Stumbling Toward God?

That’s right kids, FOUR posts this week. As many as all of Sept-Dec combined.

Earlier this week, a certain individual gave his “letter of resignation,” if you will, to my church group. People seem to have gotten worked up about it. Me? I was trying to take advantage of the holiday break to quietly slip away.
“So you’re quitting?”
“Not really… I’m just not gonna go.”

I have been part of this group for over four years. I have seen a near 100% turn over in membership at least twice. (That is to say, everyone who was there when I started is gone, everyone who came later who would remember those people is also gone, and there’s only a couple of people left who remember THEM.) Whatever the goals of this ministry might have been, I’ve always thought that, as far as creating lasting relationships, it has been an almost complete and spectacular failure.

Now suddenly, I don’t bother showing up for a couple of meetings and I’ve been getting nonstop voice-mails and text messages. And it’s obvious that people have been talking to each other in between pestering him and me. Did someone throw a grenade in here? What are you people so worked up about? Part of me wants to think that there’s a sense that timoth IS 20Somethings, just like no matter how many other dudes come and go, if Robert Smith leaves it ain’t The Cure. But… ummmmmm, no.

More likely, I think my friend and I just caught a little Three Stooges Syndrome on our way out the door.

That’s not even what I really wanted to talk about. I went to a new church last Sunday. That turned out to be a mistake, but at least it was one of those learning mistakes. I felt very much like I was crashing a party. In a sense, I literally was, because the church happened to be celebrating its first birthday that night and they had pizza and cake and stuff, but that’s not what I meant. I knew a few people there, and they definitely seemed to have more of a “What are YOU doing here” than a “Hey, nice to see you” attitude. I had actually tried to go somewhat incognito specifically to avoid that, but that plan failed in about the first 15 seconds when I encountered someone I knew in the parking lot. Not that it matters, there weren’t nearly enough people in that room to hide in anyway. I had grown accustomed to significantly larger congregations.

So what was I doing there? I hadn’t been to a church service in almost two months, I told people, as if that was an answer. In retrospect, that only compounds the question. I had stopped going to my regular church when I got a job that included working on Sunday mornings. But even though I wasn’t working for half of December, I still didn’t go. (Well, I was technically in the church building one Sunday morning, but I spent the whole time flipping pancakes. And I specifically went there just to flip pancakes.) The last two Sundays, I just didn’t bother. Sure, I had family in town, but that’s never stopped me… even in foreign countries.

So why this church, and why now? Well, I had thought about going there for a some time, because it met on Sunday evenings which worked with my schedule, and because several people had left my church to go there, and I wanted to see what the big deal was. Also, I had heard that number of people from work go there. One time, I was standing right there at a party when someone told my coworker that he was the only employee who had never been. (Of course, I happened to be with someone else who got off the phone with this same person and said to me, “…And she says ‘hi’ to you.” And I countered, with confidence, “No she didn’t.” So that’s a separate issue entirely.) So anyway, it seemed like the thing to do.

But why this particular Sunday? After two months? Partly, it was to in some way honor my friend Grant. An awful lot of people can talk the talk, but who can say what’s in their heart? He was one of a very few people that I know had a genuine conversion experience, and who truly loved the Lord. I know more now than I did then: He went to a bar to go pick up someone who had gotten into some trouble. There was a fight, and someone kicked him in the head. This was a guy who literally “lay down his life for his friends” in a way that most of us will probably never be asked to. I could not find the words to say that to anyone who asked on Sunday.

On the other side of the coin, even before I heard about that, part of me had been wanting to go already, just to say good bye…

As you all probably do not recall, I used to pick a “best song” from the previous year. When I became a Christian, I got it into my head that I should only listen to Christian music. I rather forgot about choosing best songs as I gradually began driving with the radio off more and more often, and eventually stopped listening to music altogether.

Last spring, it finally hit me that (with a few exceptions) I had been listening to music that I don’t even like for about four years. So I went back to the old modern rock stations, and was surprised to discover that I recognized roughly five out of every six songs played. Has there been no new music in the last four years? Where are all these bands that, being on a college campus, I had heard of but was unfamiliar with? Where were the Killers, Modest Mouse, and the Decemberists? Heck, where was Coldplay (coming to popularity back when I tuned out) for that matter? Why all this music from high school?

So I tried other things: classical, “playing what we want”, and even country.

Anyway, back to the best song of 2007. First some runners-up:

Made To Love This is a Christian song, but it’s a good Christian song, by TobyMac, whom you may or may not know as the good one from the former D.C. Talk. I’m a little uncertain as to its eligibility though, because my research indicates that while the album was released in 2007, the single was actually released back in 2006.

Vague This is a rather biased choice, as I know one of the guys in the band, Mustard Seed. But they have a legitimate cd that you can actually buy on iTunes, and you should. (As it turns out, they also do a cover version of “Made to Love.” Two for one there.)

How Far We’ve Come I first heard this song last week, and was amazed. Finally some fresh new talent? Why, oh! It’s my old friends Matchbox Twenty… and they’re interesting again! But last week was not exactly 2007, now was it?

…And the Best Song of 2007 is:

I Told You So This song is by Keith Urban, who we know is, as recently came up in conversation, Australian. (What was I supposed to say? I didn’t want to spoil the surprise…) This song, quite simply, kicks ass. Perhaps I was drawn in because it has a similar rhythm to one of my own songs that I never quite finished. I want to say that this song is like a man’s version of “I Will Survive,” but I think that probably says something more about me than it does about the song. (Besides Cake already literally did a man’s version of “I Will Survive.”)

As in: I wonder how to make an intercontinental journey in 24 hours or less?

Have I ever mentioned that I hate flying? I seem to have no trouble when traveling with other people, but when I go alone…

I woke up sometime between 3:00 and 4:00 am in London (03:00-04:00 UTC). This was about an hour earlier than I planned, as I had discovered that one work-around for jet lag is simple insomnia. I departed at 04:45 and traveled by bus, then train to Heathrow Airport where I boarded a plane which left the gate as scheduled. We proceeded to sit first on the runway, later near (but not at) a gate for two and a half hours while one of the engines was repaired.

At approximately 9:00 pm PST (05:00 UTC), with three delayed and one canceled flight, four waits in lengthy customer services lines resulting in three reticketings, and only two actual plane rides later, I arrived at LAX with my vehicle in long term parking 50 miles away at Ontario International Airport and my suitcase in any number of possible places depending on who I asked.

As I considered my options at this point (taxi, train, rental car), I eventually confronted one of my greatest insecurities: I would have to call someone for help. In fact, I feared, at 9:00 on a friday night, I would most likely have to call many people before I could find someone who was willing and able to make a 3-4ish hour round trip to one of my personal Top 3 least favorite places on earth. Fortunately, I was (reasonably) successful in this task.

Eventually, around 1:45 am PST (09:45 UTC), I arrived in the rain, in my own vehicle, to -get this- a house with no power. (And, curiously, a book tucked under my doormat, the cover of which bares the endorsement, “‘Here’s a book for anyone who has truly loved another person.’ –Today’s Christian Woman“. Why, that sounds like me in nutshell, does it? (Actually I did not discover the book until leaving again for work a short six hours later, but I presume it was there at the time.))

Total elapsed travel time: 29 hours almost on the nose. Which is surprisingly one of my better times. I remember one time a girl in my Bible study was complaining about how it had taken “all day” for her to get home from Ohio, and I believe I exchanged a sort of “I won’t say anything if you don’t” look with my friend who had recently returned from Rwanda/Uganda.

My one consolation through this was that instead of spending the night in a mountain cabin as I usually do on the weekends when I work (since I had clearly missed my shift), I would get to sleep in my own bed… er, couch. (Maybe it’s time I bought a real bed?)

I had a post all planned out for today with another spectacular example of why I hate airplane travel. But then I received a couple of phone calls informing me that one of the guys that I went with to Louisiana last year had been attacked and subsequently died. Suddenly today did not seem like such a good day for self pity anymore.

Strange as it seems
There’s been a run of crazy dreams
And a man who can interpret could go far
…Could become a star
— Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

For the last few months I have been having a lot of vivid dreams. Almost everyday I wake up and think, now what was that all about? Often there will be a random appearance by someone I have not seen in a long time. They usually play no significant part in the dream, they just happen to be there. A couple of the dreams were oddly in third person, like watching a movie. Most of them, if not outright disturbing in violence or content, are puzzling that such things would be on my mind at all. I do not recall all of the details now, but…

I dreamt:

• … that there had been a mistake, and my mother was really alive after all. But we had already had funerals; we spread ashes… I had to ask the obvious question, where on earth had she been for the last nine months? [Of course, upon waking, what nine months?! It’s been three years!]
• … that I became so depressed, that I decided to lie under a table and never move again.
• … that I was at a party with my church group, and I decided to slip out, and never go home, choosing instead to live on the streets. This dream then changed so that it no longer involved me at all, but instead, twin teenage girls one of whom ran away as before, the other living life as normal. They met again years later in a restaurant, where there was some instance of child abuse involving some of other the patrons. The “normal” girl was unable to act, but the girl hardened by life on the street did not hesitate to attack, and possibly kill, the offending parent.
• … that I returned to my job at the YMCA, but I could not remember how to do anything. I don’t recall the details now, but something I was working on kept accidentally banging into the wall, which eventually caused the entire building to collapse.
• … that one of the ladies in my church group became engaged to, as it turned out, a childhood friend of hers from “back home.” Panicked by what I perceived to be a rapidly decreasing number of eligible ladies, I was prompted to become engaged myself to someone whom I had previously been reluctant to approach.
• … that I was in a play at Prospect Park. A certain ex-girlfriend with long red hair was there. (Do I even have an ex-girlfriend with long red hair?) But I was not exactly clear on my roll, and failed to go onstage at all when I was supposed to. The play seemed to carry on without me though, and [as above], I lay down backstage and never wanted to move again.
• … of a boy who went away to visit someone or other. While there, the malicious neighbor boys attempted to kill him, yet he survived, and grew up to be a mass murderer using Star Wars level technology that he had invented himself. However, at the very end, someone discovered that his black trench coat was actually an alien life form that was controlling his mind.
• … of a carnival where one of the attractions was for people to go into an underground room where they would somehow be launched into the air and fly for a long way until landing in a swimming pool. I wanted to do it, but I had missed the last available sign up time. Then I encountered my uberexgirlfriend, if you will, an amalgamation of all of them without being any one. She had previously been covered in black body paint for some reason. Someone else had cleaned most of it off of her, but she came to me to get a few parts that were missed, in particular the backs of her knees. However, she was so skinny that I could see her bones and I was repulsed.
• … of an astronaut who had lost some bet with Buzz Aldrin. As a result, he could never leave his house, and apparently, not use the bathroom either. He would therefore urinate in bottles, and because he was a famous astronaut, people could take him a bottle or glass and get some souvenir urine. I was surprised to discover that my sister had acquired three champagne glasses of the stuff.
• … of a road trip with several of the guys from my church group. At one point, we were sitting down in a booth at a restaurant, when out of nowhere that guy with the fro said, “Maybe you still have a chance with _____.” Instinctively, we all turned to her brother [who coincidently had not been part of the dream until that very moment.] He merely shrugged a sort of “Could be, what do I know?” look. Even in the dream I was confused and responded, “Man, that was like a year ago. Why would you even bring that up?”
• … that I was at a Stater Bros up in Forest Falls. A crew was filming a “test scene” for the new Batman movie. A stuntman drove a motorcycle down one of the aisles, through a checkout lane and out the door. The people who were shopping at the time were offered small parts in the movie to compensate for the inconvenience. When I was giving my contact information, I stated my cell phone number, but then I could not for the life of me remember my address, or even whether I had recently moved to a place in the mountains or still lived down in Redlands.
• … that something was happening at the Redlands Bowl, but I don’t remember anything about that part. When it was over, I went back to my new apartment, which was located underneath the library. Strangely, though I had obviously already rented it, and my stuff was already moved in, I had never actually seen it or been inside myself. First I had to figure out how to actually get to it, and I had to hurry, as the library was imminently closing. I wander through the library, at one point coming across a small room set up in a colonial era style. Someone I knew from the circus was there in a rocking chair, but I did not particularly want to talk to her so I hurried on. Eventually I found a stairwell leading down to my apartment. Upon entering, the kitchen was quite normal. The rest of the apartment featured an elaborate series of rooms of various heights (or perhaps I should say “lowths”), some of which I had to stoop through, and some I actually had to crawl through on my stomach. Each room had some sort of task that I had to complete before going on to the next. The only ones I can remember now was a room filled with tiny musical instruments, in which I had to play a song on a violin about six inches long; and the final room had a gigantic stuffed hippopotamus with a smooth pink body made of vinyl or whatever and furry white limbs and head. It turned out it was alive and refused to let me pass so I had to tickle it into submission.
• … that I was at a party and received a short text-message apology from a female acquaintance. I did not understand it at first, but it gradually became clear that I had asked her out and she had turned me down, but now had changed her mind. Unfortunately, at this party, I was already on the way toward hooking up with a different girl. So I was left in a very awkward situation, made all the more urgent by the fact that this other girl was, um, pressuring me to do something that I was actually quite comfortable with.
• … that I was a Chinese guy (but not the main one) in the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Frequently present in scenes throughout the movie, but contributing absolutely nothing to the plot.
• … on Christmas Day [as, indeed, it would have been if I were awake] that as we were gathering (for whatever reason) in my sister’s bed room, my father said simply, “Kathy,” and my mother stepped in through the window. But, (having apparently learned something from last time, I guess) I refused to believe that this actually was my mother and I would not talk to this impostor. Later, my grandmother arrived, at which point I decided that my whole understanding of life and death and basically reality itself was inherently flawed.
• … that for some reason I was taking a shower somewhere other than my house
  . As I was almost finished I realized that without my noticing, that water level had risen to about shoulder level. The tiled basin part was set into the ground such that there were a few steps leading down to it, but still, the water level should never have been able to get that high without overflowing. I then discovered that around the top edges was almost invisible plexiglass, which I had somehow stepped over without ever knowing was there. There was also plexiglass covering the drain. Like this shower was designed to drown people?
• … that a certain doctor friend of mine informed me that one could become a taste tester for Little Caesar’s, and instead of paying for your pizza, they would pay you $50 to try whatever new thing they had. So I went there, but this was not something they advertised or even discussed. I guess there was code word or phrase or something, and I had no idea what it was. So I left. Incidentally, I had bought a new drum set that I had left at someone’s house and needed to go get, but for some reason I was now walking home with my truck still back at Little Caesar’s. So I decided it was best to continue home, get my bike, go back to get my truck, then go get the drum set, which would have been a fine plan except that now it was starting to rain, which is obviously detrimental to walking, biking, and transporting drumsets.
• … that I was at a Jeopardy show. I was not actually one of the contestants, but some other people and I were still standing onstage. One of the contestants picked a clue which led to a secret bonus round where everyone had to sing. Everyone also had a handfull of dry spaghetti noodles that they had to wave in the air at a certain part of the song. If the contestant could get everyone to do it correctly, he would win.
• … [my absolute favorite of the lot] that I had returned from college to the house where I grew up, except that there had been some sort of major disaster and the whole area [whether it be the city, state, or entire country, I’m not sure] was without power and people were being shot in the streets. There was a very pregnant lady]at the house, and the child was either mine or a relative of hers that had sexually abuse her. However, we told people it was mine because she became (understandably) very upset when I tried to explain this to someone else. [Yeah, even in my own dreams I’m an insensitive prick.] A guy arrived at the house and informed us that there was a medical unit set up on the next block, but the only way to get there was to walk, because no one had gasoline anymore. Reluctantly we went, knowing that there was a strong possibility of getting shot along the way. [I was extremely disappointed to wake up from that one, because, Holy Crap! Living in a world like that a man would have THINGS TO DO.]

I could not help but wonder, amongst this weirdness and parade of randomness, how come I never dream of that person. But finally… I dreamt that she had a boyfriend. He had a two foot long piece of black metal stuck through his abdomen, which signified that he was an agent of some important organization. It did not actually inhibit his movement in any way, it was simply “The Sign.” He seemed like an honorable fellow so, uh, good for her I guess.

I was recently contacted by someone whom I have not seen in a great long while. It has forced me to really think, how have I been? How would I sum up the last several years in a couple of paragraphs? Well…

I made a valiant yet foolhardy effort to marry a girl that I barely knew, which never-the-less lead to such significant life changes as abandoning hobbies like drinking and guitar playing in favor of Bible study and church attendance, where I was stalked/harassed twice and met, then subsequently lost, the love of my life while never actually finding the “truth” for which I was searching.

Meanwhile, I took longer than most to get a degree that I don’t use from a university I hated in a field that I don’t care about, all the while my family has been dying off at a consistent rate of one per year. I got a part time job running sound and video at a mountain retreat center where christians who can afford such things can go to get a Jesus high for the weekend, and I spend the rest of my days sleeping, reading webcomics, and idly wondering why God felt the need to spare my life in the accident that totaled my car. I guess it just wasn’t my turn this year.

And I bought a bicycle for $10. That should bring us up to speed.

It’s funeral time. I don’t know what to say anymore. This is getting old. I imagine that most people my age have more living ancestors than I do.

Dorothy Marti Ziilch
December 10, 1920 – October 7, 2007

A friend of mine is getting married. Something about it has been bothering me for a while. It’s not that I having anything against the bride, because I know the family and all. Perhaps it’s simply that they became engaged after knowing each other for less than a year and now they will be married about a year and half after the day they met. I know in my own experience, it has often taken two or three years for the blinders to come off and realize that this girl isn’t so right for me after all. Perhaps I am slower than most. Or after all look who’s talking. Perhaps I am merely envious that he is succeeding where I have failed.

Another friend is having a rather informal wedding later this year. I do not know enough of the story there to comment. But the whole thing makes me wonder, am I making this harder than it needs to be? I am but a man, no more, no less. There could be many young ladies who would want one such as me. It’s just that my upbringing and experience have heavily skewed my perception of a woman’s expectations.

Awhile ago I heard a woman’s testimony on the radio. Part of it included the fact that four months after becoming a Christian, she became engaged to a man that she had “never kissed and never dated.” (It struck me as unusual that she specified those two separately, but perhaps I am more old-fashioned than I had realized.) It also struck me that I am SO going to do that… This whole dating thing is crap. I have fallen flat on my face enough times. All or nothing, baby.

THAT is your big master plan? You actually think you have better chances of success with a cold proposal? That is just about the worst idea ever. Not to mention the fact that I have serious blood diamond issues.

Not that it matters. Because I read the Bible.

I could not count how many times that I have heard directed toward Christian singles something like, “Don’t worry, God has someone for you,” or, “Even though you are single, God can still use you.” That is excrement. For you non-christians out there, I am going to let you in a very well-kept secret: the New Testament actually discourages marriage.

To summarize 1 Corinthians chapter 7: it is not a sin to get married, but it would be better if you didn’t.
But I want you to be free from concern. One who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord; but one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife, and his interests are divided. The woman who is unmarried, and the virgin, is concerned about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and spirit; but one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how she may please her husband. -1 Cor 7:32-34

Similarly, after Jesus speaks about divorce, one of the disciples exclaims, “If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry.” While you might expect Jesus to defend the importance of marriage at this point, he instead rather cryptically repies:
“Not everyone can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let the one who is able to receive this receive it.” -Matt 19:10-12

Keeping in mind that neither Jesus nor Paul was married, then however else you may interpret what Jesus says, clearly remaining single in some way benefits the kingdom of heaven.

Furthermore, when questioned about marriage at the resurrection, Jesus responds:
“For in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven.” – Matt 22:30, c.f. Mark 12:25 Or more explicitly, in Luke:
“The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry nor are given in marriage; for they cannot even die anymore, because they are like angels, and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. -Luke 20:34-36

In summary, as far as worldly activities go, marriage is not so bad. But it is, after all, a worldly activity. The proper consolation for Christians should be, “Even though you are married, God can still use you!”

One of the more difficult concepts for me to grasp has been to not to try to apply what God has told me to other people. Just because I believe God does not want me to be married, does not mean I should look down on people who do.

In any case, we now come to the root of our standoff. For I only started going to church in the first place in an effort to get married. If God does not wish it to be so, then WHAT DO I NEED YOU FOR?

Postscript:
Though I had already planned out what I wanted to say, it took me awhile to actually get it all down. The wedding I mentioned has already passed, and I caught the MF-ing garter. Why do you mock me so?

I may have mentioned to a some people last year that I was being “consumed” by a certain project, and needed to put it away. I never actually said that I did not finish it first.

It’s been along time. So, this is what I keep in my closet. I have been learning an awful lot of web programming lately in order to make that page, so I do hope it works.

Today I finished school. I mentioned this to someone yesterday who responded, “That would make a great birthday present.” I can’t imagine how this particular person would have actually known when my birthday was, which makes for a terribly unusual thing to say. While talking to someone else, it came out that my grades are, in fact, quite good, and they asked, “Are you actually really smart and you’ve just been hiding it from me this whole time?” Uh… what do you do with that?

Anyway, I never imagined that this day would actually come. At first I was numb. Then I was nauseous. My God, what a waste. That’s an awful lot of years I won’t be getting back.

So what happens now? i’ve done what you asked. Can i please come home now? Done, you say? Hardly. Stagnation is not perseverance.

There is a certain expectation that upon completing a degree in electrical engineering, one seeks employment in the field of electrical engineering. I realized a couple of weeks ago that, all other things aside, doing that would most likely involve moving. Now, I’m not strictly opposed to moving. You know, I once left my job, my house, my girlfriend and moved to a different state to learn how to build guitars?
-No you didn’t.
No really, I did. It happened. I was there.
-Oh, please. I know you too well… and I don’t believe it.

Whatever. I wasn’t planning on staying in California my whole life anyway. It’s just that I don’t want to move somewhere that is not a developing nation and I certainly do not want to do any electrical engineering when I get there. I’m not interested in having to start over someplace where no one knows me, for no good reason. But haven’t I spent months whining that no one even really knows me here?

So, endings, beginnings. I broke a guitar string yesterday. Those were originals. They came with the guitar. I had them for six years. Now that’s absurd. I’ve also been having such strange dreams and strange thinkings lately. How can I have such wildly different interests and priorities from one day to the next? What’s the matter with me? I’m too old for this crap.

By the way, as long as we’re somewhere near the subject, there’s something that’s been bothering me. Which is this:
N.O. 2/21
A.J. 4/2
E.D. 8/4
D.B. 5/2
J.D. 1/25
K.K. 12/12
A.D. 12/4
I don’t know. Maybe it’s unusual of me to dwell on such things.