You and Me

Baby

2006-12-23T16:54:00.000-05:00

What a joy a new baby is (even if sleep has now waived bye-bye to me for quite a while).
It's really an indescribable feeling to be responsible for another human life.
One of the many things my sister is really good at is writing things that make me cry. She was so excited while waiting for news of the birth that she wrote the following:
note: Murray is the name Lauryn and I used for the baby in utero, which is really silly now that we know it ended up being a girl!

Ode to Murray
by Elisabeth Ballstadt

We await you with bated breath,

Watch the minutes crawl…the phone sit idle.

You stir in darkness--yet in a pure light,

a light we can hardly now recall…

So anxious we are,

To hold your hand, to teach you about light and life and breath.

So in awe we are of the joy you’ve already filled our nervous beating hearts with…

Can you understand how much you are loved?

How much you are awaited? When we know not even your face or your name?

Can you feel the shallow but steady breath of your father, as he steadies the woman who holds you…the woman who will nurture you for the rest of your life? Can you feel his excitement, and can you understand how this moment—your moment--is the moment that will define his existence for the rest of time?

Do you know, little one, how your very first breath will shatter through any worry or thought of any other thing great or small in so many--in so many far off places?

And do you know, dear one, that for every day hereafter--you have created life in a woman who will never feel empty again? Do you know that every move she makes and every word she speaks will first be with thoughts of you...?

Do you know—that when you trade in your pure light for a new one, that you need not be afraid…because on bated breath await those who have loved you even before you became…and will love you long after you return to the light you know now.

We await you. On bated breath.

Watch the minutes crawl…

The phone sit idle…

Caroline Grace Blakesley

2006-12-22T20:01:00.000-05:00

As you can tell by the previous post, she's here!!
Our little girl, Caroline Grace Blakesley, came to us on Wednesday, December 20th at 10:19 AM.
What a beautiful blessing and miracle to start off the Christmas season. Talk about an immediate shift in perspective and priority. The whole world is a new and different place all because of this little one.
More to come soon, but we're all home from the hospital and Mom and baby are both doing very well.

Caroline's Wake Up Song

2006-12-22T19:59:00.000-05:00


One of the many songs I'm sure to make up that will embarass her someday....

The Edge of the Cliff

2006-11-30T15:23:00.000-05:00

Here I stand on the precipice awaiting the free fall. I've already made the decision to jump, there's no backing out now. I've got a traveling companion, the best kind.
Often the anticipation is harder to handle than the actual event. Here in the final moments it's almost more than I can take.
But here we go...

Challenges

2006-11-13T22:39:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I wrote because things have been BUSY. So we're less than three weeks from moving, and less than 7 weeks from baby (or less!...or more). Crunch time.
I'll certainly feel a lot better once Lauryn is done with work. We'll be short on money, but she is definitely in no shape to be doing the job she is doing. I just want her to be able to relax and enjoy the last weeks of her pregnancy.
Even though it's really stressful, I am so excited about all of this. I can't wait to be in the new house and I can't wait to hold my baby. Everything else will fall into place (through a lot of hard work) I'm sure. I've never been one to shy away from a challenge. And it turns out that that's what life is, a constant challenge. Living for the 'next big thing' and thinking "everything will be alright as soon as _____ happens" will get you nowhere. This I've learned. There's always something else coming around the bend. Just do what you can with what you have. It's all you can do.

I'm almost done with the new album. It will feel good to not have to listen to it anymore. It's just too much to take. I don't know what anyone else will think about it. I'm sure it won't affect them like it does me because they didn't live it. But I'm glad it will be finished and released. It will be good closure.

An exercise in insanity

2006-10-27T23:24:00.000-04:00

Let's say you're a generally happy person. Let's say, hypothetically of course, that in a given week a person is of average happiness for 5 days, has a great day 1 day, and has a bad day 1 day. That's 14.3% of the time that your happy, the same that your sad, and 71.4% of the time it's business as usual. So that's pretty good I think. Now add a significant other into the equation with the same stats. Someone that you care about deeply. Someone who shares in your joys and sorrows. Who you share a deep connection with. Uh oh. All of the sudden it's likely that you'll have two good days during a given week because if this other person is having a great day on a day that you're average, chances are she'll pull you up to her level of happiness. Remember, you share in each other's joys...Bonus! You just doubled your good days! But, chances are her bad day will fall on one of your average days too and you'll get pulled down in the dumps. Doubled bad days too. So the real question is on the days when you're super happy and your other half is bummed, what happens? Now let me first say that whatever put each person in their respective moods must be even for there to even be a question. Obviously if one person is happy because they found a dollar and the other is sad because a relative died, they're going to shift toward the bad day. But assuming all things are equal, what happens on this day? Do they go north or south?
You could say that it depends on the type of person each of them are, but I think it has more to do with timing. It all hinges on who speaks first. The first speaker will bring the listener to their level. The lesson here is, ALWAYS SPEAK FIRST WHEN YOU'RE IN A GOOD MOOD. That's your new rule. Live by it.
But there's an even bigger problem. Sure your spouse or significant other is a person that can bring you up or down, but I'm guessing (and just guessing at this point) that your children are the same way. Add another person in there and you're really playing with fire. If you have 3 children, you're in danger of never having a good day the rest of your life. But, it's possible you could never have another bad day as well. I wonder what happens if you have twelve kids?

Ok, so I realize this post didn't make any sense, but this is my blog. So I can write whatever I want!

Tomorrow is the baby shower. It sounds kind of funny, but I'm really excited. Not because I'm excited to be at the shower (I'm not even going during the actual event), but this means that we're close to having the baby! And all of these people are coming which means that we really are having a baby! They wouldn't come if it wasn't going to happen, right? Sorry, just a quick bout of nervous father-to-be again. Goodnight.

In a nutshell...

2006-10-26T21:55:00.000-04:00

It's tough to cram your thoughts on a profound subject into a nutshell.
A few weeks ago I was asked to speak as a Witnessing Steward at church on Oct 29 (this Sunday). I'm supposed to talk about what the church means to me and the importance of giving (not necessarily monetary donations, but general giving of money, time, and talent).
I almost didn't accept the request because I'm just not all that sure of what my relationship with God is right now. But maybe that's why it's so important that I do.
Today, I finally got around to thinking about what to say and it really made me think about why it is that I'm in the church. After the miscarriage, I was really screwed up. I didn't know how bad it was until I had made it out of the darkness. But looking back, I was lost. Before that time, I would have thought that God would be my comfort in the times of trouble, my beacon in the storm. But when I got there, He wasn't. I felt abandoned and lost with no guidance and no love. My relationship was not what had I thought it was. I wasn't nearly as strong as I had believed. But here I am, on the other side. Not once did I ever doubt the existence of God, but just what He means to me and I to Him. I'm still not sure. But the exercise today, of writing about what the church means to me made me go back to the days when I was just a preacher's kid in small-town Iowa. When God was good and people were real. The world was black and white.
But what I am thankful for is the foundation that upbringing provided. I am so engrained in the church and the church engrained in me that not even the worst of the worst could separate the two. We miscarried on a weekend and the very next Sunday, there we were, back in church. I was angry at God. But there I was, sitting in the pew. And that's what sustained my faith. Not reason, not love, but merely habit. Normalcy. Thank God for that. Without that habit of going to church, I may have been lost.
The church is my family. It always has been. Even when I didn't want it to be. That's the life of a PK. So now that I'm grown and have a home and family of my own, I find comfort in the family aspect of the church. And that's the point.

Not The Same

2006-10-09T21:42:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I wrote anything. Mostly because I've been busy with all the changes around here and the traveling for Grandma's funeral. Life seems very strange right now. Almost like a wool blanket is covering the whole world and we're all just trying to peer through it to see the sun.
It was so nice to see the family while in Iowa. It's really unbelievable how close all of the cousins are. I don't think many families are like that. We all just really like each other and truly care about one another. The whole funeral and everything around it was just weird. The viewing was probably the strangest. So many people came from many of the different periods of Grandma's life as well as many others just to support the family. But it had the air and atmosphere of a party, all while my grandmother was lying in a casket. Dead. She didn't even look like herself. I guess the bodies of the dead never really do. There is an indefinable vitality that gives a living person their distinct 'look' and I guess that leaves when they die. I'm glad she didn't really look like herself.
Grandpa held up better than I thought although most of that can be attributed to confusion due to his stage of Alzheimers. It's so tough to see him in that state of frustration since he can barely hold a 3 line conversation with any clarity. Maybe the loss of memory will protect him from the loss of his beloved. One can only hope. It was reassuring to see glimpses of the 'old' Grandpa that I love so dearly. Brief flashes of recognition and personality are all that remain of determined and wonderful man. Such is life. Ashes to ashes they say.
Leaving him so far away tears me apart. If only I could visit every day, perhaps that would help dull the pain that I'm sure rushes back to him with each flash of remembrance that Donna is gone.
The past year has been the best and worst of my life. I'm generally a pretty even keel kind of person, rolling with the punches and never deviating too far from center. But this year has been nothing but peaks and valleys. It's as if I'm being stretched to my limits. I can't quite rejoice in my successes nor wallow in the darkness because before I know it the tide has changed and dragged me with it. In two days I celebrate the third anniversary of the best day of my life followed quickly two weeks and two days later by the first anniversary of the worst. I can't believe it's been a year. When does the healing begin?

In Memory of

2006-09-28T00:22:00.001-04:00

Yesterday morning as a new day arrived, Donna Munzenmaier took her last painful breath before departing, leaving her failed and worn out shell to rest in the Lord's arms. She leaves behind a large, loving family and a lifetime of Christian service.
But to me she was Grandma. Fryer of sausages, sender of birthday cards, provider of late night pizza, one of my first musical memories, encourager under all circumstances. All that a grandma should be.
She had grown prematurely old, beginning shortly after my family moved to the east coast, right after her mother died. The change was instant. From a vibrant caretaker to a decrepit Parkinson's sufferer in the matter of a few months. It was difficult to understand and even harder to accept while being so far away and continuing to hold on to such recent memories of her being mobile, healthy, and happy. She appeared weaker with each visit until the last few in which she was wheelchair bound and barely able to speak in any audible fashion.
It pains me to think of her suffering as she did these last few years. I know the pain was intense enough to turn anyone sour, but for me, she put on her 'grandma face' and smiled whenever I visited. I didn't realize at the time how much strength that must have taken, to smile in the face of such pain, fear, and anger as her body degenerated under the stress of age and a debilitating disease.
I hate to dwell so much on the last agonizing years of a life that accomplished so much more, but it breaks my heart to think of her suffering as she did. I know I'm supposed to take comfort in knowing that she no longer must endure the pain of living, but it does little to dull the pain of losing the matriarch of a close family. I miss her as she was. I still can't wrap my mind around the thought that she's actually gone. Her body is now empty. She doesn't live there anymore. I guess I always thought that once she finished this horrible battle with failing health that she would be back to normal. Like we could just put that unpleasantness behind us and continue on, every once in a while saying "Remember when you were sick? That was bad, I'm glad that's over." But now she's dead. Dead. I can hardly bring myself to write the word. Death is not something that is supposed to happen to people I care about so much. It's for people I don't know who seem far away where I say "That's a shame" but never feel any loss for.
I guess it's just too soon. I miss her and the way she used to be. I really could have began to grieve 8 years ago as things really started to decline, but death is so final. Before, there was always hope of something better. But now it's done. She's gone. In time I hope to remember her as she was when she was whole and healthy and full of the life that was hers.
A grandmother, a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a great-grandmother, a singer, a pianist, a cook, a nurturer, a poet, a friend, and so much more.
I leave you with her own words that she sent to me not long ago during a challenging period of my life

The Journey

by Donna Munzenmaier

Make Faith your anchor
Love your compass
Wisdom your navigator
and Joy your companion----
then
cram Compassion into your valise
stuff Fun in a pocket
slide a Penny in your shoe
and
make Peace your destination

Rest in peace, Grandma.

Big Life Changes

2006-09-21T22:34:00.000-04:00

Well, we did it.
It's been a crazy (to say the least) week, but it's all official now. We put an offer on a house in Douglassville, it was accepted, we cleaned and repaired our current home, and it's now on the market. In the blink of an eye, our world is changed completely. I had a vague idea on Friday the 15th when we went to look at houses that this was a possible outcome but it hardly registered just how huge this is. We went from casually looking to moving our whole lives 40 miles west to a new community and for all purposes a new world. All while being 6 months pregnant. So now the winter holds two of the biggest (and most stressful) changes a couple can endure: childbirth and moving. Both within weeks of each other (maybe days...).
I'm super excited though. We wouldn't have taken this on if we hadn't found a place that we both loved so much. It's gorgeous and everything we're looking for in a home, property, and neighborhood, even if it isn't exactly too close to our parents. But you know, all we can do is do what we can. You know the old adage, when life gives you lemons you make lemonade. Well, we're making lemonade and making the best damn lemonade we know how. And I think we're doing as good a job as anyone.
Lauryn's pretty nervous about selling our house as the market has certainly slowed in the past 6 months. But we cleaned this place and made sure everything looks nice; we priced it to sell, and I think it will. I am going to miss this place. For all the inconveniences of a townhouse it has ably served as our first real 'home' together and we've made it feel like it's our home. It's strange to think that our child will never know this as home. It will be that place that we lived in before you were born. Like the place my parents tell me about. Funny how that happens. I don't think there's any escape from turning into your parents at least a little bit.
And to think, just a few months ago I was in the darkest place I have ever known and now life has completely flipped to the most optimistic and brightest points imaginable. New home, new baby, business is going well, and a new world to explore.
I'm inching closer to prayer as well. Now if I only knew who I was praying to...

Decisions

2006-09-12T21:50:00.000-04:00

It's coming down to it. Only 2 1/2 months to go. Then Murray will be here. Ok, so we're not really calling the baby Murray. But it's such a fun name to call him/her while in the womb.
We've got so much to do before then and we're dragging our feet a bit because some of the decisions to be made are just sooo difficult. Are all of life's major decisions this hard? Right now it's mostly about where to live. Being in a townhouse for the last two years has been great in that it's much better than apartment living. No doubt there. And really, our place is great as far as townhouses go. It's big and very nice on the inside. The outside is a bit of a different story, but it's not all that bad. We're just ready to be real homeowners, you know? Have a house that is not connected to anything else. Where we are responsible for everything. Where we actually own land. The kind of place that you envision raising a family.
But it's not that simple. Houses are just so expensive, especially around here and especially in the last 3 years. So we're pushed ever further west in an attempt to find suitable housing at a price that we can possibly afford. And that's the bummer. I actually am getting used to where we are now and there are things like our church that I really don't want to leave. Plus the further west we head, the further away from our families we are which is essentially the reason we're staying in this state in the first place.
So we're stuck. There is no clear cut choice. And the stakes are high. I guess that's a part of life. Making decisions you're ill equipped to make. Just close your eyes and jump.

Perception

2006-09-01T22:12:00.000-04:00

It's funny how little you really understand things as a child, but how your perceptions mold your expectations in adulthood. I've always felt like anyone older than me always 'had it all figured out' and really knew what was going on. I remember looking up to the umpires at my little league games and thinking they were so cool and knew it all. But then a few years later I was an umpire, in that exact position and didn't have a clue.
This is something that still happens all the time. I walk through my life looking at others who seem like they've got it together. You know, all their ducks in a row and such. I still think that. Everyone's got it figured out except for me.
But the thing is, as I get older I realize that no one does. Not my parents, peers, friends. No one. Even the coolest, most successful people can't tell you what will happen tomorrow or what it's all for. They may fool themselves into thinking that they are the master of their own destiny, but they are doing just that, fooling themselves. The world is out of our control. Each choice we make is a privilege in that it can be taken away at any time. We can make the choice to stay inside our home all day, but if there's a fire in your house, your choice is taken away.
My point is simply that we are given the perception of having 'free-will' but it simply isn't so. We may have the free-will to choose to follow God or not, but we do not have free-will to govern the events of our lives in there entirety.
So I guess the best we can do is buy in to the perception and hope for the best. Make choices as if we are in control and deal with it when we aren't.
That's all I've got to say about it right now.

Heading up to Connecticut this weekend for Nicole and Dave's wedding. Should be a good time.

In a world gone mad...

2006-08-31T23:40:00.000-04:00

This world is just too much to take. I can't believe the atrocities that some people commit. I hear about brutality on the news, see it fictionalized on TV and in the movies, read about it in books, magazines, and newspapers. But these things are really happening. Someone is actually cutting the head off of another human being.
Alive one minute, a headless corpse the next. Even thinking about it makes me physically ill.
Who are these people? What goes on in their brains?
Am I different?

Intercessory Prayer

2006-08-20T22:08:00.000-04:00

Ok, so it's intercessory prayer that we've been discussing for a few months now. That's really where my idea of God has had the biggest challenge. On one hand I have 2,000 years (and more) of tradition that teaches ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find. Sounds great. But the reality is that I asked and I didn't receive. In fact I was abandoned. At least outwardly.
So what's the deal? I've said before that now there can only be three conclusions: God isn't there at all, God isn't listening, God doesn't care. Of the last, I suppose 'care' is the wrong word. I'm not saying God isn't concerned with my supplications, but I'm simply stating that they do not have a direct effect on what he chooses to implement (if he's implementing anything).
So that's the dilemma. Everything we've been taught versus what we've experienced.
Seems pretty clear cut to me. What we've been taught is wrong...Or is it?
Perhaps the truth lies in the teaching but we just don't quite understand the lesson completely. Although I have my issues recently with using words directly from the Bible and other holy texts because their validity is extremely questionable, I look to the New Testament and the words of Jesus (who else would know better?) to find that the man himself is a practitioner of intercessory prayer. And guess what...What he prays for doesn't happen either. Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane praying to the point of bloodshed, pleads with God for another way besides his crucifixion. But the important part of this prayer comes at the end. Thy will be done, not my own is what he says. And there in lies the truth. Intercessory prayer isn't a guarantee that what we want to occur will. We are not directing God. Nor do I think he is really directing us (that whole 'free will' thing, remember?). But giving a supplication to God with the understanding that God will impose his will is not futile.
C.S. Lewis gives a great example for why this is so. Imagine a friend of yours asks for a favor and then adds "if it's not too much trouble" to the end of the request. The request is completely changed by simply adding that phrase indicating that the choice is still yours. The favor may or may not be granted, but you are now aware of your friend's desire and can choose whether or not you will acquiesce.
The prayer at Gethsemane is not the only prayer that follows suit. One need not look further than the Lord's Prayer to find "thy will be done." This supposed 'model prayer' for Christians is based on the same concept. Give us this day our daily bread but only if it is your will.
It's a bit of a breakthrough for me. I'm done with the fist shaking. I'm done blaming. I'm done being angry.
Do I understand it? No. Am I still having trouble praying on my own? Yes.
Do I still break down in tears? Absolutely.
The pain isn't gone, and I don't think it ever will be.
But I'm building my house of cards. It will get knocked down again, I know.
But I must still build.

My Brother

2006-08-12T00:14:00.000-04:00

Today is my brother's birthday. He's 32. Wow that sounds old. It must sound really old to him.
We couldn't do anything too celebratory for him because tonight was the second night in a four night run of the play The Fantasticks in which he plays Matt. So we went and saw him perform tonight. It's the first time I've seen him act since he was in college I think and I had forgotten just how good he is. He was really extraordinarily good. I was really proud of him.
It's interesting the talents that some people possess. It's really a shame that not everyone can simply do what they're best at for a living. Not to say that he's a better actor than a minister, but it just seems like for him, acting would be simpler. He would simply do his job, a job that he happens to love, do it well, and that's all it would take. When you're a minister there's so much more to it and the job is so much less defined. There is no obvious black and white, success and failure in the ministry. No matter what you do some people in the church will think you should have done it differently. I guess it's the old axiom that you can't please all the people all the time. And in the church it's multiplied to the 100th power. Probably because in a place that is supposed to be all accepting, you cannot be as direct as you may normally be for fear of offending someone. Everything has to be treated with much more care.
The problem this creates is that if 99% of the people are happy with something being done a certain way, there usually ends up being a compromise to make the 1% happy while diminishing the satisfaction of the 99. I see it all of the time in the church. It's pretty frustrating too because the church is the one place where you would think the 'greater good' would be the most served instead of the lowest common denominator.
But I digress...
Happy Birthday, Josh

Environment vs. Biology

2006-08-07T23:46:00.000-04:00

Today I met someone from a very different background from myself. He was what you could call a little rough around the edges. And by rough I mean course, rude, and drunk. But through that exterior there shone bright, albeit brief, moments of a responsible, thoughtful, and respectful person. Not to say there were enough of these moments that I would want to spend any more time with him than was absolutely necessary.
It makes me wonder, is this person merely a product of his environment and the brief moments of politeness are flashes of what great potential are contained inside? Or is it simply a miracle that there are spots of light at all? It's the age old question, what shapes a person? Is our environment responsible or are we predisposed to be a certain way?
There is no way it's that simple. From what I have seen and experienced there is some predisposition that is then covered by experience. Anyone who has spent any time with newborn babies will know that they all do not act the same way. Some are docile and quiet, others noisy and active, and everywhere in between. Score 1 for biology. Also, quite often you hear stories of people with less than stellar backgrounds rising above their upbringings to go on to greatness, be it as a public success or as a person of moral integrity. On the flip side, people brought up with many advantages sometimes end up entirely bereft of character and responsibility. Score 2 for biology.
But then I look at my life experience. Although the change I have seen in myself over the past 7 years is far less drastic than going from heathen to aristocrat, or charlatan to pillar of morality, I do see a change in my actions, attitude, goals, and tastes. Would these changes have taken place had I not moved out of my parents house? Would I be the same person today if I had not moved to the east coast? The answer is quite clearly, no. My environment has changed me if not entirely, at least drastically in the finer points.
Now I am lead to ask the question, had I been brought up in the same place and under the same circumstances as my new acquaintance, would I be so rough on the outside with only small points of light pointing to my true self? Surely the question is unanswerable and of course I am quick to say "Of course I would have the same moral fortitude regardless of upbringing," but if I am really being honest with myself, I know that cannot be the case.
Man is born with an innate sense of caring for fellow man, but only to the point that it does not lead to the destruction of oneself. Given the choice between looking out for yourself or another, the innate sense will choose the self. Only a being who has had their sense of selflessness cultivated and has been shown by example such actions of giving will choose the well being of another over that of themselves. Score a big one for environment.
I leave you with this example. Everyone in this country is taught at an early age that 3 x 3 = 9. But if a person is never taught the multiplication tables, and even more than that, not ever taught to count, they will never know that 3 x 3 = 9. It doesn't make that equation any less true, nor does it mean that that person is incapable of understanding the concept, they simple lack the instruction to understand it. Yes, some people would figure it out on their own (how else would we know this unless someone figured it out), but far fewer people would know it if each person had to start from scratch to uncover it.
So perhaps the man I met today never learned math either.

Alone

2006-08-06T00:19:00.000-04:00

Sorry I haven't written in so long. I thought keeping this journal as a blog instead of in a notebook as it started would make it easier for me to write. But I've just been so busy lately that I haven't had time. I usually write in bed right before I go to sleep, but I've actually been going to sleep instead. Imagine that!
Business has been good, I went on vacation, and my dad's family came out for a visit. That's why I've been so busy. It's really been great though.
It's funny, it's not really that I've been too busy to write, but more that when I have a busy day I don't have time to think about things. And it's really that contemplation time that spawns these ramblings. It's too bad to, because I feel like it's a great exercise for the mind to let it wander as often as possible. It's also very liberating and spurs on more thought.
Something I noticed today is just how alone I am. Not to say I don't have people around me who I can talk to or who care about me, but there are very few people who I feel really understand me. For instance (and this is a dumb example), today I finally figured out how to hook Vonage VoIP into the current phone wiring system in my house so that all the phones work like normal but are using the Vonage service. I thought this was the coolest thing in the world and is going to save my wife and I a good chunk of change on phone service while giving us the freedom to make unlimited calls and such. So when I got this working not only was I pleased about the practical issues, but I was proud that I had figured it out and got it to work properly and quickly too. Usually I have a great concept, but when I put it into practice it either doesn't work the way I designed or it takes forever to make it happen, so this was a pleasant surprise. So there I am beaming with accomplishment and I tell my wife to pick up the phone so she can see that it works and the response I get is..."Great." I don't know what I expected, maybe a ticker tape parade or something, but I was hoping for more. Then I see my father-in-law, same response. Brother-in-law, same response. Not that it's their fault. My expectations were just out of wack.
So there is the problem. I feel alone because the things that I expect are rarely the things that actually come to fruition. Maybe it's less that people don't understand me and more that I don't understand people and place unrealistic expectations on them. I think that they know me better than they do. When it comes down to it, even the people you are most intimate with will never know what's going on in your head. They can never know exactly how you feel. Maybe this is what draws us to create or find or know a God that is omnipotent. Just so we don't feel so alone, trapped inside our heads with no chance to let anyone in. It's easy to see how God could be a creation of man to fulfill our emotional needs if you can for just a second put aside the pride that people have in thinking that they haven't been fooling themselves into believing in something that isn't real. I'm not saying God isn't real. I'm just saying that from a rational perspective it makes perfect sense that man created God to fill a need for understanding and companionship. If that were all there is to it there wouldn't be much of an argument, so I'm not saying that this is why people believe in God and that those people are wrong. I believe in God. Not to say I haven't questioned it. I think it is foolish not to question it frequently, as with anything that requires belief. But even at my worst I always come to the conclusion that God exists. But the God that we have created and the God that exists may turn out to be very different indeed.

Imitation Prayer

2006-07-29T00:27:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-20T23:59:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-19T22:47:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-17T16:54:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-06T00:31:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-04T22:59:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-03T23:49:00.000-04:00

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

2006-07-02T22:57:00.000-04:00

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.