It has been quite an eventful few months.
I could apologize for having not written in a while…but, I’m not sorry.
It has been really nice for the people that are in my life to be the only ones in my life.
Yes, I know, I tweet a lot…but there is only so deep you can really go in 140 characters or less.
Granted, I did love the recognition and title of “blogger” that I once proudly carried.
But I am so much more than just that…I think…but for a while, that was fading into the background for me.
Last summer, I was asked to join a group of men blogging for men.
To push and encourage each other to live mighty lives, the lives we were created to live.
A life “to the King.”
In retrospect, I suppose that went to my head.
I had been discovered, and who knew what that could have eventually led to?
A book deal? Growth in readership of my own blog? The possibilities were endless…and more about my glorification than the God that deserves all the glory.
Though I’m sure he didn’t realize it at the time, a dear friend of mine and I spoke months ago about blogging.
And the topic came up again over coffee this past weekend.
The whole discussion about how so many people blog now as a means to create a type of pseudo-community with people that are well known, well established bloggers.
I’m still not 100% sure if I fell into that category or not.
Since that first discussion, I’d fallen off the blogging wagon altogether for a while.
But like I said, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Here’s the quick and dirty rundown.
In the aftermath of the most devastating storm day in Alabama, I was able to reconnect with family I hadn’t been able to spend much time with. One of the children in particular.
Hit some kind of quarter/midlife crisis and bought a 1999 Camaro. Red. T-tops.
Took a Memorial Day weekend roadtrip with one of my best friends to see a new addition to our circle of friends.
Spent a week in Philadelphia with a hundred awesome teenagers.
Started a new job.
Made it to Nashville to catch up with another great friend and meet someone of great importance to him.
While in town, met up for dinner with a couple of college friends I hadn’t seen in years and got the aforementioned Camaro scuffed up a little. Totally worth it.
And I finally saw a few movies I’d been waiting a while for: Midnight in Paris and HappyThankYouMorePlease.
I’m actually a little surprised Midnight in Paris has been showing in Huntsville.
The closest HappyThankYouMorePlease ever showed was in Chicago. Major culture fail.
And 500 Days of Summer, which I just noticed coming on, so I grabbed it on the DVR.
I’m a media-sensitive guy.
Movies and music affect me in great and powerful ways.
Especially when I see so much of my own story in characters.
Or the indescribable way that a melody can take me back in time.
They aren’t just scenes and choruses.
They are the keys to my memories, and ultimately to my heart.
I can still hear songs from a decade ago that take me back in a heartbeat to the nights when they were most memorable.
So, I see these movies and the same theme shows up without fail.
Life is never what we seem to plan it, or even want it, to be.
It is messy and complicated. And frustrating. And Illogical. And amazing.
Even though, these are all themes in the movies, there is nothing movielike about it.
It’s just the way it is.
In real life.
At least I know my own life has certainly not been what I’d planned.
I figured on working in radio, programming a revolutionary type of crossover Christian station. But the hours were long and the pay was short. I probably wasn’t really good enough to pull something like that off anyway. Not then. Maybe later, who knows.
I fully expected to be married by now, maybe with a kid, and a dog, and a brick house in the suburbs with a white picket fence; but apparently I give off too much of a “brother” vibe, or don’t live in the right city, or I’m not tall enough, or other yet-to-be-explained reasons. Or maybe I just haven’t met the right girl. Or maybe I have and she just isn’t ready yet…
I thought I might be in vocational youth ministry somewhere, but it turned out I wasn’t tough enough to deal with the bureaucratic bullcrap that came with it, so I got my teeth kicked in and left. Seriously, any pastors reading this, please do us all a huge favor. LOVE YOUR STUDENT MINISTERS. Like, really love them. And really encourage them. Their calling is hard enough without all the red tape and obstacles that the traditions, institutions, and set ways that you burden them with. STOP TRYING TO CONFORM TO BE LIKE YOU. They weren’t created to be carbon copies of the way things always were. We are created individually, with individual talents and personalities and passions. As often as that is preached, I’m really surprised more pastors don’t believe it in actual practicality. And I’m still shocked by the number of student ministers, or former student ministers, I talk to that have walked away, or been asked to walk away because of that crap. THIS HAPPENS MUCH TOO OFTEN. If the Church falls in generations to come, it won’t be because of poor student ministers that failed to lead kids beyond the cross to truly follow the Lord; it will be because of poor leadership that failed to let them do so.
And I thought after two years, I’d have been able to let that go.
But then again, maybe you don’t just let go of things that entirely change your worldview.
All things considered, I suppose I’m still on the fence between fate and free will.
It doesn’t really matter, I don’t guess.
Either way, I have no idea what happens next. Tonight. Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Next year. Or if those times will even come around for us all.
That’s why we get up in the mornings.
To find out what happens.
To make things happen.
To live out our own stories.
To partake in the unexpected.
Peace and love.