Wow.
It has been a cazy (as Josiah would say) past two weeks and it will probably require a couple of posts to thoroughly and sufficiently honor and scrutinize them; suffice it to say, it was a very merry Christmas, and is currently poised to be a very happy new year. It's also important, nay, crucial to note that at midnight tonight I will not be switching my allegiance so much as I will be officially, publicly announcing my newfound loyalty to the Brewers. After much cajoling, heckling, verbal abuse, threats, and assaults upon my personal integrity, I have recognized the superior wisdom of cleaving to the Brew Crew for baseball glory; having thus set my covenantal love upon them, I will be steadfast in my faithfulness to their cause and will pray imprecatory prayers against all who would broker opposition to their might.
...or something like that...
I have reliable information from worthy sources that I will not be disowned for this turn of events, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed nevertheless.
Goodbye, Cubs. Rest in peace. (Or pieces, rather!)*
Phil and Deanna's party awaits us, and if I have anything to say about it, much sparkling grape juice will be consumed as 2011 springs upon us. Farewell, 2010- you've been good to us all. And you'll be missed more than my misplaced Cubs loyalty.**
Let's rip!
*It's comments like that that will get me disowned!
**I'm a dead man.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
The End of an Era
Wheeljack Hudziak: 2008- December 19, 2010
Wheeljack was a hamster beloved by many during her short sojourn in this world; a faithful companion and guardian*, resolutely standing by her master and keeping a watchful eye upon his domain and loved ones.** Wheeljack entered my life around Christmas of 2008, a wee little nugget with her sister Ivan II (soon to be renamed Ivana, who tragically perished in the spring of 2009***) and took up residence in my humble apartment by the Courthouse. I named her after my favorite Autobot from the original Transformers cartoon (he developed the Dinobots- he was tight!). She felt at home with my simplistic furnishings and delighted in rolling around our home in her green, translucent ball, and endlessly spinning her wheel in her cage (which was actually an old fishtank someone at work had given me, but hey! It worked!). She enjoyed going through chew toys like a wood chipper, burrowing, scurrying around her habitat, watching seasons of The Office and Battlestar Galactica with me, and listening to Mahler, Strauss, and the earlier work of Miles Davis (before he began experimenting with jazz-rock fusion).****
The summer of 2009 witnessed Wheeljack taking up the mantle of Home Defender as Kristin and I went to Camp Chetek the first time, and thanklessly she persevered in that duty, going long stretches without human companionship until our return in August. Only two months later and Kristin and I were married and Wheeljack fond herself the patroness of our newfound matrimonial bliss. Ah, the many nights of not being able to sleep as she would spin her wheel without end, invigorated and thrilled to run at a clip that would probably cause my lungs to disintegrate- she always was a night owl. She protected our home once more in the summer of 2010 as we returned to Camp Chetek as lead counselors, but we returned home more frequently this time and kept her company on far more occasions than previously; sweet reunions were had with her each time we had to travel back to Janesville, and she threw a rollicking welcome home shindig when we ultimately came back home for good.
Although I had noticed of late how her pelt grew to a more noticeably hoary hue, I banished all thoughts of her growing old and of the inevitability that one day Wheeljack would shuffle off her mortal coil and depart from us. Yesterday before heading off for church, I checked up on her and saw that she had a halting gait and uneasiness to her step. I was of course concerned, but was already running late, so we had to take off, sad to see the effects of aging becoming manifest. Later last night upon our return, I went to investigate and see how she was doing, and found her- silent, upon her side. Her eyes were closed, mouth frozen mid-chew; I think her last memory would have been of enjoying a fruit-flavored wood block before giving up the ghost. I believe that it was a peaceful passing for an honored member of our family.
I guess I had forgotten exactly what the average lifespan of a hamster is, so I admit to daydreams of bequeathing Mrs. Hudziak to our kids; turns out they usually only live somewhere around two years or so, so I can say with confidence that she had a good run. I can also say with assurance that Mrs. Hudziak was loved, and loved being a part of the Olson home. Wheeljack Hudziak saw me through two apartments, a host of personal and spiritual changes, two summers at camp, one year of marriage, and countless nights otherwise spent alone working on epic, future history science fiction sagas.***** God rest ye, Wheeljack- you will be missed!
*Hey, you know what skeptics? My apartment hasn't been broken into once since her arrival upon the scene, so I'd have to say she did a pretty good job for two years straight!
**...and the other eye upon her spinning wheel.
***And even more tragically ended up slightly cannibalized... that was a weird day for sure.
****She also really dug Bolt Thrower- I never could explain that one.
*****They were in fact co-authored works, so if and when they're ever published, they will have her name on the covers too. Mrs. Hudziak had brilliant ideas and helped developed a coherent sociological framework to the stories.
Wheeljack was a hamster beloved by many during her short sojourn in this world; a faithful companion and guardian*, resolutely standing by her master and keeping a watchful eye upon his domain and loved ones.** Wheeljack entered my life around Christmas of 2008, a wee little nugget with her sister Ivan II (soon to be renamed Ivana, who tragically perished in the spring of 2009***) and took up residence in my humble apartment by the Courthouse. I named her after my favorite Autobot from the original Transformers cartoon (he developed the Dinobots- he was tight!). She felt at home with my simplistic furnishings and delighted in rolling around our home in her green, translucent ball, and endlessly spinning her wheel in her cage (which was actually an old fishtank someone at work had given me, but hey! It worked!). She enjoyed going through chew toys like a wood chipper, burrowing, scurrying around her habitat, watching seasons of The Office and Battlestar Galactica with me, and listening to Mahler, Strauss, and the earlier work of Miles Davis (before he began experimenting with jazz-rock fusion).****
The summer of 2009 witnessed Wheeljack taking up the mantle of Home Defender as Kristin and I went to Camp Chetek the first time, and thanklessly she persevered in that duty, going long stretches without human companionship until our return in August. Only two months later and Kristin and I were married and Wheeljack fond herself the patroness of our newfound matrimonial bliss. Ah, the many nights of not being able to sleep as she would spin her wheel without end, invigorated and thrilled to run at a clip that would probably cause my lungs to disintegrate- she always was a night owl. She protected our home once more in the summer of 2010 as we returned to Camp Chetek as lead counselors, but we returned home more frequently this time and kept her company on far more occasions than previously; sweet reunions were had with her each time we had to travel back to Janesville, and she threw a rollicking welcome home shindig when we ultimately came back home for good.
Although I had noticed of late how her pelt grew to a more noticeably hoary hue, I banished all thoughts of her growing old and of the inevitability that one day Wheeljack would shuffle off her mortal coil and depart from us. Yesterday before heading off for church, I checked up on her and saw that she had a halting gait and uneasiness to her step. I was of course concerned, but was already running late, so we had to take off, sad to see the effects of aging becoming manifest. Later last night upon our return, I went to investigate and see how she was doing, and found her- silent, upon her side. Her eyes were closed, mouth frozen mid-chew; I think her last memory would have been of enjoying a fruit-flavored wood block before giving up the ghost. I believe that it was a peaceful passing for an honored member of our family.
I guess I had forgotten exactly what the average lifespan of a hamster is, so I admit to daydreams of bequeathing Mrs. Hudziak to our kids; turns out they usually only live somewhere around two years or so, so I can say with confidence that she had a good run. I can also say with assurance that Mrs. Hudziak was loved, and loved being a part of the Olson home. Wheeljack Hudziak saw me through two apartments, a host of personal and spiritual changes, two summers at camp, one year of marriage, and countless nights otherwise spent alone working on epic, future history science fiction sagas.***** God rest ye, Wheeljack- you will be missed!
*Hey, you know what skeptics? My apartment hasn't been broken into once since her arrival upon the scene, so I'd have to say she did a pretty good job for two years straight!
**...and the other eye upon her spinning wheel.
***And even more tragically ended up slightly cannibalized... that was a weird day for sure.
****She also really dug Bolt Thrower- I never could explain that one.
*****They were in fact co-authored works, so if and when they're ever published, they will have her name on the covers too. Mrs. Hudziak had brilliant ideas and helped developed a coherent sociological framework to the stories.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
WHICH ONE O' Y'ALL WANTS TO GIT SNAKEBIT??!!
Kid's Christmas Party at Morning Star last night = Epic Win!
Forty kids, fifteen Little Caesar's pizzas, two hula hoops, one big bouncy ball, two pitchers of ice water housing a hundred pennies each, one squirt bottle, two blindfolds, one dry erase board, a hundred feet of rope cut into seventy-ish "snakes," one roll of masking tape, one nickel, and Beauty and the Beast made for more than four hours of zany fun.* No black eyes, no broken bones, and every single shoe recovered successfully- mission accomplished! The kids, comprising two teams (the Jedi and the Buccaneers**), loved the games we set up and somehow were still overflowing with energy when we started the movie a little after nine. Mr. Ian made the mistake of sitting down at about ten and regretted it immediately when getting back up became the most difficult, Herculean of tasks. Believe you me, I slept like a rock last night when we made it to Jeremy and Anouk's house! It was a great time though and everyone had a blast- 364 days 'til next year's! Who else is counting down?
*Yes- zany.
**Come on- you kinda saw that coming.
Forty kids, fifteen Little Caesar's pizzas, two hula hoops, one big bouncy ball, two pitchers of ice water housing a hundred pennies each, one squirt bottle, two blindfolds, one dry erase board, a hundred feet of rope cut into seventy-ish "snakes," one roll of masking tape, one nickel, and Beauty and the Beast made for more than four hours of zany fun.* No black eyes, no broken bones, and every single shoe recovered successfully- mission accomplished! The kids, comprising two teams (the Jedi and the Buccaneers**), loved the games we set up and somehow were still overflowing with energy when we started the movie a little after nine. Mr. Ian made the mistake of sitting down at about ten and regretted it immediately when getting back up became the most difficult, Herculean of tasks. Believe you me, I slept like a rock last night when we made it to Jeremy and Anouk's house! It was a great time though and everyone had a blast- 364 days 'til next year's! Who else is counting down?
*Yes- zany.
**Come on- you kinda saw that coming.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
My Achy Breaky Heart
Morning struck offensively early at the Olson home yesterday as the tranquility of our slumber was shattered by the clamor of MIDI violas, violins, and cellos. Neither of us greeted the sound of the baroque-era alarm with joy as it struck 4:50 a.m. although Kristin did present a more imperturbable picture of grace than I did by falling back asleep. I opted instead to grumble and to launch a salvo of vitriolic, verbal retaliation at my phone which probably sounded more like a cantankerous Charismatic muttering under his breath (I don't think I was speaking in tongues but I would forgive someone for confusing it as such) as I sat up and starting scratching my head for a few minutes (my higher cognitive functions hadn't flipped on just yet). Incensed and exhausted, I proceeded to make a pot of coffee in as grumpy a manner as possible, aiming to teach that alarm a lesson (I think that at that particular moment it made more sense than it does now). An inauspicious beginning to the day, indeed!
Rational thought returned somewhere around the middle of my first mug of coffee. Every morning Kristin and I have coffee together to talk, pray, and have devotions over, and brother, I needed it in the worst way! With an awareness on loan from some delicious, French vanilla-flavored brew*, we turned to this morning's Psalm (51) and read alternating lines aloud to each other. This Psalm is quite precious to both of us as it encapsulates our experiences with sin in such a painfully beautiful way, bringing us back to times when we have fallen; times we have experienced conviction so vividly; times we have hated our sin so desperately and appealed to God for not only forgiveness but also cleansing of our very wills. As this Psalm spoke to us of the grievousness of sin, I found myself returning mentally to verse 10, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." That verse has aided me in prayer so many times as I implore God to help me in putting to death the desire for sin that yet lives on within me, and has shaped my understanding of what true repentance is. The picture of the contrite sinner, broken over his transgressions and driven by the Holy Spirit to repentance is not hypothetical- it's actual.
Fixated upon verse 10, I kept thinking of clean hearts and new spirits and it came to me that this is the solution God prescribes throughout the entirety of Scripture- from the command to circumcise our hearts (first spoken in Deuteronomy 10:16) and to be born again (as attested to by Jesus in John 3). The hearts which we are born with are pathetically deficient for our purpose to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. God must personally intervene if Man's chief end is to be realized, and David's plea in Psalm 51:10 becomes reality as God fulfills the Old Testament promises of spiritual renewal in lost sinners. God promises a new covenant in Ezekiel 36:25-27 which states, "I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules." Jeremiah 31:33-34 also reveals God's redemptive purpose in a new covenant: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more."
Christ purchased the New Covenant with His blood (Luke 22:20) and by His death once for all ratified the inheritance of all who would belong to the New Covenant community (Hebrews 9:15); every promise of atonement, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance and ultimately glorification is sealed upon Christ's work as the mediator of this new covenant and guaranteed through God's faithfulness to the covenant. A people unwilling and unable to save themselves are redeemed and delivered from the power and penalty of sin by the perfect person and work of Jesus Christ to the glory of God, and it is in Christ that we find the fulfillment of God's promise in Deuteronomy 30:6 to circumcise our hearts Himself, "so that you will love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live." God's commands will always require His grace to perform faithfully- our darkened, rebellious hearts will never submit and obey otherwise, and this dependence upon God is to His glory and for our joy, as the former will always ultimately translate to the latter for His people.
The fervent prayer of David does not go unanswered; each adopted child of God, whatever the progress of his or her individual sanctification, bears witness to the radical heart transplanting which God performs in regeneration as we are born again to a living hope, preserved and sustained through faith (1 Peter 1:3-5). Let us strive then for the purity of heart to which we are called by honoring the Son of God, who for the joy that was set before Him gave Himself up for each of us, with our praise and our worship, and by laying aside all that gets in the way of our being a living sacrifice; for we, the redeemed, have been enabled by the grace of God in this new covenant to do so. To close, I'll paraphrase** that perennial oldie-but-goodie Augustine, esteemed Doctor of Divinity and Bishop of Hippo, with this wonderful prayer from his book Confessions: "And all my hope is nowhere except in your great mercy. Grant what you command, and command what you will."
*I actually have yet to repay this loan, but so far the coffee maker hasn't noticed... don't remind it, ok?
**I'd straight up quote him, but I don't know Latin. My bad.***
***Scholar Fail.
Rational thought returned somewhere around the middle of my first mug of coffee. Every morning Kristin and I have coffee together to talk, pray, and have devotions over, and brother, I needed it in the worst way! With an awareness on loan from some delicious, French vanilla-flavored brew*, we turned to this morning's Psalm (51) and read alternating lines aloud to each other. This Psalm is quite precious to both of us as it encapsulates our experiences with sin in such a painfully beautiful way, bringing us back to times when we have fallen; times we have experienced conviction so vividly; times we have hated our sin so desperately and appealed to God for not only forgiveness but also cleansing of our very wills. As this Psalm spoke to us of the grievousness of sin, I found myself returning mentally to verse 10, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." That verse has aided me in prayer so many times as I implore God to help me in putting to death the desire for sin that yet lives on within me, and has shaped my understanding of what true repentance is. The picture of the contrite sinner, broken over his transgressions and driven by the Holy Spirit to repentance is not hypothetical- it's actual.
Fixated upon verse 10, I kept thinking of clean hearts and new spirits and it came to me that this is the solution God prescribes throughout the entirety of Scripture- from the command to circumcise our hearts (first spoken in Deuteronomy 10:16) and to be born again (as attested to by Jesus in John 3). The hearts which we are born with are pathetically deficient for our purpose to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. God must personally intervene if Man's chief end is to be realized, and David's plea in Psalm 51:10 becomes reality as God fulfills the Old Testament promises of spiritual renewal in lost sinners. God promises a new covenant in Ezekiel 36:25-27 which states, "I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules." Jeremiah 31:33-34 also reveals God's redemptive purpose in a new covenant: "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more."
Christ purchased the New Covenant with His blood (Luke 22:20) and by His death once for all ratified the inheritance of all who would belong to the New Covenant community (Hebrews 9:15); every promise of atonement, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance and ultimately glorification is sealed upon Christ's work as the mediator of this new covenant and guaranteed through God's faithfulness to the covenant. A people unwilling and unable to save themselves are redeemed and delivered from the power and penalty of sin by the perfect person and work of Jesus Christ to the glory of God, and it is in Christ that we find the fulfillment of God's promise in Deuteronomy 30:6 to circumcise our hearts Himself, "so that you will love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live." God's commands will always require His grace to perform faithfully- our darkened, rebellious hearts will never submit and obey otherwise, and this dependence upon God is to His glory and for our joy, as the former will always ultimately translate to the latter for His people.
The fervent prayer of David does not go unanswered; each adopted child of God, whatever the progress of his or her individual sanctification, bears witness to the radical heart transplanting which God performs in regeneration as we are born again to a living hope, preserved and sustained through faith (1 Peter 1:3-5). Let us strive then for the purity of heart to which we are called by honoring the Son of God, who for the joy that was set before Him gave Himself up for each of us, with our praise and our worship, and by laying aside all that gets in the way of our being a living sacrifice; for we, the redeemed, have been enabled by the grace of God in this new covenant to do so. To close, I'll paraphrase** that perennial oldie-but-goodie Augustine, esteemed Doctor of Divinity and Bishop of Hippo, with this wonderful prayer from his book Confessions: "And all my hope is nowhere except in your great mercy. Grant what you command, and command what you will."
*I actually have yet to repay this loan, but so far the coffee maker hasn't noticed... don't remind it, ok?
**I'd straight up quote him, but I don't know Latin. My bad.***
***Scholar Fail.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Happy golden days of Eeyore
I love Christmas music.
No, you don't understand- I love Christmas music! Every sleigh bell ringing, every chestnut roasting, every thumpity-thump-thump, every kid from one to ninety-two, every scary ghost story and tale of the glory of Christmases long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away... wait. Not so much that last part (that's a different strain of geekdom altogether!). But the fact remains, when this guy has a constant stream of holiday anthems pumping into his consciousness like an IV, you better believe we're simply having a wonderful Christmas time.
I am quite possibly the sole employee at Farm and Fleet who is overjoyed that we're playing non-stop Christmas music in the store- in fact, I would be clicking my heels with glee if I wasn't so clumsy and prone to taking out innocent bystanders and stacks of merchandise as I lose every semblance of balance and orientation (not to mention dignity) mid-leap. I view it almost as some pirate radio station fueling the underground with yuletide merriment and I provide the typical DJ banter as the songs shuffle through; "You're listening to Blain's F&F FM, Janesville's home for the holidays. Less talk- more Jingle Bell Rock!"
I think my favorite song is "Sleigh Ride" because it is so evocative of innocent, almost bygone (sad to say) Christmas pasttimes- singing together, riding through the snow, watching chestnuts pop, holding close the one you love... It just summates everything great about the season in a very real way and speaks to my heart to a degree perhaps surprising for a simple little jingle. The picture it paints is so idyllic and pure, it seems to me almost like the modern equivalent of the old bucolic poems celebrating the simplicity of pastoral life* (as in being in literally being in charge of a flock of sheep or a herd of cows or whatever other beast you're trying to keep tabs on, which doesn't actually sound very tranquil or otherwise appealing to me- but I digress). My favorite line is "These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives," which I think captures the spirit of the entire song and brings together all of the individual images into a composite of a perfect day; it's a statement of how the simple enjoyments truly are the ones we'll treasure not only in the moment but also later as we reflect upon our lives.
On the other end of the spectrum, however, is John Lennon's "Merry Christmas (War Is Over)." I mean, the chord progression is great and all, but I know for a fact that Lennon didn't give a hoot about Christmas, and frankly, I just don't dig on the "War is over if you want it" premise which the song is really about. I haven't shared Lennon's naive view of humanity for a couple of years now (which is to say, in a roundabout manner, that I once did), i.e. that human beings are essentially good, utopian visions are right around the corner if we'll just work together, etc. Basically just one big idol of Man (to twist the lyrics to one of his other songs slightly), giving no heed at all to the depravity of humankind. Now whenever I hear that song at work I just think of this great line from Slaughterhouse Five about people writing anti-war books, or anti-war anything, where Kurt Vonnegut says someone might as well write an anti-glacier book because it's just as likely to have the same impact.**
Let's face it- the only ex-Beatle to craft a great Christmas song is Paul McCartney (despite the howling protestations of Zach Johnson to the contrary!***), as evidenced by the masterpiece "Wonderful Christmastime." One man and his 1977-era synthesizer/drum machine is all it takes to compose the "Ride of the Valkyries" of Christmas songs, and lest you think that an overstatement, I know of one bearded would-be scholar who can scarcely contain his excitement when this call to arms comes on.****
The next couple of weeks will be bringing me much listening pleasure whilst at work (this is the only time of the year that I can truthfully say that!) and I hope all of you will share in at least a modicum of my enthusiasm for the spirit at least of these songs. So kudos, radio stations, for keeping it real! And kudos, Christmas season! Fifteen more days!!
*An example that comes to mind immediately for me is from Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd To His Love:
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
**There! You've been waiting for some token cynicism, and now you've got it!
***Ah, the memories of many a drive with Zach, plugging his ears, bellowing as if he was directing people to the Titanic's lifeboats! Usually on our way to the bowling alley in Milton around this time of year, it seems like, this song would never fail to suddenly invade the airwaves and Zach could be depended on to voice his extreme dissatisfaction with this little ditty! How precious to recollect.
****Okay, now I'm just getting ridiculous.
No, you don't understand- I love Christmas music! Every sleigh bell ringing, every chestnut roasting, every thumpity-thump-thump, every kid from one to ninety-two, every scary ghost story and tale of the glory of Christmases long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away... wait. Not so much that last part (that's a different strain of geekdom altogether!). But the fact remains, when this guy has a constant stream of holiday anthems pumping into his consciousness like an IV, you better believe we're simply having a wonderful Christmas time.
I am quite possibly the sole employee at Farm and Fleet who is overjoyed that we're playing non-stop Christmas music in the store- in fact, I would be clicking my heels with glee if I wasn't so clumsy and prone to taking out innocent bystanders and stacks of merchandise as I lose every semblance of balance and orientation (not to mention dignity) mid-leap. I view it almost as some pirate radio station fueling the underground with yuletide merriment and I provide the typical DJ banter as the songs shuffle through; "You're listening to Blain's F&F FM, Janesville's home for the holidays. Less talk- more Jingle Bell Rock!"
I think my favorite song is "Sleigh Ride" because it is so evocative of innocent, almost bygone (sad to say) Christmas pasttimes- singing together, riding through the snow, watching chestnuts pop, holding close the one you love... It just summates everything great about the season in a very real way and speaks to my heart to a degree perhaps surprising for a simple little jingle. The picture it paints is so idyllic and pure, it seems to me almost like the modern equivalent of the old bucolic poems celebrating the simplicity of pastoral life* (as in being in literally being in charge of a flock of sheep or a herd of cows or whatever other beast you're trying to keep tabs on, which doesn't actually sound very tranquil or otherwise appealing to me- but I digress). My favorite line is "These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives," which I think captures the spirit of the entire song and brings together all of the individual images into a composite of a perfect day; it's a statement of how the simple enjoyments truly are the ones we'll treasure not only in the moment but also later as we reflect upon our lives.
On the other end of the spectrum, however, is John Lennon's "Merry Christmas (War Is Over)." I mean, the chord progression is great and all, but I know for a fact that Lennon didn't give a hoot about Christmas, and frankly, I just don't dig on the "War is over if you want it" premise which the song is really about. I haven't shared Lennon's naive view of humanity for a couple of years now (which is to say, in a roundabout manner, that I once did), i.e. that human beings are essentially good, utopian visions are right around the corner if we'll just work together, etc. Basically just one big idol of Man (to twist the lyrics to one of his other songs slightly), giving no heed at all to the depravity of humankind. Now whenever I hear that song at work I just think of this great line from Slaughterhouse Five about people writing anti-war books, or anti-war anything, where Kurt Vonnegut says someone might as well write an anti-glacier book because it's just as likely to have the same impact.**
Let's face it- the only ex-Beatle to craft a great Christmas song is Paul McCartney (despite the howling protestations of Zach Johnson to the contrary!***), as evidenced by the masterpiece "Wonderful Christmastime." One man and his 1977-era synthesizer/drum machine is all it takes to compose the "Ride of the Valkyries" of Christmas songs, and lest you think that an overstatement, I know of one bearded would-be scholar who can scarcely contain his excitement when this call to arms comes on.****
The next couple of weeks will be bringing me much listening pleasure whilst at work (this is the only time of the year that I can truthfully say that!) and I hope all of you will share in at least a modicum of my enthusiasm for the spirit at least of these songs. So kudos, radio stations, for keeping it real! And kudos, Christmas season! Fifteen more days!!
*An example that comes to mind immediately for me is from Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd To His Love:
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
**There! You've been waiting for some token cynicism, and now you've got it!
***Ah, the memories of many a drive with Zach, plugging his ears, bellowing as if he was directing people to the Titanic's lifeboats! Usually on our way to the bowling alley in Milton around this time of year, it seems like, this song would never fail to suddenly invade the airwaves and Zach could be depended on to voice his extreme dissatisfaction with this little ditty! How precious to recollect.
****Okay, now I'm just getting ridiculous.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
And if your whistle's weak, yell "Jiminy Cricket!"
There have been many times, predominantly as a lost sinner without hope, and even sometimes as a regenerate believer, that I have confused the stings of conscience for repentance and turning away from sin; I have deceived myself by obscuring the true condition of my heart on countless occasions by mistaking the painful feelings of guilt I experience subjectively for the forsaking of my love for sin and disobedience towards a holy God. "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" (Jeremiah 17:9). More often than not, I simply regretted the results of my actions which bore negative ramifications and consequences rather than any kind of inherent offense against God for my wrongdoing. For me to make a sacrament of regret doesn’t glorify God- it only makes an idol of my conscience and in so doing suppresses the truth in my heart. Sin isn’t about failing my potential and letting myself down, it’s about rebellion against a righteous God.
God doesn’t call us to wring our hands and perform a kind of penance through sadness and being down in the dumps- He calls us to repentance and restoration through Christ’s atoning blood. God’s command is for all to abandon both their sin (as an object of action and thought) and their fundamental attitude towards sin (our love for sin in its various forms) and to simultaneously depend upon Christ’s active obedience (in His lifetime of perfect pursuit of holiness) and His vicarious death on behalf of sinners so as to be made right with God (through His forensic declaration of our being righteous) and to purify our conscience from the slander of Satan, whose accusations against us all, prior to our being born again, are incontrovertible. The Father, in keeping His eternal covenant with the Son, will never fail to justify them whose sins the blood of the Son has covered- He will ever and always be faithful to His promises. In fact, He delights in doing this because it glorifies the Son, whom the Father loves with a love more profound than we can fathom this side of eternity. Let us strive then for a clean conscience before God through true repentance and embrace the Spirit of renewal who removes from us the pollution of sin as we grow in grace and truth.
"How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God." (Hebrews 9:14)
God doesn’t call us to wring our hands and perform a kind of penance through sadness and being down in the dumps- He calls us to repentance and restoration through Christ’s atoning blood. God’s command is for all to abandon both their sin (as an object of action and thought) and their fundamental attitude towards sin (our love for sin in its various forms) and to simultaneously depend upon Christ’s active obedience (in His lifetime of perfect pursuit of holiness) and His vicarious death on behalf of sinners so as to be made right with God (through His forensic declaration of our being righteous) and to purify our conscience from the slander of Satan, whose accusations against us all, prior to our being born again, are incontrovertible. The Father, in keeping His eternal covenant with the Son, will never fail to justify them whose sins the blood of the Son has covered- He will ever and always be faithful to His promises. In fact, He delights in doing this because it glorifies the Son, whom the Father loves with a love more profound than we can fathom this side of eternity. Let us strive then for a clean conscience before God through true repentance and embrace the Spirit of renewal who removes from us the pollution of sin as we grow in grace and truth.
"How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God." (Hebrews 9:14)
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Greatest Band That Never Was
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... Tigerpony!
Tigerpony consisted of underground legends Zach "Ah-boo" Johnson on larynx-shredding vocals, Joel "Buzz" Amundson on thrashing lead guitar, Ian "C.B." Olson on ripping lead guitar, Jared "Rod" Amundson on luscious synth, Joseph "Hightower" Langer on bass domination, and Joel "Jazzbah" Wallace on assault drums, uniting for all-out aural devastation delivered via D.I.Y. sonic brutality under the banner of awe-inspiring mythical creatures. Their groundbreaking mixture of hardcore and death metal injected the Southern Wisconsin scene with new life through its twin lead guitar harmonies, punishing hyper-blastbeat attacks, bonecrushing doooooooooom riffs, face re-arranging breakdowns, and vocals reminiscent of an exploding nitroglycerine plant. After a Tigerpony set, you had to scrape your consciousness off of the floor and try to fit it back into your soundwave-shattered skull, all while nursing the wounds incurred from the most frenzied mosh pits ever witnessed by man! Their major hit was "Allybatross," an excursion into sludgey, black-encrusted DOOM, punctuated with what could only be described as the guitar equivalent of a 155 mm howitzer bombardment or a panzer blitzkrieg erupting through your speakers, and laced throughout with elegant, soaring keyboard themes. Their time in the limelight was brief, however, as, like so many other period-defining artists, they were simply too far ahead of their own time- their era's zeitgeist simply was not ready for the heretofore-unseen progression Tigerpony exhibited with each new 7" single recorded in Ian's basement. Ultimately, not knowing how to surpass their own work to date, Tigerpony opted to finish on top, and retired the band after a string of hits and unchallenged chart dominance, their legacy firmly established for centuries to come. This left its former members to pursue other projects such as To Contend Against Rome, 324, the Plumed Serpent, Judas Creep, Croatoan, the Dynasty, the Funeral of Being, Neriah, Captive, and many others. Their legions of devoted fans mourn the band's passing to this day and yearn for a return, glorious as the phoenix rising from the ashes, of the late, the great-
Tigerpony.
DISCLAIMER: Choice portions of this band biography are forays into fanciful exaggeration and extreme hyperbole, if not outright fabrications with no bearing in reality whatsoever. But rest assured, for one brief, shining moment, Tigerpony was about the coolest thing happening in Janesville, Wisconsin.*
*Or anywhere, for that matter.
Tigerpony consisted of underground legends Zach "Ah-boo" Johnson on larynx-shredding vocals, Joel "Buzz" Amundson on thrashing lead guitar, Ian "C.B." Olson on ripping lead guitar, Jared "Rod" Amundson on luscious synth, Joseph "Hightower" Langer on bass domination, and Joel "Jazzbah" Wallace on assault drums, uniting for all-out aural devastation delivered via D.I.Y. sonic brutality under the banner of awe-inspiring mythical creatures. Their groundbreaking mixture of hardcore and death metal injected the Southern Wisconsin scene with new life through its twin lead guitar harmonies, punishing hyper-blastbeat attacks, bonecrushing doooooooooom riffs, face re-arranging breakdowns, and vocals reminiscent of an exploding nitroglycerine plant. After a Tigerpony set, you had to scrape your consciousness off of the floor and try to fit it back into your soundwave-shattered skull, all while nursing the wounds incurred from the most frenzied mosh pits ever witnessed by man! Their major hit was "Allybatross," an excursion into sludgey, black-encrusted DOOM, punctuated with what could only be described as the guitar equivalent of a 155 mm howitzer bombardment or a panzer blitzkrieg erupting through your speakers, and laced throughout with elegant, soaring keyboard themes. Their time in the limelight was brief, however, as, like so many other period-defining artists, they were simply too far ahead of their own time- their era's zeitgeist simply was not ready for the heretofore-unseen progression Tigerpony exhibited with each new 7" single recorded in Ian's basement. Ultimately, not knowing how to surpass their own work to date, Tigerpony opted to finish on top, and retired the band after a string of hits and unchallenged chart dominance, their legacy firmly established for centuries to come. This left its former members to pursue other projects such as To Contend Against Rome, 324, the Plumed Serpent, Judas Creep, Croatoan, the Dynasty, the Funeral of Being, Neriah, Captive, and many others. Their legions of devoted fans mourn the band's passing to this day and yearn for a return, glorious as the phoenix rising from the ashes, of the late, the great-
Tigerpony.
DISCLAIMER: Choice portions of this band biography are forays into fanciful exaggeration and extreme hyperbole, if not outright fabrications with no bearing in reality whatsoever. But rest assured, for one brief, shining moment, Tigerpony was about the coolest thing happening in Janesville, Wisconsin.*
*Or anywhere, for that matter.
Monday, November 29, 2010
You can turn the city upside down like an umbrella, but it won't keep you dry
Two years ago, upon this very date, I knew beyond even a shadow of a doubt that I was in love with Kristin.
I had finished my second Black Friday at Farm and Fleet, and the curious delight which I had usually taken in accomplishing banal work-related tasks (I looked at them as a sort of Dilbert reinterpretation of Hercules' Twelve Labours- I told you I was weird!) was extinguished. I guess I had always hoped that I would function as F&F's own Jim from the Office- the dude you want to crack jokes with (taking the job seriously certainly wasn't an option!), pulling harmless pranks and dreaming out loud and providing some kind of approachably cool buffer to all the nonsense that any given job carries with it anymore. The job description sounded appealing, and the role fit comfortably well for a while (I'm the most optimistic cynic I know!), but the facade was eroding by this time that year.
I liked Kristin a ton at that time (mostly because she's incredible, but I digress)- that was never in doubt; only the future of any sort of relationship with her was. We had been friends for years at this point and only very recently then had I summoned the courage to tell her how I truly felt about her (and had for some time!). She made it so much simpler with her gentleness and her receptiveness to all I had to say- she became a real haven for me that year as so much else was crumbling around me spiritually and emotionally. As I approached one of the lowest points I ever have, Kristin made me look forward to each day again. The apartment she shared with her sister Anna became a home away from home I could retreat to after work and seek refuge in until absolutely ludicrous hours of the evening when I would finally throw in the proverbial towel from fatigue and just have to return to my own apartment and crash before work the next day. I wasn't very fond of my apartment- it served as a signal reminder of how alone I had really become (or made myself, rather, in the wake of various upheavals and bad personal responses I gave to them), so I sought Kristin's company at every opportunity and my feelings for her grew by the day.
But Thanksgiving had come and gone and being with Kristin was still a far-off dream to which I clung, but with less and less hope it seemed (I guess she became the Pam to my Jim, in a way). Black Friday came and went, a long, sad day with nothing to look forward to at its ending*. I knew Sarah and Ben's wedding was that Saturday and knowing that I worked that day just kind of got me deeper into my funk. But a call that afternoon from Kristin asking if I would be coming to their reception after work introduced a new variable into the equation. I just remember very vividly, as clearly as if it were just a couple of hours ago, pondering if I should make the drive up there; it feels so odd saying that now, given how badly I wanted to see Kristin, but somehow then it was a very legitimate concern of mine. I remember pacing and fretting until I finally called my mom, and I told her, "I've got to see Kristin. Should I go to Milwaukee?" All she said was, "Go. Drive safe." I feel like I can't communicate how desperate I truly felt- it was as though if I didn't go to Milwaukee to see her that night, my hope of ever being with her would disintegrate forever, and yet I imagined going and nothing coming of it, and then being a Mopey Marvin** for the rest of my life. Writing even this doesn't convey the depth of the heartache that was rending me sinew from sinew. It was nothing short of gut-churning existential angst, an aching to be loved by this girl.
And so, after finishing work and briefly calling my mom, I undertook the journey to Milwaukee solo in my awesome, burgundy Pontiac Bonneville. After an arduous hour and a half journey I arrived at the reception hall and began looking for a parking spot. Having found one behind the reception hall, I turned the car off and sat there a moment, considering one last time if I should go in or not (how ridiculous am I??) before I got my act a little together and made my way to the front doors. No sooner had I reached the door, Kristin came outside holding Josiah (who was far smaller back then!) and I felt settle over me the feeling that I was supposed to be there at that exact time to see her. She was in her bridesmaid's dress, her hair curled... I don't think I've ever seen her more beautiful. I could only marvel at her for a few moments before it occurred to me that I should attempt some sort of communication.
I walked in with her and we spent the evening drying candlewax on our hands, drinking far, far too much Coke (I was pretty wired the rest of the night, which isn't necessarily the best for distraught young men) and requesting bad 80s songs from the DJ, all the while trying not to give away what turmoil I felt that we weren't together (wedding receptions might fan the flames of such turmoil for individuals such as myself- hindsight is 20/20, eh?). I wanted to kill the guy she was paired with for the wedding party's entrance (as a matter of fact, remembering that just now kind of reignites that murderous desire). We hopped from table to table, talking to awkward people and cool ones alike, mocking others' bizarre dance moves out on the floor, and reflecting on the Sarah Heesen that once was and the Sarah Zellmer that now is. We absconded briefly to pick something up from Sarah's apartment, and along the way cranked "My Heart Will Go On," and for the first time in my life I sang full-voiced to the melodramatic Celine Dion classic, belting it at the top of my lungs with Kristin. I looked at Kristin as I rendered (horribly!) the line, "You're here/There's nothing I fear" and we laughed hysterically. And I knew in that very moment that I would only ever love her the rest of my life.
And so, after wrapping up the festivities and dropping off wedding presents at the Zellmer home, I saw the Heesens off to their hotel and began the labyrinthine journey back to Janesville, blasting plenty of emo tunes*** and sobbing out pathetic off-key squeaks of emotional devastation and patheticness.**** So pathetic, in fact, that I got lost somewhere around Lake Geneva, thus amplifying the overall tone of distress that was already present. At long last, I found civilization in the form of the Wal-Mart in Beloit and FTL jumped via I-90 back home, catching a precious couple hours of sleep before opening that Sunday morning. It was a very memorable 12 hours, hours I'm likely to never forget, hours which I cherish despite the sadness I felt then, because it was that night that understanding washed over me like the tide: I loved Kristin, and I was always meant to love her, and nothing would ever change that.
God worked everything together for good, just as He promised He would right from the start, and it is through the lens of grace that I can look back at that year and that night and recognize how God used both that year's ills and Kristin to draw me to Christ; how can I not rejoice that the Sovereign God of the Universe knows my pain and my unrest and brings incredible blessing in and through it? that what I thought then was insignificant, inconsequential emotional duress wasn't for nought? that God redeems the disquiet and the misery of fallen human beings for His glory? It teaches me also to not take for granted my and Kristin's marriage, knowing that there were days once in which I would've given anything to just see her- I cannot take such a privilege lightly now.
The last two years have been great, and things are only getting to get greater. So Ben and Sarah- congratulations! And Kristin- I love you, and always have.
*At what point did I first cross the emo line in this post?? Bwahahahaha!
**I don't actually know what a Mopey Marvin is, but I'm willing to bet it's really emo.
***Especially "Forever Got Shorter" by Braid. Man, that song used to just devastate me!*****
****I know that's not actually a word, yes.
*****Okay, it still kinda can.
I had finished my second Black Friday at Farm and Fleet, and the curious delight which I had usually taken in accomplishing banal work-related tasks (I looked at them as a sort of Dilbert reinterpretation of Hercules' Twelve Labours- I told you I was weird!) was extinguished. I guess I had always hoped that I would function as F&F's own Jim from the Office- the dude you want to crack jokes with (taking the job seriously certainly wasn't an option!), pulling harmless pranks and dreaming out loud and providing some kind of approachably cool buffer to all the nonsense that any given job carries with it anymore. The job description sounded appealing, and the role fit comfortably well for a while (I'm the most optimistic cynic I know!), but the facade was eroding by this time that year.
I liked Kristin a ton at that time (mostly because she's incredible, but I digress)- that was never in doubt; only the future of any sort of relationship with her was. We had been friends for years at this point and only very recently then had I summoned the courage to tell her how I truly felt about her (and had for some time!). She made it so much simpler with her gentleness and her receptiveness to all I had to say- she became a real haven for me that year as so much else was crumbling around me spiritually and emotionally. As I approached one of the lowest points I ever have, Kristin made me look forward to each day again. The apartment she shared with her sister Anna became a home away from home I could retreat to after work and seek refuge in until absolutely ludicrous hours of the evening when I would finally throw in the proverbial towel from fatigue and just have to return to my own apartment and crash before work the next day. I wasn't very fond of my apartment- it served as a signal reminder of how alone I had really become (or made myself, rather, in the wake of various upheavals and bad personal responses I gave to them), so I sought Kristin's company at every opportunity and my feelings for her grew by the day.
But Thanksgiving had come and gone and being with Kristin was still a far-off dream to which I clung, but with less and less hope it seemed (I guess she became the Pam to my Jim, in a way). Black Friday came and went, a long, sad day with nothing to look forward to at its ending*. I knew Sarah and Ben's wedding was that Saturday and knowing that I worked that day just kind of got me deeper into my funk. But a call that afternoon from Kristin asking if I would be coming to their reception after work introduced a new variable into the equation. I just remember very vividly, as clearly as if it were just a couple of hours ago, pondering if I should make the drive up there; it feels so odd saying that now, given how badly I wanted to see Kristin, but somehow then it was a very legitimate concern of mine. I remember pacing and fretting until I finally called my mom, and I told her, "I've got to see Kristin. Should I go to Milwaukee?" All she said was, "Go. Drive safe." I feel like I can't communicate how desperate I truly felt- it was as though if I didn't go to Milwaukee to see her that night, my hope of ever being with her would disintegrate forever, and yet I imagined going and nothing coming of it, and then being a Mopey Marvin** for the rest of my life. Writing even this doesn't convey the depth of the heartache that was rending me sinew from sinew. It was nothing short of gut-churning existential angst, an aching to be loved by this girl.
And so, after finishing work and briefly calling my mom, I undertook the journey to Milwaukee solo in my awesome, burgundy Pontiac Bonneville. After an arduous hour and a half journey I arrived at the reception hall and began looking for a parking spot. Having found one behind the reception hall, I turned the car off and sat there a moment, considering one last time if I should go in or not (how ridiculous am I??) before I got my act a little together and made my way to the front doors. No sooner had I reached the door, Kristin came outside holding Josiah (who was far smaller back then!) and I felt settle over me the feeling that I was supposed to be there at that exact time to see her. She was in her bridesmaid's dress, her hair curled... I don't think I've ever seen her more beautiful. I could only marvel at her for a few moments before it occurred to me that I should attempt some sort of communication.
I walked in with her and we spent the evening drying candlewax on our hands, drinking far, far too much Coke (I was pretty wired the rest of the night, which isn't necessarily the best for distraught young men) and requesting bad 80s songs from the DJ, all the while trying not to give away what turmoil I felt that we weren't together (wedding receptions might fan the flames of such turmoil for individuals such as myself- hindsight is 20/20, eh?). I wanted to kill the guy she was paired with for the wedding party's entrance (as a matter of fact, remembering that just now kind of reignites that murderous desire). We hopped from table to table, talking to awkward people and cool ones alike, mocking others' bizarre dance moves out on the floor, and reflecting on the Sarah Heesen that once was and the Sarah Zellmer that now is. We absconded briefly to pick something up from Sarah's apartment, and along the way cranked "My Heart Will Go On," and for the first time in my life I sang full-voiced to the melodramatic Celine Dion classic, belting it at the top of my lungs with Kristin. I looked at Kristin as I rendered (horribly!) the line, "You're here/There's nothing I fear" and we laughed hysterically. And I knew in that very moment that I would only ever love her the rest of my life.
And so, after wrapping up the festivities and dropping off wedding presents at the Zellmer home, I saw the Heesens off to their hotel and began the labyrinthine journey back to Janesville, blasting plenty of emo tunes*** and sobbing out pathetic off-key squeaks of emotional devastation and patheticness.**** So pathetic, in fact, that I got lost somewhere around Lake Geneva, thus amplifying the overall tone of distress that was already present. At long last, I found civilization in the form of the Wal-Mart in Beloit and FTL jumped via I-90 back home, catching a precious couple hours of sleep before opening that Sunday morning. It was a very memorable 12 hours, hours I'm likely to never forget, hours which I cherish despite the sadness I felt then, because it was that night that understanding washed over me like the tide: I loved Kristin, and I was always meant to love her, and nothing would ever change that.
God worked everything together for good, just as He promised He would right from the start, and it is through the lens of grace that I can look back at that year and that night and recognize how God used both that year's ills and Kristin to draw me to Christ; how can I not rejoice that the Sovereign God of the Universe knows my pain and my unrest and brings incredible blessing in and through it? that what I thought then was insignificant, inconsequential emotional duress wasn't for nought? that God redeems the disquiet and the misery of fallen human beings for His glory? It teaches me also to not take for granted my and Kristin's marriage, knowing that there were days once in which I would've given anything to just see her- I cannot take such a privilege lightly now.
The last two years have been great, and things are only getting to get greater. So Ben and Sarah- congratulations! And Kristin- I love you, and always have.
*At what point did I first cross the emo line in this post?? Bwahahahaha!
**I don't actually know what a Mopey Marvin is, but I'm willing to bet it's really emo.
***Especially "Forever Got Shorter" by Braid. Man, that song used to just devastate me!*****
****I know that's not actually a word, yes.
*****Okay, it still kinda can.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
So whoop-de-doo and hickory dock
It's kinda funny how working in retail can heighten your theological sensitivity.
It's very peculiar to me (especially within the context of working all day on Black Friday!) how Black Friday can both reek of sickening, shallow commercialism and yet usher in the Christmas season with its manifold joys and seeming transformations of conduct at the same time. You see the former in the ravening crowds of product-hungry consumers clobbering one another over the last Barbie Unicorn Princess*, but you also see the latter in the families you've never seen before suddenly shopping and laughing together, and in the warmth of affection you receive unexpectedly from strangers, or overhearing employees wanting to get home to be with their families. I'm accustomed to co-workers wanting to get out of work, but usually for far sketchier things than that! We have constantly, all around us, displays of human depravity allowed to take course as well as of God's restraining power in common grace as human beings give evidence of the condition of their hearts.
Megacorporations want you to buy, buy, buy! because, let's face it, we're good at it. We're coveting machines, not to mention the fact that there's dollars, dollars, dollars to be made off of us greed factories- and so a season comes to be defined by commodity after commodity and purchase after purchase. But to indulge in one of my too-easily-entered-into cynical streaks would be to ignore the many, many glimmers of decency and compassion and tenderheartedness still present at times in our fallen world. So I endeavor instead to bask in the genuinely heartwarming instances of kindness and selflessness and soak in the atmosphere of love and goodwill, but I examine myself in every other instance and ruminate on how those same qualities and attitudes so easily beset me, and I have to admit how I'm no different from even the stingiest, most obnoxious, irate customer that could crash land in the lightbulb aisle** and equally in desperate need of grace. Let us each remember what we were redeemed from and by what means we were (as well as its price), and let us recognize the power and the beauty of God's grace active throughout the world.
*Sorry- I don't know what this year's Tickle Me Elmo or Teletubby is***.
**And he did. Today! He was looking for replacement bulbs for a Weber Bug Zapper. This just in- we've never carried one from Weber! After finding a generic replacement bulb from another company in the Lawn and Garden department, he proceeded to have a bird over the fact that it was from a different manufacturer and was a different size than his. Dude- I told you that straight outta the gate! Recounting the entire episode would probably fry too many of your brain cells to really justify posting it.
***'Cause I'm all about Transformers every year!
It's very peculiar to me (especially within the context of working all day on Black Friday!) how Black Friday can both reek of sickening, shallow commercialism and yet usher in the Christmas season with its manifold joys and seeming transformations of conduct at the same time. You see the former in the ravening crowds of product-hungry consumers clobbering one another over the last Barbie Unicorn Princess*, but you also see the latter in the families you've never seen before suddenly shopping and laughing together, and in the warmth of affection you receive unexpectedly from strangers, or overhearing employees wanting to get home to be with their families. I'm accustomed to co-workers wanting to get out of work, but usually for far sketchier things than that! We have constantly, all around us, displays of human depravity allowed to take course as well as of God's restraining power in common grace as human beings give evidence of the condition of their hearts.
Megacorporations want you to buy, buy, buy! because, let's face it, we're good at it. We're coveting machines, not to mention the fact that there's dollars, dollars, dollars to be made off of us greed factories- and so a season comes to be defined by commodity after commodity and purchase after purchase. But to indulge in one of my too-easily-entered-into cynical streaks would be to ignore the many, many glimmers of decency and compassion and tenderheartedness still present at times in our fallen world. So I endeavor instead to bask in the genuinely heartwarming instances of kindness and selflessness and soak in the atmosphere of love and goodwill, but I examine myself in every other instance and ruminate on how those same qualities and attitudes so easily beset me, and I have to admit how I'm no different from even the stingiest, most obnoxious, irate customer that could crash land in the lightbulb aisle** and equally in desperate need of grace. Let us each remember what we were redeemed from and by what means we were (as well as its price), and let us recognize the power and the beauty of God's grace active throughout the world.
*Sorry- I don't know what this year's Tickle Me Elmo or Teletubby is***.
**And he did. Today! He was looking for replacement bulbs for a Weber Bug Zapper. This just in- we've never carried one from Weber! After finding a generic replacement bulb from another company in the Lawn and Garden department, he proceeded to have a bird over the fact that it was from a different manufacturer and was a different size than his. Dude- I told you that straight outta the gate! Recounting the entire episode would probably fry too many of your brain cells to really justify posting it.
***'Cause I'm all about Transformers every year!
Friday, November 26, 2010
...NOW, I'm addicted to LOVE
I'm thankful for my beautiful wife who loves me in spite of how weird I really am (and believe me, I am (in spades!)), for my family, my church, my friends (extra special holla to Buzz, Rod, and Zach!), my internship and everything that goes along with it week by week, my job at Farm and Fleet (and every 18 volt Milwaukee drill you've been saving for and every 9/16 carriage bolt I have to send you to Ace for), my 2005 Chevy Malibu Maxx faithfully getting us all over the Continental Midwest, our cozy apartment conveniently down the road from Palmer Park, my Ghostbusters Ecto-1 Christmas ornament from Grandma, sheesh! my Grandma, we can't forget her (or just lump her into a group!), our 2 Christmas trees, Kristin's mad baking skills, new bookshelves, shoes that fit my obnoxiously big feet, warm sweaters, the Amundsons' firearm collection (Jeah! Jeah! Jeah!), black labs, Xbox 360s, pumpkin pie, cologne to mask when I haven't taken a shower, football, penguins, Christmas songs on the radio all day every day, a couch so comfortable that it takes serious effort to not pass out in it just laying down for even a minute, sugar-coated pecans, birds flying in Vs, autumn leaves, that perpetual and inescapable November burning smell, guitars, a working shower with hot water (!), the light-up snowman in our hallway, Lucas our plant, Wheeljack our hamster, this very latop I'm typing on right now... the list could go on and on and on. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 says, "Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." Let's take that to heart and attribute glory to God in every blessing He bestows, day in, day out, without fail.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Wait! What's Backwards "Gisney??"
I guess there is a part of me that is a little heartbroken that I will probably never share in the triumph of such Beard and Mustache Champions as these:
And they even dress sharp, too!
And they even dress sharp, too!
Jeremy, I guess I can't promise anything truly definitive, but my ambition henceforth is to one day contend for Ultimate Beard status in Leogang, Germany- and I'll even give you a shout-out in my acceptance speech if my dream becomes reality.
If they have acceptance speeches.
Man, I have to learn German...
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Hello? Purposes just got intense!
I'm a little amazed that Kristin still has anything to do with me when my "beard" (believe me, the quotation marks are necessary) looks as haggard as it does. A motley collection of random, unsightly whiskers doth not a beard make! It's times like these that covenant faithfulness keeps you going- when vigor has long since departed and feelings seek to dominate the will, a good old fashioned berith can keep the spring in your step as you persevere to ultimate victory!
Even when the victory in question is just surviving No Shave November. But sometimes that's victory enough!
Even when the victory in question is just surviving No Shave November. But sometimes that's victory enough!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Jenna's the curtains!
The Peter who penned the lines, "Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution" (1 Peter 2:13) is the same Peter who said, "We must obey God rather than men" (Acts 5:29). Clearly, outright rebellion as a rule of life is forbidden for the Christian; believers are not to be one-man Viking raiding crews, charting their own egocentric courses across the seven seas, plundering and pillaging whatever they find personally inconvenient.* On the other hand though, we are not to unthinkingly align ourselves with every program and wind of doctrine that comes our way. Tempest-toss'd sea, anyone? The dividing line is in giving to Caesar what is his and giving to God what is His; Caesar gets his blasted taxes, but not our worship, our hearts, or our minds. Though we find ourselves within a given culture, we do not accomodate ourselves to the culture. Positive submission to God's will rather than self-serving defiance (which is by definition negative) should define our character.
The attitude of perpetual defiance is not a mark of regeneration- it is a mark of fallen humanity's desire to be their own authority. This is not to say that we're not swimming against the stream, because we are. The fact of the matter is that we are encamped in enemy territory; we have, by grace, come to recognize and love the values by which the world was first defined, and we are met with the antagonism of a world which redefines those values as it sees fit. This antagonism, however, still finds a home base in that part of our hearts which does not yet submit fully to God- it strikes a chord within us due to that sinfulness that is still a part of us. This is what we have to burn down and walk away from (to repeat my mad ramblings yet again!)- not necessarily always a structure or guild or something over us, but the underlying depravity that is still within us that finds commonality with the institution or whatever the thing is in question. That is what needs to be put to death, the sin we still cling to that finds its corresponding jigsaw puzzle piece in the world.
Pastor Bob's message yesterday on Ephesians 5:15-21 touched on the many aspects of submission that are manifest in the Christian's life, especially as touches the unity of the church. One of the main thrusts of the message was that submission is a defining characteristic of the believer, as true submission is possible for the first time in the renewed heart and will of one indwelt by the Holy Spirit. Yielding to the authority of the church is the evidence of having yielded to Christ's lordship for salvation! Having been the lone wolf type for many years (and deriving great glee from upsetting everyone along the way), it is both admonishment and encouragement to me to realize that submission is how I demonstrate the reality of my love for Christ. Knowing that I have been empowered to do so joyfully and yet often still do not compels me to pour my heart out to God in prayer and plead for a heart like Christ's, whose greatest joy was in submitting to the Father. Bob reminded us yesterday that He will subject Himself to the Father for eternity- hearing that definitely softened my heart to the idea of surrendering some of the "rights" that I think I have!
Pictures of Josiah and Jenna from this weekend soften my heart as well- seeing them jump on the trampoline whenever Laurie played the right music was one of the funniest things from the past week for me. A.J. is an adorable little nugget! Jenna wearing Kristin's scarf around her head and wandering around like an itinerant Russian widow with drool all over the front of her shirt was hilarious too! Josiah protesting that Auntie Kristin was sitting in his thinking chair? Priceless. I wonder what he would say if he saw the mass of terrifying growth I've been calling a beard for the last few days.
I shudder to think.
The attitude of perpetual defiance is not a mark of regeneration- it is a mark of fallen humanity's desire to be their own authority. This is not to say that we're not swimming against the stream, because we are. The fact of the matter is that we are encamped in enemy territory; we have, by grace, come to recognize and love the values by which the world was first defined, and we are met with the antagonism of a world which redefines those values as it sees fit. This antagonism, however, still finds a home base in that part of our hearts which does not yet submit fully to God- it strikes a chord within us due to that sinfulness that is still a part of us. This is what we have to burn down and walk away from (to repeat my mad ramblings yet again!)- not necessarily always a structure or guild or something over us, but the underlying depravity that is still within us that finds commonality with the institution or whatever the thing is in question. That is what needs to be put to death, the sin we still cling to that finds its corresponding jigsaw puzzle piece in the world.
Pastor Bob's message yesterday on Ephesians 5:15-21 touched on the many aspects of submission that are manifest in the Christian's life, especially as touches the unity of the church. One of the main thrusts of the message was that submission is a defining characteristic of the believer, as true submission is possible for the first time in the renewed heart and will of one indwelt by the Holy Spirit. Yielding to the authority of the church is the evidence of having yielded to Christ's lordship for salvation! Having been the lone wolf type for many years (and deriving great glee from upsetting everyone along the way), it is both admonishment and encouragement to me to realize that submission is how I demonstrate the reality of my love for Christ. Knowing that I have been empowered to do so joyfully and yet often still do not compels me to pour my heart out to God in prayer and plead for a heart like Christ's, whose greatest joy was in submitting to the Father. Bob reminded us yesterday that He will subject Himself to the Father for eternity- hearing that definitely softened my heart to the idea of surrendering some of the "rights" that I think I have!
Pictures of Josiah and Jenna from this weekend soften my heart as well- seeing them jump on the trampoline whenever Laurie played the right music was one of the funniest things from the past week for me. A.J. is an adorable little nugget! Jenna wearing Kristin's scarf around her head and wandering around like an itinerant Russian widow with drool all over the front of her shirt was hilarious too! Josiah protesting that Auntie Kristin was sitting in his thinking chair? Priceless. I wonder what he would say if he saw the mass of terrifying growth I've been calling a beard for the last few days.
I shudder to think.
Thank you Lord, for nieces and nephews, and for jobs, and for sermons, for supernaturally-gifted humility, for reminders, for S'Mores Pop-Tarts (although they're super unhealthy!), for guitars, for sweaters, for Mexican restaurants less than a block from where you live, and yes... for beards.
*Seriously though, Vikings were a bunch of jerks. For real. And if you want to defend them, well, you're probably a jerk too.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Five Year Winter
Due to the fairly-recent reference to them a couple of posts ago as well as to the growing influence of the beard, I've had Zao stuck in my head fairly non-stop. Well... let me qualify that. Certainly I've had the tune itself on Repeat within my consciousness, but what has actually been circulating even more is the phrase itself, "Burn it down and walk away." Simple. Exhortative. Brilliant.
Encumbered by the cares of the world? Burn it down and walk away.
Ensnared by the fear of man? Burn it down and walk away.
Strangled by the demands of the workplace? Burn it down and walk away.
Alienated by political agendas? Burn it down and walk away.
Mired in the pursuit of possessions? Burn it down and walk away.
Chained to the desire for approval? Burn it down and walk away.
Enslaved to pressures of culture? Burn it down and walk away.
Vexed by the compulsion to over-achieve? Burn it down and walk away.
Guilt-ridden by the past? Burn it down and walk away.
Disenfranchised by the currents of popular opinion? Burn it down and walk away.
So to qualify a bit further, I of course don't mean that armed uprising is in order or anything ridiculous like that, so please don't go join a militia or start stocking up on reverse osmosis purified water and first aid kits. I mean nothing revolutionary in the geo-political sense. What I do mean is something more revolutionary in an eschatological sense. We live now in Christ's inaugurated Kingdom, having been delivered from the domain of darkness (Colossians 1:13). We await the full manifestation of His reign at the end of the present age, when the Kingdom is consummated and the Eternal State is instituted with a new heavens and a new earth. The covenant community lives and works and plays and eats and breathes and does everything else in an era of "now, but not yet" as we enjoy some of the blessings of the Kingdom within the context of a still-fallen world.
All that to say: we are not a part of a world that is perishing. We die daily to it! So why am I so often bogged down by temporary things that are passing away? Part of it is of course my own fault as I make idols of various things, but some of it is simply due to my losing perspective on God's eternal purposes and instead fixing my gaze upon things that are here today and gone in about three and a half minutes... if it lasts even that long! The commitment of my heart to vain, impermanent things serves in no way to lift me up, it only deprives me of traction and plants me more deeply into a quagmire of worthless fretting!
I really need to ask myself why I spend money on what is not bread and why I labor for that which doesn't satisfy (Isaiah 55:1-2). Why bother with idols? God is like an evergreen cyprus, and from Him comes my fruit (Hosea 14:8). With winter coming, idols make for some great firewood, and the warmth will help me in redeeming the time. And even though I won't be joining a militia, it will be a battle. The battle, however, is not against flesh and blood- it is against the powers of spiritual darkness (Ephesians 6:12). The war isn't waged with the weapons of armies but rather with the power of God (2 Corinthians 10:4); and Zao will be my soundtrack at that those perplexing times when the fight rears its not-particularly-pretty cabesa and I need the reminder to just burn it down and walk away.
Now I just feel pumped to be in a boxing match... but I think that's the beard talking.
Encumbered by the cares of the world? Burn it down and walk away.
Ensnared by the fear of man? Burn it down and walk away.
Strangled by the demands of the workplace? Burn it down and walk away.
Alienated by political agendas? Burn it down and walk away.
Mired in the pursuit of possessions? Burn it down and walk away.
Chained to the desire for approval? Burn it down and walk away.
Enslaved to pressures of culture? Burn it down and walk away.
Vexed by the compulsion to over-achieve? Burn it down and walk away.
Guilt-ridden by the past? Burn it down and walk away.
Disenfranchised by the currents of popular opinion? Burn it down and walk away.
So to qualify a bit further, I of course don't mean that armed uprising is in order or anything ridiculous like that, so please don't go join a militia or start stocking up on reverse osmosis purified water and first aid kits. I mean nothing revolutionary in the geo-political sense. What I do mean is something more revolutionary in an eschatological sense. We live now in Christ's inaugurated Kingdom, having been delivered from the domain of darkness (Colossians 1:13). We await the full manifestation of His reign at the end of the present age, when the Kingdom is consummated and the Eternal State is instituted with a new heavens and a new earth. The covenant community lives and works and plays and eats and breathes and does everything else in an era of "now, but not yet" as we enjoy some of the blessings of the Kingdom within the context of a still-fallen world.
All that to say: we are not a part of a world that is perishing. We die daily to it! So why am I so often bogged down by temporary things that are passing away? Part of it is of course my own fault as I make idols of various things, but some of it is simply due to my losing perspective on God's eternal purposes and instead fixing my gaze upon things that are here today and gone in about three and a half minutes... if it lasts even that long! The commitment of my heart to vain, impermanent things serves in no way to lift me up, it only deprives me of traction and plants me more deeply into a quagmire of worthless fretting!
I really need to ask myself why I spend money on what is not bread and why I labor for that which doesn't satisfy (Isaiah 55:1-2). Why bother with idols? God is like an evergreen cyprus, and from Him comes my fruit (Hosea 14:8). With winter coming, idols make for some great firewood, and the warmth will help me in redeeming the time. And even though I won't be joining a militia, it will be a battle. The battle, however, is not against flesh and blood- it is against the powers of spiritual darkness (Ephesians 6:12). The war isn't waged with the weapons of armies but rather with the power of God (2 Corinthians 10:4); and Zao will be my soundtrack at that those perplexing times when the fight rears its not-particularly-pretty cabesa and I need the reminder to just burn it down and walk away.
Now I just feel pumped to be in a boxing match... but I think that's the beard talking.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Well, he wants his coat and he hates him
Day 6 of my journey into the Heart of Beardness. Only time will tell if this is a futile attempt at ridiculous macho nonsense or if it will in fact be a many-splendoured thing unheralded in the history of my face.
Either way, God is good.
The last few days have witnessed enormous developments in my own sanctification as, by God's grace, I've come to grips with several failings on my part with relationships and with the impact my family has had on me throughout my lifetime. God has endeared Himself to me more deeply than ever as a Heavenly Father, for He knows my frame and remembers that I am dust (Psalm 103:14). He knows in particular that I feel a burden for my father and yearn to redress years of heartache associated with our life together, and He knows perfectly that I am too timid to tackle the challenge head-on myself. He knows that though I feel such passion in my heart to speak the truth in love, part of me is still that nervous little boy who fears the revoking of love if his heart is laid bare and people are called to account for their actions.
God knows that for progress to be made and for this floodwater to be crossed, He will have to take the initiative and lay for me a precise series of stepping stones that I may move forward and not be swept into the deluge; God knows that I need a Sovereign who mercifully leads His children along the way and is with them every moment and every step; God knows that I need a director and a script supervisor to ensure that the words come out right and convey perfectly what needs to be said; God knows that I need a furnace of fortitude in my heart and that He must pump the fuel of courage into it steadily that I will not falter. God knows this all and promises that He will never forsake His people and He will never abandon His heritage (Psalm 94:14).
God brought me across the waters and kept my feet from slipping, and Monday was simply an amazing day as twenty-six years worth of baggage was discussed and examined. Much was brought to light; understanding was imparted, and a heavy, strangling burden was lifted off of my shoulders. It was so revolutionary, in fact, that I felt like a new man! I had many, many friends interceding in prayer and I can only say thank you from the bottom of my heart. The effectual fervent prayer of the righteous does avail much.
As tattered strands of relationships are re-sewn and strengthened by grace, humility, and forgiveness, I can only praise God for His many mighty works and wonder at how I should be the recipient of so many blessings. Ponder soon and ponder deeply on what God has blessed you with, marvel at the question of why you should be gifted with these things and not others, and resolve to seek God's enabling power to further His purpose where He has placed you with what He has equipped you with.
Quick! Name six things to be thankful for!
1. Boss is 23!
2. A.J. has tons of hair!
3. Joel is divebombing with school-owned airplanes out west!
4. Jeremy looks great in scrubs and Wolverine mutton chops!
5. Kristin melts my heart with her smile!
6. I found out how to rotate the tires of our Malibu myself!*
Shalom!
*Albeit in a time so pathetic I would be disqualified from ever participating in any NASCAR pit crew.**
**Not that I would ever do that anyway. I have this pet peeve for ludicrously stupid things.
Either way, God is good.
The last few days have witnessed enormous developments in my own sanctification as, by God's grace, I've come to grips with several failings on my part with relationships and with the impact my family has had on me throughout my lifetime. God has endeared Himself to me more deeply than ever as a Heavenly Father, for He knows my frame and remembers that I am dust (Psalm 103:14). He knows in particular that I feel a burden for my father and yearn to redress years of heartache associated with our life together, and He knows perfectly that I am too timid to tackle the challenge head-on myself. He knows that though I feel such passion in my heart to speak the truth in love, part of me is still that nervous little boy who fears the revoking of love if his heart is laid bare and people are called to account for their actions.
God knows that for progress to be made and for this floodwater to be crossed, He will have to take the initiative and lay for me a precise series of stepping stones that I may move forward and not be swept into the deluge; God knows that I need a Sovereign who mercifully leads His children along the way and is with them every moment and every step; God knows that I need a director and a script supervisor to ensure that the words come out right and convey perfectly what needs to be said; God knows that I need a furnace of fortitude in my heart and that He must pump the fuel of courage into it steadily that I will not falter. God knows this all and promises that He will never forsake His people and He will never abandon His heritage (Psalm 94:14).
God brought me across the waters and kept my feet from slipping, and Monday was simply an amazing day as twenty-six years worth of baggage was discussed and examined. Much was brought to light; understanding was imparted, and a heavy, strangling burden was lifted off of my shoulders. It was so revolutionary, in fact, that I felt like a new man! I had many, many friends interceding in prayer and I can only say thank you from the bottom of my heart. The effectual fervent prayer of the righteous does avail much.
As tattered strands of relationships are re-sewn and strengthened by grace, humility, and forgiveness, I can only praise God for His many mighty works and wonder at how I should be the recipient of so many blessings. Ponder soon and ponder deeply on what God has blessed you with, marvel at the question of why you should be gifted with these things and not others, and resolve to seek God's enabling power to further His purpose where He has placed you with what He has equipped you with.
Quick! Name six things to be thankful for!
1. Boss is 23!
2. A.J. has tons of hair!
3. Joel is divebombing with school-owned airplanes out west!
4. Jeremy looks great in scrubs and Wolverine mutton chops!
5. Kristin melts my heart with her smile!
6. I found out how to rotate the tires of our Malibu myself!*
Shalom!
*Albeit in a time so pathetic I would be disqualified from ever participating in any NASCAR pit crew.**
**Not that I would ever do that anyway. I have this pet peeve for ludicrously stupid things.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Do, or do not. There is no try.
Ladies and gentlemen of the assembly, I have covenanted to bind myself with others for No Shave November.
That's right. I'm growing a beard.
Well... I'm going to try to, at least.
That's right. I'm growing a beard.
Well... I'm going to try to, at least.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Testing the Waters
Yesterday during my sojourning in the land of Illinois, I was assigned a job I've never had before.
I had the distinct privilege of hauling a baptistry from Morning Star in Rockford over to Tabernacle Baptist in Hanover Park. I had never even heard of Hanover Park. The job, however, remained.
Only the most dauntless of interns could rise to the challenge.
Actually, Jeremy was more than up to the task. I was coming down anyway so I was thrown onto the mission as back-up and as cannon fodder for jokes.
I rose to the challenge.
If I had my Illinois geography down better, I would've known that Hanover Park is a suburb of Chicago. that's a ways to haul a big tub! Upon arriving with a trailer, Jeremy and I securely fastened the baptistry with ratchet straps and... folding chairs? Yes. All manner of common items were utilized to keep said tub good and snug. Penguin hand towels were employed, yes (we don't want scrapes getting on the veneer now, do we?), and duct tape. Always duct tape.
I admit to wondering how long our makeshift caravan was going to hold together, but we eventually made to Hanover Park, and by gum! There was a baptistry, a folding chair duct taped to the floor of the trailer, two cement bricks, and two buckets of blacktop sealer!
Pastor Matt Black arrived after a little while and helped us set the baptistry up in a back room of his church and I at last met the man Jeremy speaks so highly of, and rightly so- he's an awesome guy! He was missionary to Spain for four and a half years before being called to Tabernacle, where he's pastored now for five years. God has used him to turn tabernacle around 180 degrees from lockstep fundamentalism to Reformed in that period of time and he says it's been a tremendous blessing for him and for his congregation.
We ate at Portillo's and tried to ignore the massive influx of calories coming our way, happily mowing down chili dogs, hamburgers, and cheese fries while reflecting on hermeneutics and amillennialism. That's a lunch, in my book! Pastor Matt was very encouraging, very insightful and knowledgeable, and very humble. He clearly loves the Lord and his congregation. He also enjoys scaring interns.
Driving in Pastor Matt's van from his church to go have lunch, he definitely tested the wide-eyed intern sitting in the (of course) back seat. The street directly in front of his church is split by a median, so it's effectively right turn only to leave Tabernacle. Imagine my surprise when he turned left to go to the restaurant. I gulped (twice, if I recall correctly) as we swung headlong into oncoming traffic. I fought the impulse to express my alarm and tried unsuccessfully to suppress the tightening of my esophagus and lungs. Fight of flight has limited application in the back seats of vans, I think.
I finally mustered an, "Um...?" (brilliant) just before Matt hopped the median to join traffic heading towards Portillo's. At last- it all made sense. I probably should've seen it coming.
Me: Oh, I got it.
Matt: What, were you a little worried there?
Me: Well, you know. I didn't want to sound like the typical intern and point out you were going the wrong way-
Jeremy: Every intern gets scared.
Matt: (to Jeremy) You got scared the first time I did that!
Jeremy: Okay, yeah, you're right.
Me: (to Matt) I should've figured you'd want to initiate me too.
Yesterday's odyssey continued with the adventure that is voting in Janesville, Wisconsin. After taking Kristin to the wrong school and realizing that I've been voting in the wrong ward for the last three years, we went over to Marshall Middle School which is literally right across the street from us. After address confusion and establishing my identity, it was a breeze! Mission accomplished. It's fascinating to me to reflect on how I am a Christian before I am an American, and before I claim any ties to any political party. I say "ties" because my allegiance is not to a party. My allegiance is to Christ and my citizenship is in Heaven. So even though I did vote along party lines, it is certainly not because I belong to the Republican party or even that I identify myself with them. As many differences as can be claimed between me and them, I nevertheless in good conscience couldn't pursue another option; in my heart of hearts I would be compromising too many non-negotiables. So to quote Zao, "Burn it down and walk away!"*
What an awesome day.
*For those of you that are afraid that I incited an act of terrorism, Zao is a hardcore band and I didn't burn anything. But I did walk away!
I had the distinct privilege of hauling a baptistry from Morning Star in Rockford over to Tabernacle Baptist in Hanover Park. I had never even heard of Hanover Park. The job, however, remained.
Only the most dauntless of interns could rise to the challenge.
Actually, Jeremy was more than up to the task. I was coming down anyway so I was thrown onto the mission as back-up and as cannon fodder for jokes.
I rose to the challenge.
If I had my Illinois geography down better, I would've known that Hanover Park is a suburb of Chicago. that's a ways to haul a big tub! Upon arriving with a trailer, Jeremy and I securely fastened the baptistry with ratchet straps and... folding chairs? Yes. All manner of common items were utilized to keep said tub good and snug. Penguin hand towels were employed, yes (we don't want scrapes getting on the veneer now, do we?), and duct tape. Always duct tape.
I admit to wondering how long our makeshift caravan was going to hold together, but we eventually made to Hanover Park, and by gum! There was a baptistry, a folding chair duct taped to the floor of the trailer, two cement bricks, and two buckets of blacktop sealer!
Pastor Matt Black arrived after a little while and helped us set the baptistry up in a back room of his church and I at last met the man Jeremy speaks so highly of, and rightly so- he's an awesome guy! He was missionary to Spain for four and a half years before being called to Tabernacle, where he's pastored now for five years. God has used him to turn tabernacle around 180 degrees from lockstep fundamentalism to Reformed in that period of time and he says it's been a tremendous blessing for him and for his congregation.
We ate at Portillo's and tried to ignore the massive influx of calories coming our way, happily mowing down chili dogs, hamburgers, and cheese fries while reflecting on hermeneutics and amillennialism. That's a lunch, in my book! Pastor Matt was very encouraging, very insightful and knowledgeable, and very humble. He clearly loves the Lord and his congregation. He also enjoys scaring interns.
Driving in Pastor Matt's van from his church to go have lunch, he definitely tested the wide-eyed intern sitting in the (of course) back seat. The street directly in front of his church is split by a median, so it's effectively right turn only to leave Tabernacle. Imagine my surprise when he turned left to go to the restaurant. I gulped (twice, if I recall correctly) as we swung headlong into oncoming traffic. I fought the impulse to express my alarm and tried unsuccessfully to suppress the tightening of my esophagus and lungs. Fight of flight has limited application in the back seats of vans, I think.
I finally mustered an, "Um...?" (brilliant) just before Matt hopped the median to join traffic heading towards Portillo's. At last- it all made sense. I probably should've seen it coming.
Me: Oh, I got it.
Matt: What, were you a little worried there?
Me: Well, you know. I didn't want to sound like the typical intern and point out you were going the wrong way-
Jeremy: Every intern gets scared.
Matt: (to Jeremy) You got scared the first time I did that!
Jeremy: Okay, yeah, you're right.
Me: (to Matt) I should've figured you'd want to initiate me too.
Yesterday's odyssey continued with the adventure that is voting in Janesville, Wisconsin. After taking Kristin to the wrong school and realizing that I've been voting in the wrong ward for the last three years, we went over to Marshall Middle School which is literally right across the street from us. After address confusion and establishing my identity, it was a breeze! Mission accomplished. It's fascinating to me to reflect on how I am a Christian before I am an American, and before I claim any ties to any political party. I say "ties" because my allegiance is not to a party. My allegiance is to Christ and my citizenship is in Heaven. So even though I did vote along party lines, it is certainly not because I belong to the Republican party or even that I identify myself with them. As many differences as can be claimed between me and them, I nevertheless in good conscience couldn't pursue another option; in my heart of hearts I would be compromising too many non-negotiables. So to quote Zao, "Burn it down and walk away!"*
What an awesome day.
*For those of you that are afraid that I incited an act of terrorism, Zao is a hardcore band and I didn't burn anything. But I did walk away!
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Sketches from a Young Married Intern's Album
Can anyone else believe that Kristin and I have been married for over a year now?? I still can't! Looking back on the past year, there's certainly a weight of history to reflect upon, and I can acknowledge that a lot happened, but a year? It doesn't feel like a year! I can remember when a month seemed like an eternity, much less a year- when you recollected a year back then, it viscerally felt like 365.25 days, and then some! It's unbelievable to me that a year should go so fast, yet at the same time, it's not completely shocking. Time flies when you're having fun, and marriage is fun!*
We spent Friday the 15th in Lake Geneva at a resort overlooking the lake. I was shooting for fancy, but holy smoke, that place was sumptuous! Two hundred dollar dinners taste even better when they're complementary, I've found... not that filet mignon and New York Strip really have to improve any.
The rest of our weekend was spent at the Kalahari Resort in Wisconsin Dells, where we checked out the indoor waterpark, the theme park, and their very own haunted house. Their... not so awesome haunted house, complete with 40-something bald guy hitting on teenage girls, obnoxious tour guides complaining about her schedule and pay, and 5 minute tour of not-particularly-terrifying sights in an old farmhouse. I'm not complaining, honest! It was certainly a memorable evening and weekend. Praise God for his blessing on our marriage, now and always.
My internship is going really well- so well, in fact, that's it's deceptively easy to take for granted how cool an opportunity it is to apprentice under the pastors at Morning Star. Every experience they train me for and guide me through is so edifying and humbling; their importance in equipping me is so vividly felt. I appreciate so much the chance that they've given me in taking me on and investing themselves in my training, and it's just plain a hoot getting to hang out with them throughout the week. The Leadership Team meetings are these singular mixtures of blood-earnest contemplation and (infrequent) shenannigans. Case in point: Henry, upon noticing that everyone brought their laptop to last night's meeting except for him inquiring if there was a general laptop reminder e-mail forwarded to everyone except him. Disappointed, he grabs a nearby tablet to scrawl some notes, when Jeremy suddenly asks, "Where's the pizza you were supposed to bring?"
Henry: Oh, I guess I screwed that one up?
Ian: I'm the intern, stupid mistakes like that are supposed to be my job.
Jeremy: Well, we do rely on you for that!
Henry: That's why I have you saved in my phone as "InternIan."
I pretended to laugh, but I think everyone knows I was crying inside.
Driving home today was like an obstacle course in a car commercial, owing to all of the green recycling bins the wind had strewn throughout the streets. Swerving through an intricate, twisting labyrinth of recycling collections is not typical fare here in Janesville.
Was that random? Yes.
*Well, mine at least!
We spent Friday the 15th in Lake Geneva at a resort overlooking the lake. I was shooting for fancy, but holy smoke, that place was sumptuous! Two hundred dollar dinners taste even better when they're complementary, I've found... not that filet mignon and New York Strip really have to improve any.
The rest of our weekend was spent at the Kalahari Resort in Wisconsin Dells, where we checked out the indoor waterpark, the theme park, and their very own haunted house. Their... not so awesome haunted house, complete with 40-something bald guy hitting on teenage girls, obnoxious tour guides complaining about her schedule and pay, and 5 minute tour of not-particularly-terrifying sights in an old farmhouse. I'm not complaining, honest! It was certainly a memorable evening and weekend. Praise God for his blessing on our marriage, now and always.
My internship is going really well- so well, in fact, that's it's deceptively easy to take for granted how cool an opportunity it is to apprentice under the pastors at Morning Star. Every experience they train me for and guide me through is so edifying and humbling; their importance in equipping me is so vividly felt. I appreciate so much the chance that they've given me in taking me on and investing themselves in my training, and it's just plain a hoot getting to hang out with them throughout the week. The Leadership Team meetings are these singular mixtures of blood-earnest contemplation and (infrequent) shenannigans. Case in point: Henry, upon noticing that everyone brought their laptop to last night's meeting except for him inquiring if there was a general laptop reminder e-mail forwarded to everyone except him. Disappointed, he grabs a nearby tablet to scrawl some notes, when Jeremy suddenly asks, "Where's the pizza you were supposed to bring?"
Henry: Oh, I guess I screwed that one up?
Ian: I'm the intern, stupid mistakes like that are supposed to be my job.
Jeremy: Well, we do rely on you for that!
Henry: That's why I have you saved in my phone as "InternIan."
I pretended to laugh, but I think everyone knows I was crying inside.
Driving home today was like an obstacle course in a car commercial, owing to all of the green recycling bins the wind had strewn throughout the streets. Swerving through an intricate, twisting labyrinth of recycling collections is not typical fare here in Janesville.
Was that random? Yes.
*Well, mine at least!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Spirit and the Bride Say, "Come"
I feel deeply moved when I think of the world these days, specifically the world amidst the backdrop of the Gospel. The hopelessness of the world's hostility towards God and the claims of Scripture inspire great grief in my heart. I feel an intense sorrow that the creature spurns and rejects the Creator, and that that for which we are all made is that which we despise and want nothing to do with.
There is nowhere that the light of Christ has not revealed itself. John 1:9-11 says, "The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him." That the Son of Man, who is our peace, should be scorned and despised dismays me to the utmost. Now, it does not elicit a desire in me for reprisal or a longing for vengeance, or anything of the sort- only heartache due to the hatred of Christ and to the self-condemnation of the world.
It makes me long for eternity at times that I may at last experience the perfect reconciliation of all reality with God and the joy of sinlessness and perfect communion with Him. I am in a strait between two worlds. I have one foot in the world that is and one foot in the world that is to be, but my desire for that world to be is not mere escapism from weariness here and now. Rather, I long for the consummation of the created order and the fulfillment of God's purpose in history, through which all strivings shall at last cease. Though God has granted me innumerable blessings here and now, I know that these are signposts pointing to the age to come when nothing and no one can ever be an idol again, when God will be glorified and enjoyed by His people with the infinite capacity that He alone possesses to glorify and enjoy Himself, and I say, "Come, Lord Jesus."
There is nowhere that the light of Christ has not revealed itself. John 1:9-11 says, "The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him." That the Son of Man, who is our peace, should be scorned and despised dismays me to the utmost. Now, it does not elicit a desire in me for reprisal or a longing for vengeance, or anything of the sort- only heartache due to the hatred of Christ and to the self-condemnation of the world.
It makes me long for eternity at times that I may at last experience the perfect reconciliation of all reality with God and the joy of sinlessness and perfect communion with Him. I am in a strait between two worlds. I have one foot in the world that is and one foot in the world that is to be, but my desire for that world to be is not mere escapism from weariness here and now. Rather, I long for the consummation of the created order and the fulfillment of God's purpose in history, through which all strivings shall at last cease. Though God has granted me innumerable blessings here and now, I know that these are signposts pointing to the age to come when nothing and no one can ever be an idol again, when God will be glorified and enjoyed by His people with the infinite capacity that He alone possesses to glorify and enjoy Himself, and I say, "Come, Lord Jesus."
Monday, October 11, 2010
MAWWIAGE is what bwings us togethew tewday.
Woohoo! My friend Pete Brotzman was married yesterday at Devil's Lake to his beloved Theresa and it was a pleasure attending and being there for them. Pete is such a righteous dude! It's amazing that him, Eli (his brother), and Joseph are all getting married this year, and talking to all of them, you just see God's fingerprints all over it.
Kristin and I will have be celebrating our first anniversary this Sunday- how incredible is that?? I've been reflecting so much lately on how awe-inspiring it is that I am loved. Loved at all- in the least! It defies common sense to me, to be totally honest. Me, in all of my imperfections and flaws, my infuriating idiosyncrasies, my oddities and my wrongdoings, am loved, and loved by the coolest girl in the cosmos at that! It's marvelous beyond words that in spite of all of this I am cherished and longed for. And if true for Kristin, how much more so for the One before whom all of these deficiencies are infinitely more glaring? For whom it would be altogether appropriate to sever all bonds with me and leave me to myself, whom I fail time and time again? As Kristin and I, and now Pete and Theresa, are bound by covenantal, unceasing love, so are God and His people; what a perfect picture with which to better understand eternity.
Kristin and I will have be celebrating our first anniversary this Sunday- how incredible is that?? I've been reflecting so much lately on how awe-inspiring it is that I am loved. Loved at all- in the least! It defies common sense to me, to be totally honest. Me, in all of my imperfections and flaws, my infuriating idiosyncrasies, my oddities and my wrongdoings, am loved, and loved by the coolest girl in the cosmos at that! It's marvelous beyond words that in spite of all of this I am cherished and longed for. And if true for Kristin, how much more so for the One before whom all of these deficiencies are infinitely more glaring? For whom it would be altogether appropriate to sever all bonds with me and leave me to myself, whom I fail time and time again? As Kristin and I, and now Pete and Theresa, are bound by covenantal, unceasing love, so are God and His people; what a perfect picture with which to better understand eternity.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
TANSTaaFL
So we've been back from Camp Chetek for a few weeks now, adjusting to life back home, missing the constant ministry opportunities that camp presented, yet happy to be back with friends and family and our church. I think everything associated with the transition back to Janesville has been smoothed out (FINALLY, in the case of AT&T!), now all that remains is tying up the remaining loose ends associated with me going to school- I'm pursuing a Bachelor's in Biblical Studies with Moody Bible Institute through their distance learning program. It would be a grand understatement to say that I'm pretty psyched about that! I've also begun an internship at Morning Star that promises to be just as awesome. I'm impressed with the philosophy of ministry that the leadership at MSBC have cultivated and personally I think they're all exemplary gentlemen (and no, I'm not saying that in hopes of them reading this and buying me lunch or something (although a free lunch is a free lunch!*)). I'm excited at the prospect of learning firsthand from Pastors Bob, Jeremy, and Jess and everyone on the Leadership Team and being edified through working with all of them.
Remembering to step back and view the Big Picture is helpful in reminding me why I'm working nights at Farm and Barn once more- believe me, I would rather be with Kristin every single night, but circumstances right now are reminding me how thankful I am that we shared almost an entire year where we could be together each evening. The Lord blessed us with that right off the bat in our marriage and meditating upon that helps me as I'm driving down Pontiac, preparing my heart for the business of selling nuts and bolts, circular saws, light bulbs, compression fittings and the like when I know I would prefer to be home with my wife. The door may in fact be opened and the Lord may provide a job opportunity in which my nights with Kristin would be assured, but until such a time I am content with the fact that I have a job at all that helps us as I'm starting school. Wow. Another statement I wouldn't have made about two years ago!
We're at Orchestra and Choir practice right now and having a blast. Sounds like a football game awaits us this afternoon and hopefully a new phone is brewing... so to speak! Have a great weekend all!
*Or, as Robert Heinlein might point out (or rather did, in his novel The Moon is a Harsh Mistress) There Ain't No Such Thing as a Free Lunch!
Remembering to step back and view the Big Picture is helpful in reminding me why I'm working nights at Farm and Barn once more- believe me, I would rather be with Kristin every single night, but circumstances right now are reminding me how thankful I am that we shared almost an entire year where we could be together each evening. The Lord blessed us with that right off the bat in our marriage and meditating upon that helps me as I'm driving down Pontiac, preparing my heart for the business of selling nuts and bolts, circular saws, light bulbs, compression fittings and the like when I know I would prefer to be home with my wife. The door may in fact be opened and the Lord may provide a job opportunity in which my nights with Kristin would be assured, but until such a time I am content with the fact that I have a job at all that helps us as I'm starting school. Wow. Another statement I wouldn't have made about two years ago!
We're at Orchestra and Choir practice right now and having a blast. Sounds like a football game awaits us this afternoon and hopefully a new phone is brewing... so to speak! Have a great weekend all!
*Or, as Robert Heinlein might point out (or rather did, in his novel The Moon is a Harsh Mistress) There Ain't No Such Thing as a Free Lunch!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Momentary Glimpses
All my life I have experienced glimpses of joy- fleeting wisps, frustratingly brief. They were all only tiny morsels that seemed to vanish just as quickly as I had tasted them, for they were incomplete, and only foreshadowings of true Joy. Each one was limited, bound to finite things that age and pass away, and could not fulfill because they had no source outside of themselves.
I never experienced true abiding JOY until I came to Christ. And though this Joy is richer by far than any others I've ever known, it still is incomplete, and still only a foreshadowing (and gloriously so!), because I will not know the ultimate Joy I was created to experience until I am glorified and in the presence of my Lord Jesus Christ. Seek and take hold of that for which we were all created- to glorify God and enjoy Him forever!
I never experienced true abiding JOY until I came to Christ. And though this Joy is richer by far than any others I've ever known, it still is incomplete, and still only a foreshadowing (and gloriously so!), because I will not know the ultimate Joy I was created to experience until I am glorified and in the presence of my Lord Jesus Christ. Seek and take hold of that for which we were all created- to glorify God and enjoy Him forever!
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