some of my favorite heart songs:

"...there's nothing left but a cracking voice and a song of love, I wanna dance with you, I wanna see a world where people live and die with grace..."

"...Fathomless your endless mercy,weight I could not lift. Where do I fit in this puzzle,what good are these gifts? Not a martyr, or a saint, scarcely can I struggle through. All that I have ever wanted,was to give my best to you."

"...I'm waiting to give you whatever the world may bring I'd give you my life cause I don't own anything. It seemed like the bottom was all that I had until now I'd give you my life if you'd give me yours somehow."

"...Numb and broken, here I stand alone Wondering what were the last words I said to you Hoping, praying that I'll find a way to turn back time Can I turn back time? What would I give to behold The smile, the face of love? You never left me The rising sun will always speak your name..."

"...Do I see God in all of this, maybe all along It's just that we're so small, and simply not as strong Strong like wings of silver, and feathers made of gold To carry heavy hearts, to cover all our helpless souls To cover all of us Under wings of Gold and Silver sometimes we have to hide For shelter from this bitter winter at least tonight "

"I hear the heart is where the mind, And the body come together If so, mine’s been broken since the day I was born I’m tired of the divide And I’m not getting any younger How does it feel to be whole? To live – surrender this empty old resistance To live"

"...But I know as I hammered those nails into your beautiful hands Your eyes still try to search for mine, but I look awayNow your eyes are the only thing that can save me I'm still afraid of them piercing You're breaking into my prisonJust pretended for a while My soul is dyingI won't look away..."


So what are your heart songs?

You Know Who You Are...

To the girl who came and left, and came and left:
if you don't stop playing games, sooner or later time will run out, and you'll be the only one left still playing. You don't want to be alone which is why you kept coming back, but you are scared of the truth.

To the boy who's experimenting:
it's seductive and dangerous, you're poisoning your mind, body and soul. Stop playing with fire.

To the girl who played volleyball:
don't be scared. You're stronger than you know.

To the ones who loved, and weren't afraid:
Thank you

To the woman who made it possible:
Thank you. My body and soul are for you.

The Vending Machine Broke My Heart

I love where I work. For many reasons, two of which are: Free coffee and $.25 cokes. Free coffee is a big one, a huge one. I can't overstate that. But that isn't what I want to talk about. It is the vending machine. The $.25 vending machine. You think that sounds like a good deal? You would be right. And wrong. Horribly wrong. The problem with it, is that it is such a good deal. People are always buying cokes. Specifically, Cokes. There are two things of Dr. Pepper, two Sprites, but only one Coke, so it tends to run out faster.

Today I thought to myself, "Hmmmm I need a drink to wash down that Delicious home-made chocolate chip cookie" (did I mention I like where I work)? So I grabbed a quarter, walked down the hall, opened the door, took two steps, and felt like I got punched in the stomach. There was that little red light, taunting me. My soul withered under its harsh demon-red glow. I slowly walked up and bought a Dr. Pepper, and it's cool liquid tried in vain to cool the burning disappointment in my heart.

How often do we treat God like the vending machine? We know what we want and walk up to it, and when we get something different, throw hissy fits? Or fight against it? Refuse the Dr. Pepper?

The Insurgents

I am giving a talk to a bunch of youth about peer pressure in a month or two, and that is something I have a problem with. Not youth. Peer Pressure. Man do I think it is overrated. Yes it is there, yes it is a concern, but I think that it is a symptom, and you can't just treat the symptom. The fish rots from the head so they say. According to George Barna, parents list peer pressure as the biggest challenge facing their kids today, while 'challenges to their faith' and 'value development' was at the bottom of the list.

Isn't that backwards? If values were developed, and students trained to overcome challenges to their faith, wouldn't peer pressure be less of an issue? Studies show that like minded kids hang out together. So, if your kid is hanging with a bad crowd, you may have a bad kid, not a good kid being unduly influenced.

But there is pressure. I do not want to belittle that. The world is out to sell you something, and it has a slick presentation, and it wants to get you early.

We are the Insurgents. We have the truth, that there is something better, something they don't want you to know about or experience. And they will do everything they can to shut you up. Satan doesn't play around. It isn't a game. He doesn't just want to make your kid wind up in detention, he wants them beaten and bloody, dying and alone. And he seduces our minds.

He tells the young women that they are valuable only for their bodies, but they must meet impossible standards. He tells young men that they must be powerful, and that power comes from intelligence, money or force. He tells them that sex is free, greed and consumerism is good, and that having every whim or desire met is a noble goal. There is a war going on for our minds. But there is hope. We are the insurgents. We will not be conformed to this world, and have been transformed by the renewing of our minds.

Iris makes me sad

I have always carried a soft spot in my heart for the Flash. Both Barry Allen and Wally West. Before gaining super powers, Barry Allen was a forensic scientist for the Central City Police Department, and an avid comic book collector. One stormy night, he is working on something and a lightning bolt shoots through the window, through some chemicals and into Barry. These electrified chemicals gave him his super speed. He adopts the name "Flash" from his favorite comic book hero and starts to fight crime.

His girlfriend Iris however, is totally unaware of his extracurricular activities which often keep him from showing up on time to their dates, or having to make awkward excuses for leaving. In the past, I thought that she always took these interruptions good naturedly, but recently, I've discovered that she really didn't take it so well. She constantly berates him for being late, accuses him of being lazy and having no ambition, and seems to make his life miserable. The only respite he seems to get is when he uses his Flash powers to impress her or poses as the Flash to make excuses for Barry to Iris.

In spite of all of this, they get married, Barry reveals himself to be the Flash, and their love shapes not just their lives, but the lives of many of the DC heroes. So what can we take away from this? What spiritual insight can we gleam from this? Probably none. But maybe that loving somebody means accepting all their faults, all of their failures, their weaknesses. That the quality of and the test of love isn't in moments of frustration, or of personal failure, but in the lasting effect it has on others, the people around you. If by exposure to that love, it makes other people's lives better, or makes them want to emulate or experience that love.

I think all of us can be like Iris and the Flash. Relationships are funny, the people we love the most can sometimes bother us the most. We can be ugly, mean and petty. But we can also be beautiful and loving. FYI, I'm more like the Flash.

New Year's Resolution

I resolve this year to be awesome. Not just awesome, but really awesome. 80’s metal awesome. Big-Wheel awesome. Bill S. Preston Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan awesome. I’m talking ‘high-fiving, backboard-shattering, popping-wheelies awesome’.

When I was little, I bought my first skateboard from a garage sale with my own money after my parents refused to get me one (since they were dangerous and for hooligans). The big kids who lived next door to us had built a ramp out of plywood and old railroad ties and they were skating pell-mell down the street and doing radical things like ollies and kick flips. To my young eyes, they seemed to move in slow motion and to have achieved a level of awesome that existed only in movies.

In a moment of daring, I brought out my $5 neon colored skateboard and skated slowly on the sidewalk, to embarrassed to ask to join in. One of the older boys asked me if I wanted to go, and got all the others to stand back and cheer me on. I stood there in front of the ramp, one foot on the board the other on the hot pavement, as heat waves radiated up and clouded my vision. My heart started to hammer in my chest and the world seemed to slow down as I bent down, picked up my board, and walked inside the house. I didn't skate much after that. I missed that chance to be awesome, my fear won, it overpowered me.

Life has changed a lot for me. Gone are the neon colored skateboards, the older boys who engage in radical acts that cause spontaneous bursts of high-fiving to break out, and the goofy kid in the knee socks. But that fear is still there, lurking. And it can happen at any time, all of a sudden I'm standing on that board again, in the afternoon sun, staring at the spray painted plywood ramp. This time though, it's going to be awesome.