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.

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!

...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.

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!

     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...

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!  

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.

     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.

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.

    

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.

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.

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!