Imitation Prayer

I got to hear my dad preach last Sunday for the first time in quite a while. It just so happened that he spoke about one of the things I've been struggling with lately, prayer.
He touched on many of the points that I've been wrestling with but the one that really stuck out and hit me hard is that even at its worst, it's better to pray poorly than not at all. The types of prayers that fall into that 'poor' category are those that use flowery language (strictly condemned by Jesus himself, so they say) and prayers of repetition.
It seems to me that there is a hierarchy of prayer as to the real effectiveness (for lack of a better word). Effectiveness being measured not be physical results (cure this, change that), but instead by how it makes one connect to God. At the top of the chain sits open and enlightened dialogue where the relationship is the goal and truth is the framework. Below that resides prayer that asks for the wrong things. And by wrong of course I don't mean bad or selfish things, but the physical changes and such as I've been writing about for some time. Following simple request-based prayer is prayer that uses flowery language or "many words" as the direct translation indicates. By this I mean a showy prayer to sound good to those listening. The last is prayer of rote memorization or repetition. This would be mantra chanting and most prayer in the Catholic Church. A funny side note, I've asked some Catholic friends what the actual words are that they say in the prayers they say in church and some of them cannot tell me any individual line, but just the whole thing because it's just a habit. I realize this isn't true for all Catholics, but I thought it was funny.
Anyway, right now I have no room to talk because I'm on the step below that, which isn't really a step at all. It's not praying in any way. Which brings me back to the sermon. I have been so intent on seeking the truth and having a 'real' relationship with God and intense, meaningful dialogue that it's become all or nothing for me. It's like I just started healing from a broken wrist and I want to go immediately from picking up a basketball for the first time to playing in the NBA. But I've got to start with step one. And failing 'real prayer', imitating prayer may eventually lead to the real thing. My wife has stayed ahead of me in this department. She's been saying the Rosary all along.
Shows what I know.

The Art of Dying

My wife and I went to visit her grandparents today. We get over there not terribly infrequently, but not on a regular basis either. Anyway, it's not a chore that I dread, they are both very lovely people despite the usual and far too common racist or bigot remarks that I'm sure are fewer and less severe than they would have been 20 years ago. But for the most part when we arrive Lauryn goes into the kitchen with her grandmother and has some tea while I sit in the TV room in a recliner opposite her grandfather to chat about business, the weather, any number of old or current friends he knows in the clergy, especially if they were/are Presbyterian. I find it nice because he likes me and I can tell that he really enjoys it which makes it all worthwhile for me.
But almost invariably he also throws in some remark about being near the end of his life (he's 81) and it usually comes in the form of "I hope I live to see" whatever we're discussing. In the past it has been everything from marriages to Lauryn graduating college. Today it was brought up in the discussion about the baby we're expecting in January, but what struck me this time was the unusual amount of fear in his eyes as he said it. I'm sure he's been feeling like he's been slipping for years, which is why he says such things in the first place. But recently he has been in and out of the hospital a bit more and he has a medical procedure coming up on Wednesday that I think worries him more than usual.
My maternal grandmother also has this death fixation and has been saying she's dying for years. Apparently she called my mother this week and said that she is calling everyone to say goodbye because she's dying. It's hard for me to hear, but also hard for me to take with the amount of seriousness that it probably deserves because she's been saying similar things for so long. But again, this time it seems like there was more fear than before.
The reason I mention these two stories is that I've been wondering what makes some people so scared of dying while others (at least outwardly) aren't at all. My first thought would be that it is a question of faith. Those sure about what happens and where they will be going when they die would be less apt to fear it. But this hardly holds water when I think about my grandmother who has been, at least to my knowledge, pretty faithful in her devotion to Christianity. Of course this is simply my perception based on observation. I have never had a deep theological discussion about what she believes.
I used to be really frightened of dying when I was young. I think it was the actual thought of how I would die more than what would happen after it was over. I guess because most young people don't die in their sleep; it's usually some traumatic or bloody end. But as I got older and my faith in God matured I feared it less and less because I was convinced that the life (if it can be called that) after this would be so great and liberating. In fact, I often wished for an end to this life because I was anxious to meet my Lord. Sounds a little crazy now as I write this, but it wasn't really a desire to die, but just see what awaited me when I did. And I was so positive that it would be a great enlightenment and the veil would be removed to see the glory of God and my own spirit. Now I'm not so sure. I mean, I still believe there is existence after this mortal life, but since my perception of and relationship with God changed I think myself foolish for believing that I can understand any of God's ways to the extent that I thought I could. The problem really comes with me thinking that the close relationship I had with an idea that I thought was God was for lack of a better word, fixed. What I mean is that I thought I had it figured out. And since I have been shown that I don't have my relationship with God figured out, what other aspects of my faith and belief system aren't what I think they are? As C.S. Lewis put it, my whole house of cards has been tumbled by the movement of one card. And the only thing left for me to do is start to rebuild. The other option would be to give up, but frankly, I am just not that kind of person. Even the most skeptical part of me gives way to the rational part which says that even if there is no point, that is, even if we are alone and there exists no supreme being then there is no punishment from a supreme being for being wrong. In essence, the rational part of me wants to hedge my bets. There will be no consequence for believing in God if there really is no God, but if there is a God and I choose not to believe there is a good chance of retribution.
I know that this is really a horrible way to look at it, and if there is a God who is anything like the just and omnipotent God we imagine, God would see right through this rouse and wouldn't accept such superficial devotion. But I'm not saying that this is why I believe. It's just the absolute fail safe of why I will continue to believe in something even if the world falls on my head. Think of it like a safety net beneath a tightrope walker. Sometimes I feel like that.
But really for me, it just comes down to the fact that I have felt God too often to think that he's not there. (*note: of course I don't contend that God is a man, but restricted by the language to choose a gender I'll choose the default).
Which brings me back to this business of death. The pessimist would say that from the moment we're born we begin to die. Every breathe you take is one closer to your last. But that's living. That's life. So if it must be said that we are constantly moving toward death, let's at least make it worthwhile and make it a beautiful movement to the end of this world. And what makes death so scary is what makes other things in this world scary. It's unknown. And really it's the ultimate unknown because we have no concrete knowledge or proof of what is to come. No one has been there and back, unless of course you are a Christian, but Jesus was not concerned with giving us the details of which we probably wouldn't understand. I'm still not scared of death. My fear now is not of my own existence but what would happen to my wife and unborn child if I were gone. It may seem silly and completely shortsighted in the eyes of the Almighty, but it is out of pure love that I feel this. And that's what I've been lead to believe is his concern.

I wonder what Lazarus said upon his return?

Lies

I'm sitting here right now with my pregnant, sleeping wife beside me, watching one of the best shows on television, Mythbusters. For anyone unfamiliar with the show, a team of very handy people take myths, urban legends, and any other social dogma or story and put it to the actual physical test to see if it's possible and plausible. Most of the time the myth is busted, but it's such a fun show to watch and because most of the myths are things that I've heard of at some point, there's a real connection and interest in the outcome.
The reason I bring this up is that I've been wondering why people tell lies and why certain people seem to be more frequent liars than others. I can only speak for myself and generally, the lies that I tell (at least the ones I realize I am telling) tend to be making things true that I wish were true. What I mean by that is that I'm not lying to get out of trouble (although I have done that too), or to put another person down, but merely to present myself as more or better than I am. I imagine this is a common practice with others as well.
And if someone like me, who is generally not terribly concerned with what people think, tells lies in order to skew perception I would think that people wrapped up in their image would be apt to do this all the time. And the more I think about it, this tends to be the case. The people I know who I think of as the biggest liars (not to be too condecending) are the people who are the most insecure about themsleves. But the weird thing is that it doesn't work the other way. Just because someone is insecure it doesn't mean that they are necessarily big liars. So what makes some people more apt to lie than others?
Well, I don't know. But I am pretty sure that we as liars are not alone.
So why would we as a species universaly engage in a practice that we all (nearly) universaly accept as a bad thing to do? It's the only thing I can think of like that. Everyone agrees that killing is bad, but not everyone does it. Everyone agrees that stealing is bad, and not everyone does it.

Anyway. That's it for me tonight.
A bunch of my extended family is coming to visit this week. I'm pretty excited. I love my family.

Family

I just returned from a week's vacation to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina with my wife and her whole family. Vacationing with the in-laws may sound like torture to many people, but honestly Lauryn has a great family. Very different from my family, but great nonetheless.
It's quite remarkable that both of us should come from such stable, nuturing, and supportive families when many people I know have never experienced such things from their own families. We're truly blessed in that way. It's the kind of thing that could easily be taken for granted (I have), but certainly shouldn't be.
The funny thing is that our families are so different from each other, yet have given us each the necessary tools to create a loving relationship, household, and family of our own. I hope that we can provide that environment for our children. Which is why, after much debate, it looks like we'll probably not move to some far off place to live. Bummer. But it's hard to argue with family as a motive for staying. Would I be the same person I am today without that constant family interaction? Maybe...maybe not. One thing is for sure, a long-distance relationship with your family is not conducive to being close. Especially when a child involved because they don't have a history with the members of the family. They don't inherit the experiences of their parents and so if they don't spend time with their grandparents, they won't know them. I know, another groundbreaking revelation [sarc], but sometimes it's the simple concepts that are elusive to me because I'm so occupied by the big picture that I miss the familiar, everyday things that are important and detrimental to character development.

Anyway...we had fun.

Life

Life is a strange thing. Just when you think you've got it figured out, it throws you a curveball.
Before you get too worried, there wasn't really anything that prompted that statement. It's just what I was thinking about as I started typing. What a random collection of events. But I wonder if that's true. Sometimes it seems as if things couldn't get more random and other times it's painfully obvious that it can't be arbitrary. There has to be some kind of overarching plan. But does this 'plan' direct us all as a whole or each of us individually? I guess it comes back to the same argument about free will that I've been discussing for weeks.
I won't rehash it now as I have no new information on which to base a new debate.
Just so I don't leave without writing something of note, the following is a song I wrote a few months ago. Most of the time when I write songs I simply make up the narrative but base the feelings on something real to me. But not this. This is the most real and literal I've ever been.

I called you back, but you were already gone
You left me with nothing but a song
and a star in the sky, maybe an angel on high
but I don't really know what that means

I'm trying hard to breathe everyday
but your song is the only one that will play
and I want to move on, but the pain isn't gone
and I don't think it ever will be
How could he just make you leave
without even thinking of me?

I've got at the top of the stairs
a book with a picture of you hidden there
just past the first page, I can't throw it away
though some might expect me to

But all the times I've tried to keep hope alive
were destroyed as I hit the ground
and it happened without a sound
suddenly you weren't around

I really miss the life that you gave me
now that it's gone, no one else can save me
but I hope that's not true, hope I can find someone new
but I know that I'll always look back

Goodnight.

Prayer

It's no secret that I haven't been able to pray in any real way since the miscarriage. That was 8 months ago (can it really be that long?). For some people that may not seem like such a big deal, but before that time I was a frequent if not constant prayer. It was certainly a major part of my life and my day. Even more important, prayer was my personal connection with my creator. The relationship I had with God was intimate and real while praying. I miss that. I miss God. It's almost like I had a best friend and then one day I come home to find that he's stolen all my money, took my car, and left. The friend I thought I knew so well turned out to be none of the things that I had invested in and not only not what I had come to know but in fact the exact opposite. Eventually you get over the harm that he has done to you (as best you can), but you still miss the relationship you had even if it was fake because to you, it was real. Even if it wasn't to him.
I've tried many, many times to pray since then. It's not that I don't know what to say. I just can't do it. I just don't believe it anymore. And I can't knowingly fool myself.
Even worse, I get upset, angry, and offended when I hear other people pray and they pray for things that I know prayer cannot be used for. It shouldn't upset me, but it does. Not because they believe in it or because I want them to feel the same way I do. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. I think it's because I don't want to be a part of a prayer that I don't believe in.
Prayer still holds a sacredness to me even if I can't yet pray with the intensity and intimacy that I desire. And I hate to see it dumbed down to "heal this person" or "help me on my test." To me, the prayer loses its importance when saddled by such inconsequential requests. Well, it's not fair of me to call those requests inconsequential. Prayers for healing are certainly not inconsequential (especially to the one being prayed for), but I do think they're out of place. As I've made very clear in previous entries, God will not come down and cure your loved-one's cancer just because you prayed and asked for it.
Which brings me to another thought I had today. Sort of off topic, but seeing as this is a stream-of-consciousness journal there really can't be an 'off topic'. I saw a commercial today for a TV show called "I Missed Flight 93." I find that kind of stuff really interesting as the terrorist attacks really affected me as they did with most Americans and other sympathizers around the world. But what really struck me about this topic is that I already knew what they were going to say. I would be willing to wager just about any sum that at least one if not all of the people interviewed would attribute their good fortune to "God watching over them" or some similar cliche. That really bothers me. And I imagine it would bother the families of the deceased even more. If this person was spared because God was watching over him, does that mean that the 40 innocent people on board did not have God watching out for them? That's the only rational explanation if God was truly watching over those who did not get on that flight. Again, you can't have it both ways. You can't have a God that watches over some people to make sure they don't get on the flight but has nothing to do with the other 40 people who did. God either directed both or directed neither. I don't think those survivors are implying this when they say that phrase. I imagine that the majority of people with any sort of perceived faith would say the same thing without thinking about the other side of the coin. But I guess that's the problem. So many people who simply take the faith or religion that is comfortable for them or that fits neatly in their pocket for when they need it; no thinking required.
And I surely don't want to come off condescending on this subject. I was the same way until 8 months ago. But when faced with such overwhelming evidence to the contrary, you would have to be a fool not to at least consider the possibility that your faith has been misplaced by your own fault. Admitting that is the first step. But not the hardest.

Biblical validity

I was too busy today to even really think, so there will be no insight today.
But lately I have been struggling with the idea of using the Bible as any kind of real connection to God because it just seems as if there are too many cooks in the kitchen if you know what I mean.
Not to get too historical, but the current social view of the Bible really bothers me because the more you learn about how it was written and compiled, the less you can take it to be even remotely accurate, much less the direct word of God (which I never believed anyway, but I'm shocked to find that many people do). This of course in addition to the fact that I unfortunately only have the skills to read in English at this time. So the fact that the text has likely been altered countless times during the last 3,000 years (I'm not limiting my concern to the New Testament only) is only worsened by not being able to read in the original language.
It just seems like an impossibility to dig through all of these obstacles and really get at the truth in this text. I know that this doesn't take away from the stories and what those stories can teach us, but I can't bring myself to believe in something and base my entire life on something just because it's got good stories. I might as well become a devout student of Reader's Digest.

ps. Please don't think this has anything to do with the DaVinci Code. Give me a little bit of credit...

God willing and the creek don't rise

I decided to switch from a paper and pen notebook journal to an online blog. Mostly so that I didn't have to have the notebook with me everywhere, just an internet connection. My only concern is that now that I'm online, I may not be as honest as I would otherwise have been. But it's not too hard to work under the assumption that no one will ever read this blog anyway.
Today in church I heard for the first time again the phrase "God willing and the creek don't rise." It takes on new meaning at this point in my spiritual journey because I've been struggling with the concept of whether God is controlling what happens on earth or if we're at the mercy of nature. I'm sure this phrase was not intended to be dissected so, but it neatly sums up a simplistic idea that both can be true. Just because I thought the two ideas to be mutually exclusive does not mean it is so.
I did a quick search online to find the origins of the phrase, but didn't like what I came up with. So either I'm stubborn and only look for evidence that confirms my point of view or people post a lot of stupid things on the internet. Yep. But the fact that there are two forces at work here besides our own choices and actions is what really strikes me. There is no mention of the self or even other people in the phrase. Only God and nature. As if our choices are third in the chain of command. We can make whatever choices we want as long as they are within God's will and within the laws of nature. What an interesting thought. For example, I can choose that I would like to fly like a bird and it may even be in God's will to allow me that, but the laws of nature prohibit me from making that choice. Likewise, I can choose to do something that nature allows me, but if it's not in God's will it cannot be done. That's the part that I have trouble with. If that's the truth, then the murders, rapes, etc, etc that take place in the world are all within God's will.
So what is God's will? What does that even mean? Is 'will' the same as 'plan'? Or is it that God doesn't discriminate on a case by case basis and overall God has included murder as something that falls within the realm of his will? So there would be no distinction between the murder of a drug dealer and the murder of an innocent child. They are simply murders and since murder falls under God's will and is allowable under the laws of nature there is no stopping that choice by man. If so, God loses a lot of his control of the world. I suppose it could be argued that at any time God can change the rules he has set. But he doesn't.
Re-reading that title, it almost seems as if we have two forces working against us in all that we do. This is the choice I've made and it will come to fruition if I can just get over the two hurdles of God's will and the law of nature. There is nothing that says a choice I have made that is for the betterment of mankind will be helped along by either God's will or the law of nature. Only that those two things can hinder me from making my choice. It boxes us in. Limits us as to the plans we can make.
I see this as a bad thing, but that's my problem. No one ever promised me that I was in control. This is privilege that I have granted myself without the authority to do so. How dare I be so presumptuous. It comes from not understanding. It comes from pride. It comes from shear fear of not being in control. If my actions are first controlled by two things out of my reach and above my influence, then I really have no control at all.

June 29th, 2006

Glancing over what I wrote yesterday, I realize that the words as put forth, make me sound bitter. That was not my intent. Harboring bitterness about anything or towards anyone, be it a deity or a mortal, does no good to myself or my attitude. It certainly isn't going to change the way the world works or how God works in it. I guess I'm still just struggling with what my relationship with God really is. When nearly my entire belief system is shattered, my true faith will be measured by whether or not a new idea of God can be established and invested in. All while knowing full well that whatever new relationship I establish will most likely be shattered itself at a future date. And this pattern will most likely continue until I meet God and the veil of this world is removed. It's not a new idea, really a paraphrase of a C.S. Lewis though, but it's all I can really hold on to right now. Otherwise it's just too much to take.
I always thought that I wanted the truth above all, but if the truth is so harsh, I prefer the lie.

June 28th, 2006

The world is a strange place.
It seems like when things are going your way, everything goes your way. And of course the opposite. So it begs the question, do good things happen when people are happy and open to having good things happen, or is it that when you're feeling good, you just see the world in a better light and take more pleasure in and focus more on the things that are going right? It really has to be an attitude thing because I just don't believe that at certain times the whole world will align to bring you good fortune all at once, and other times align against you.
I suppose at one time I would have attributed this sort of thing to God blessing me with good things. But if God is not responsible for bringing bad luck upon someone, it's hardly rational to give God credit for either.
There is simply no way to reconcile the two points of view. Either God is causing the good and the bad, or he causes neither and they merely happen. It's a tough thing to accept. Especially after a quarter-century of unfailing belief that God listens to prayers and responds in a 'real' way. Maybe 'real' is the wrong word. Perhaps 'physical' is a better descriptor. In any case, the fact that God, although he may be in control in a creationist/spiritual sense, is not directing the action of the world is about the scariest thing imaginable. Because (I know, foolishly) I have lost my direct access to the one in charge, I now have no say about what happens to me in the world. I can control my own actions, and that's it. There is no one looking out for me. No one that can watch over me and keep me from harm. Even worse, no one to safeguard the ones I love. Even if I ask for it. It's easily the hardest lesson I've had to learn. And the ghosts of my former theology still linger in my mind. God is not a crutch for us to rely upon to see that bad things don't happen to us or those we pray for. Putting things "in God's hands" as I so often hear people say, is not a real option. You can put it "in the world's hands" and the world will give you what it will with no regard for your wishes or well being. Just a cold, sterile, objective reaction to whatever action put events in motion.
A doomed pregnancy will not be made viable through prayer. A sick relative will not be made well by the touch of God. A prayer of safety will not protect a single person on an airplane flying towards a skyscraper. Man has been given free will and that is the only will at work in the world. There is man's will and there is pure chance. Nothing more. How I long for the days when I trusted there was more.

June 27th, 2006

Whew! What a weekend! I guess I shouldn't use the exclamation points; it makes it sound like my weekend was exciting. It wasn't. Just busy. This week is officially the busiest in Javboy history to date. Had the JV Alert conference over the weekend with Ken McArthur which I've been editing non-stop ever since. Plus B Original is in a rush to get their shows out, Larry is coming in to the studio two weeks in a row, Don Phigpen is coming tomorrow, and I've had a few new prospect calls. It's pretty cool to have all of these things going on. It makes me feel like a real business. But in the back of my mind, I know it's cyclical and I'll probably be slow at the end of the summer. I guess it'll just take some getting used to. Well that was probably the most boring and least insightful journal entry ever.
Today marks 10 years that Lauryn and I have been together. :-)

June 22, 2006

Today was a great day. We got to see our little trouble-maker again. S/he was mugging for the camera and jumping around. It was the most beautiful feeling. I can't wait to hold him/her in my arms.

June 20th, 2006

My life balances on the edge of a sword.
Today was a great day. One of those days that fell in line exactly as I envisioned my days when I decided to be self-employed. I worked on current gigs, prepared for future assignments, exercised, ate a good lunch, worked on my golf game (twice), and was simply happy and content in my activities. Thoroughly pleasing. However, the day began with hours of terror. Lauryn woke this morning to find that all was not well with her body (even worse than last Friday's episode). She saw the doctor and it turns out that for now everything is fine.
Throughout the day I couldn't help but think that everything could have easily gone the other way. Instead of enjoying a fulfilling day of work and betterment, I might have spent the day with my wife grieving yet another loss. It's almost too much to bear. And the difficult part is that tomorrow could just as easily be that day. The day that replaces October 27th, 2005 as the worst day of my life. And it won't end with the birth of a healthy child. In a world full of danger, luck, chance, and misfortune, there is no telling when your new 'worst day' will show up. It's enough to make you want to stay in bed all day to hide from the peril that waits outside your door. So how does one get up in the morning? I used to trust and pray. That's all it rook. And quite honestly I'd love to be fooled by those notions again. At least it's something. Instead I walk in the valley of the shadow of death almost by habit. So although I have nothing to hold on to, I take small comfort in knowing that I've been here before and walked this valley for 25 years with an imaginary umbrella covering my head and I have yet to receive that fatal blow. But every day I walk could be that day. And as my family grows, the target gets bigger. It's no longer the width of one man; but of the man, his wife, and his unborn child. It paralyzes me to think about. So I'll end here.

To Start

June 19, 2006

How to start a personal journal... Well, you, the reader, may wonder why someone like me would start to keep a journal, and why now? This of course being very ambitious in thinking that anyone will ever care to read these words born out of the thoughts of my mind. But putting that behind me, I suppose I will keep this journal in the context that someone will explore it someday, yet I must admit that I do write this entirely for myself.
So back to the original questions of why now, and why at all. Simply put, it's something I've been considering for quite some time now. And although I am certainly not a 'writer' per se, I thoroughly enjoy the idea of putting thoughts on a page. Many of history's greatest minds have kept journals and since I cannot classify myself among them the best I can do is immitate them. The answer to "why now?" is an easy one. Today is my birthday. What better time to begin a personal record or correspondence than at a time when an end and a beginning are clearly defined. With 25 years now behind me, I realize that the stages of our lives are quickly fleeting and elusive. Best to chronicle them while engaged in them.
To set the scene, here I sit propped up in bed in the last hour of the day. My wife is beside me, asleep, and peaceful. One of my greatest joys is to be near Lauryn as she sleeps. It sounds cliche but most things that are considered cliche are so because they are true. An insight not unknown and not my own, I realize. But to see a woman who I care so deeply for completely at peace is a truly wonderful thing. Especially when this particular woman is often too worried or anxious to enjoy such relaxation while conscious.
I can already see that keeping this log will be quite an interesting endeavor for me because since I had decided to start this journal nearly two weeks ago, I had been rehearsing what I might say in its first entry. I do this quite often when I know an exchange will take place and I want to be prepared without seeming so. But so far I have not mentioned anything I set out to. But as stated, that's what will make this exercise so rewarding.
On that note, I bid goodnight and close the book on my 25th year on this earth. Let the journey begin.