Next.

Sometimes I have thoughts of things I'd like to do. Some days phrases fill my mind, short sentences that streak through the slick passageways of my mind. I realized after my last post that it was my 100th post. It seems crazy to say, but I've been writing on this blog with some level of consistency since January of 2009. So many things have happened in my life in the time between the past and present. For my 101st word-sprinkling, I'm thinking it's time for a series of staccato blurbs, single notes jabbed without rational connection.

• I want to chase the sunset, to drive down a westward road following the light. I had this thought last week for the first time. It's tugging at my heart. 
• I've been realizing lately how much a part of my life is influenced by music. Martin Luther said something interesting: "Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world." I may not agree completely with him, but there's some truth in what he says. I think that few things have such bearing on how I think and act. There's literally a song for every emotion that I've felt. Lyrics have the capability to make me laugh. There are some songs that only have to begin in order to cause a broad smile break out across my face. For that reason, when I share music, I share a part of myself. The music I love tells the story of who I am. 
Point 1: Our bad things will turn out for good.
• Point 2: Our good things can never be taken away from us.
• Point 3: The best things are yet to come."-Jonathan Edwards' first sermon
• There's something amazing in knowing that nothing will ever happen to me that is not for my ultimate good. That's a reason not to stress out. "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."-Isaiah 26:3
• All the joy I ever experience is undeserved. 
• The rain falls, tiny orbs of liquid dribbling and plopping down on the dry earth. Rivulets form. Roots drink deeply of the nectar, the perfect combination of oxygen and hydrogen that distinguishes this planet from everything else in the solar system. Don't try to tell me that we are accidents, that this happened by blind chance. Even with all of the problems that come with living in a broken world...this is too perfect. It works too well.
• Why me, God? Why do you love ME?
• All my favorite people are broken.

Do you like me?

I had a thought today, one that is not original, new, or brilliant. It is, however, foundational, and necessary, and lacking in today's culture. For the huge majority of my life, it has been absent in my heart. So, naturally, I tweeted about it. This is a delicate topic, and I hope that no one reading this will feel as though I am judging them or calling them out. That is not my intention. If God uses this post to move someone's heart, or convict of behaviors or attitudes, that would be great. But it's not my intention to cause guilt or shame or make people feel judged. Anyway. This is what I tweeted:

Let me give you some background in my life. This will sound familiar to many of you, so I'll be brief.

For the last 8 years of my life, the opinion and affection of girls has been a major heart idol of mine. That this is a common idol to many, many people does not excuse its presence and effects in my life. I have played with girls' hearts, I have allowed myself to become an idol in their hearts, I have hurt them through my extreme selfishness and self-centeredness...and I have moved on, time and again, without true repentance or sorrow. It may have seemed, at times, that I had gotten it (think this), but I didn't.
With that background in mind, please believe me when I tell you that it has never been fulfilling to the extent that I hoped and believed it would be to know that a girl cared for me in the way that I cared for her (and in some cases, the girl cared for me in a much more admirable and deep way than I did for her).
I believe that, finally, God has brought me to the point of repentance and true sorrow. It took years of frustrating, empty relationships and the pain resulting from them for me to realize that all of the attention I craved and built my life and actions around really wasn't going to do it. I wince at the idea of how much pain I have caused through my destructive actions, at the unrestrained, impossible words, and at the sin I have committed, alone and with/to others.
The reason I'm telling you these things that I have done are in the hope that you will not go through similar situations. To a large extent, we learn from the things that we do. But it is my hope that you can learn from hearing from what others have done, too.
Anyway...back to my original thought in this post. There are many ideas in our culture:

•  romance is inescapable and preeminent
• if it feels good (be it emotionally or physically), do it
• we have to test different personalities (through dating and/or sleeping around) to determine who we are or will be compatible with 
• love waits for no one

All of these viewpoints are lies. For years, I have built my life around the idea that if only I was in a relationship with a girl who cared for me as I did for her, I would be complete. Time and again, God has forced me to admit that it wasn't enough.

I know what it's like to feel the immense pressure and desire to make my feelings known. I also know now how stupid it was of me to think that it was necessary to make them known. By telling various girls that I liked them, I did nothing but cause hurt for both of us, whether anything came of it or not. If you think you care enough for someone to want to be in a relationship with them, it should be a relationship that is marriage. That was the point of my tweet: so often men pursue girls without understanding that if they're not ready to support that girl in marriage, beginning a relationship is going to cause pain. As a Christian, I am called to a higher standard. There's a method. For me, no romantic relationship should be initiated if my end goal in it is not marriage, and no romantic relationship should be begun until I know how I will support that marriage.
Telling a girl that I like her is pointless if I do not intend to begin an intentional relationship with her that will culminate in marriage. I have stated my feelings to girls before, and then found myself in the quandary of not knowing what to do next. This is a common conundrum...we are left to wonder, "What next?"
The saying that "True Love Waits" does not only apply only to the physical side of love, but also to the emotional side of it. True love also waits to begin a relationship until there's a clear path to walk on. Does this make sense? I hope so.
Application (for me, and maybe for you): I will not indicate interest to a girl until God indicates to me that my circumstances are right (yes, the hated requirements: maturity, financial security, long-term viability, life direction...) to pursue her with the intention of marriage. I will not attempt to decipher a girl's attitude toward me unless I have cause to believe that I am leading her on or until I've begun my attempt to win her heart for the purpose of marriage. My heart may overflow with feelings, with the need to speak, but there's no point if there's nowhere to go from there. So, for me and for other guys (perhaps), don't say anything about how you feel toward her until you're in a place where you can do something lasting with those feelings.
Girls, please: I understand how few good men there are around. I'm sorry that we're slacking off. I can only guess at how hard it is for you to wait for the right guy to come along. What will be best for you is if you don't try to figure out what a guy is thinking (romantically) toward you. If he cares enough about you to wait until he's ready to pursue a long-term relationship (meaning...for life), then he's probably worthy of you. The guys who don't wait are not worthy. You will save yourself a lot of heartache and worrying if you wait until you're approached by one of the long-term suspects. :) Playing head games just isn't worth it.
I'm not preaching, except to myself. The difference now, for me, is that my goal is Jesus. In all my friendships with Christian girls lately (the only real friendships with girls I have, in case you're wondering), I've been doing my very best to make it clear that I have one goal for a friendship with them: to pursue Jesus, and to encourage and be encouraged by them in our pursuit of Him. The choice must be to trust Him. Honesty with girls has opened up potential in my friendships for greater encouragement and joy. It's still hard, and it will continue to be hard, to battle with my deceitful heart. But if I commit to waiting, truly waiting, until the time when I am ready to actually do something about a relationship, I'm convinced that it will be far better than the poor imitations I've experienced thus far. I've got the Word on my side. :)

The "Gospel Giggles"

Have you ever heard a cicada and laughed? Have you ever thought about the idea that the green grass we walk upon, the kind that turns brown in the winter and drought, and shoots to life in the spring practically overnight, is personally attended to, blade by blade, by God? Ha. I hadn't. Today, though, something was different.

I got up this morning at six a.m., groaning as my dad, who has been helping me wake up in the mornings (at my behest) gently encouraged me to awake, reading from my body language that getting out of bed was the last thing I actually wanted to do. Finally, to placate him, I got up, got dressed, and headed down to the living room to recline on the couch and read a Psalm before curling up for another 45 minutes. The battle against myself continues, morning by morning (Pray for me!). At 7, I left my house, and headed to school, driving through fog so thick that I couldn't see what color the streetlights were till I was almost in the intersections. I love fog. I love how impenetrable it is, how the sun burns it away as if it were nothing more than a flimsy curtain on a radiant stage. 

At school, I read another Psalm, and remembered my neediness (as for me, I am poor and needy). Without much time for further delving, I headed into Spanish class. Exiting another 50 minutes later, I delivered a long overdue birthday present to a friend and then headed to the computer lab to take the open-book quiz due for my history class that morning. On the way, I got several texts from my brother: "Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever." (Jude 24, 25) Not overly enthused, but aware of the power encompassed in those words, I told Johnny I'd do my best to "try and chew on it." Habitual sin, the kind that I battle with, has a way of sapping the energy to pursue Christ out of me. 

Something happened, though, as the day went on. I noticed it as I walked to and from my next two classes: joy. Elation. I was noticing little things and being tickled by how marvelous they were. The leaves on the trees. The veins on my arm. The freckles on my classmate's face (okay, weird, I know). A smile, one I knew was cause for quizzical looks from passersby, grew larger and more noticeable. Onward through my day I journeyed, to the Bible study with my family on campus, Koinonia.

Today we discussed who God is. Oh my goodness. Have you ever tried to think about how huge a topic that is? Think about it. Now, realize how impossible it is to comprehend. Such was my conclusion as my small discussion group looked up the verses on our handout that were listed about God. As we talked about the holiness of God, about his infinite being, about his radical forgiveness, about his choice to give us the choice to choose him or death...I had no ability to do anything but laugh. Have you ever tried to truly understand how ridiculous it is that we have been given the ability to enter into the family of the most powerful being in existence, the ONE who created everything we know and take for granted? Keep trying. 

As my brain scrambled for the rest of the study to wrap my mind around how unjustly merciful to me God is, I began noticing little things;  there were cicadas buzzing (hilarious!), the grass was cool beneath my feet (ha!), the veins in my arms are carrying the blood that keeps me alive (ohmygoodness)! At that point, I was through. The rest of my day has been full of giggling.

I have walked through the hallways, laughing at the brilliancy of the music in my headphones. 

I have yelled for joy on the highway with the windows down at the greatness of His joy and mercy. 

We played volleyball tonight, and at times, there were moments when I have gotten upset and angry in the past at the low level of play and seriousness in my teammates. Tonight, I laughed at the individual greatness of each of their personalities (Team Giggle? How apt, Grosdidier!). 

I have smiled, over and over again, at how He orchestrates every single little thing in my life. Those tiny beard hairs that make up my beard? He causes each one to grow, at its location and length, on my face. HA! My mind is in overdrive, today. What is better than to see all of the little things that make up the manifold, unmerited, HUGE grace of God? One thing: the huge thing that makes all of the little things hold meaning. Jesus died. 

Can you understand the truth that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly? There are many ways to react to that truth, and today, mine has been wonder. Laughter. Joy. I am filled with a joy that I do not deserve and did nothing to receive. 

The laughter (mostly to myself in small spurts of uncontrolled giggling) that has made my day so liveable today is of a kind that I have never known before. My prayer is that I will continue to see just how amazing all of the little gifts that I do not notice normally are, that my eyes would continue to be opened to the brilliance of an ant, to the whisper of the wind, to the individual grains of sand that we trod so thoughtlessly in multitudinous games of volleyball. These things are portholes into the ocean of God's personality, keyholes into the whimsy of His creativity. They are gifts, wrapped individually and unmistakably in a different color and shape and texture of wrapping paper. I should never run out of things to giggle at. I should never have reason to stop smiling without obvious cause. There's an ocean in an ant. 

Fears, Strength, and Wasting Time

Sunday morning dawned like many of the previous Sundays have; I set my alarm the night before as if I would actually get up before the 8 o clock breakfast time, knowing that I wouldn't, and pushing snooze with alacrity when the alarm went off. I slept-walked down to the breakfast table, downed the food and coffee that my father had prepared, took a shower, climbed into the car, and perused the new biography of Paul Simon I'd bought the day before on the way to church. Equipping hour, as it is called in my church, was the beginning of a video series by John Piper on future grace; the key point of the first teaching was about how we should not serve God, assuming that we have something to give Him (at first glance, this can seem sticky. Think about it, and ask me about it if you still don't get it). By the end of that short slot, it was time to head upstairs for the main service, which was going to be preached by my brother Johnny on the fall of man near the beginning of creation.
In the waiting before the first song began, I saw my dad talking with Johnny and Stephanie at the back of the sanctuary, and wondered what was going on, based on that and some subtle hints exchanged between my parents that morning and the evening before. The first few songs finished, the announcements gone over, and the time of silence commemorating 9/11 completed, Johnny took his place at the pulpit...and something was wrong. There was something in the way he carried himself, something in the way his words as he began to speak weren't flowing like they usually do, something in the way his eyes looked slightly unfocused. He explained that his brain was moving slowly, that he'd had doubts about whether he should give the sermon, but that he'd decided to give it (despite the fact that one of the symptoms of his slow-moving brain was an inability to make decisions).
He began the sermon, full of much of the same profundity and soul-reaching truths that characterize a "Johnny sermon," but there was a haunting discordance, a disconcerting disconnectedness in his words, confusion in his transitions, and, at times, even a complete loss of a train of thought. Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong... my brain repeated as if on a looped track. Despite the awkward wording and evident confusion on his face at times, he concluded with a chill-inducing, hard-hitting series of truths: "As Creator, He made the world knowing  the suffering that He would undergo. He knew that some beauty can only be seen through suffering, that some love can only be shown through sacrifice, some joy only experienced through pain."
Johnny prayed, finished, and the fears began to swell. His conduct worried me, reminded me of John Nash in A Beautiful Mind, of my grandfather late in life, of all the stories I had heard of the people who were beginning to be affected by...brain tumors. The tears began to drip from my eyes as thoughts trampled through my brain like a group of renegade elephants: What am I doing, wasting my time on futile pursuits? What if this sermon is the last that Johnny will ever give? What if today is the healthiest I will ever see him again? What if I won't have a chance to pour out my heart to him ever again? What if this is...it? The tears rained down my face, running in rivulets in a volume I'd not experienced since 2009. The reasoning in my mind ran wild, and the fears swelled as I noticed Johnny and Stephanie's absence, of my father breaking the bread in his place, of their children in the arms of Stephanie's family. I walked to the bathroom, tried to get a grip. Up the stairs again, only to discover that they had indeed gone to the emergency room. 
I don't want to waste time. I can't afford to do it. What if today is my last? What if this will be the last blog post I write? What if the time I spent with friends tonight is the last interaction we will ever have? I can't afford to waste time. If I am not influencing my friends and family toward encouragement in and toward Jesus, then what am I influencing them toward? 
"All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field." (Isaiah 40:6)
Time is short. Johnny looks as though he is recovering, but there are unknowns, and there are fears, and I can't afford to waste time on my own selfish desires. May God grant me the grace, strength, desire, and knowledge of my weakness that will enable me to make my days, hours, and minutes count. 

A poem on death.

Hey guys. I've been thinking about death lately. I don't think it is wrong of me to do so. I think it is healthy. I wrote a poem about it. Let me know what you think.

"Things fall apart-" that's what they say;

And, though true, that seems a fatalistic way.

We're going to die, this we know,

And so we cram our lives full,

Running from death like fast from slow.

Hear this: life is a vapor, death the pull

From transience to forever.

Life is a trapdoor; death? The lever.

Learning.

Well, well, well. It's been close to 3 months since I updated this thing. The problem with not posting for so long is that, in the interim, so many things happen that it's hard to even know what to say when I do finally write. So.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about deeper things. God's been working. When He works (or I allow Him to), that tends to be the case. A conversation with some friends last week got me thinking about many of the dividing issues among Christians; predestination, baptism (is it necessary in order to "be saved"? No.), speaking in tongues, worship, and some other topics all came up. As I've been musing on them throughout the week, and talking about them with my brother/boss/pastor/friend while we work, the natural outcome of thinking about them so much has been to bring them up in conversations; with my sister Sarah, with my parents, and last night, with my friends after a long day of playing volleyball.
Friday night I stayed up later than I wanted to because I kept getting caught up in watching just one more Piper, Driscoll, or Keller youtube clip; I brought up Mark Driscoll saying that the hit movie Avatar is "satanic and demonic," and how it had made me question how I watch movies. Am I willing to just accept a movie as an enjoyable thing to see or story to be engaged in? Subsequently, I gave an example of a movie that I have felt rewards revenge as a means to an end: The Count of Monte Cristo.
At that point, my friend brought up a great point. One of my favorite movies having to do with romance, love, and chick-flick-ishness is 500 Days of Summer (starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel). Anyway, my friend, knowing this, asked me how I could feel like the Count of Monte Cristo is based on a false premise and dislike it when one of my favorite movies is based on perhaps an even worse worldview. Oops becomes--> Dagger--> becomes --> Touche.

The point of all this? I need to be aware of the conclusions I come to, and then apply them to my life. I need to be careful to analyze not only the movies that I am less likely to love, but also the ones that I can easily identify with. I need to look at the log in my own eye before seeking to take out the speck in my brother's. God has been teaching me so much. I have so much more to learn.
Lots to think about. I hope to share more of the thoughts that have been pinging about inside of my brain, soon.

I was a writer, once.

Sitting down to write for the first time in months, I'm not quite sure what will come out. I worked today, and tried to come up with some thoughts, but I've realized after many posts on this blog that, when I'm sitting to write, nothing comes out like I had planned. I have a feeling the only thing that will stay the same from my earlier thoughts is the title. It's a good one, I think.

This semester has been different. So many things have been different. It's hard to explain without saying more than I want to, but it's probably honest to say that never before have I had as many expectations on me while simultaneously feeling completely unable and unworthy to complete them. Perhaps I'll write about some of the things I did this semester, and see what comes out.

Probably the most unique activity I've done as far as school-related was Model United Nations, through Johnson County Community College. Model United Nations simulates the real United Nations in a very real way, with delegations from universities and colleges from around the states and the world representing real Member States' positions. For me, being a part of two different conferences (in Saint Louis and New York City), I had to research the positions of France and New Zealand on First Committee issues, which have to do with security, arms trade, and other related topics. Never before have I had to use so many different areas before; at the conferences, I gave speeches, compared viewpoints with delegates from nations around the world, wrote resolutions, and learned parliamentary procedure, all while using a vocabulary ten times higher than my normal one. I'd definitely recommend it to anyone with any interest at all...where else can you be involved in an activity that sends you to various famous cities around America at a fraction of the cost, meet people you wouldn't otherwise, and develop so many different vital life skills? It was a great experience.

I wrote several articles for the school newspaper, the Campus Ledger. While I won't be returning in the fall (I'll be working at the school's Writing Center instead...), it was definitely a great experience to interview a wide variety of people on a diverse number of topics. The journalistic writing style is really not for me, though, which is a large part of why I won't be continuing in the journalism field.

I was handed the reins to the on-campus Bible study group at JCCC this semester, along with Jonathan Tate. Ha. Talk about a big responsibility at a time when I feel completely inadequate, and, at times, hypocritical. I'm confident that God worked in spite of me, but a lot needs to change before I'll be comfortable in a leadership role in the fall semester. Some encouraging things, though: the group grew! It was great to see some new faces, new passionate followers of Jesus, and interested attendees. It looks as though God is working, although progress can seem agonizingly slow most of the time.

As far as courses go, I took volleyball, Model Unites Nations, Astronomy, World Cultures, and Interpersonal Communication. I didn't do as well as I should have. I shall have to work harder next semester.

In less than two weeks, I'll be in Italy. Long have I looked forward to the time there, and it's seemed as if it's forever away for a long time. But now it's soon, and my hope is that God stirs my heart for Him. Because, honestly: I am not seeking God like I should be. I am not making time with Him in order for Him to speak truth to me, I am not talking to Him, and I am not doing as I know I should. It's a scary place to be, because I am one who knows what I should do and is not doing it. Typing it out, it's obvious how silly it is for me to be disobeying Him while I know how devastating it is, to me and to my relationship with Him and others. I know I'll come back, I know I'll seek Him, and I should be doing so right now. But I'm not. And it's scary.

I know where truth is, and I know that I should go to it. Truth like this:

17 my soul is bereft of peace;

I have forgotten what happiness^a is;

18 so I say, “My endurance has perished;

so has my hope from the LORD.”

19 Remember my affliction and my wanderings,

the wormwood and the gall!

20 My soul continually remembers it

and is bowed down within me.

21 But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

22 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

23 they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

24 “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,

“therefore I will hope in him.”--Lamentations 3:17-22

I have reason to hope. I should hope. And I should change. And. I was a writer, once.