The Bible In A Year

Today is day 330 of the year 2013; my Bible-In-A-Year plan told me so. All I have left to read are the Minor Prophets, a couple chapters of Proverbs, a rehash of the last 30 Psalms (you read them all twice in this plan), and the last few books of the New Testament. Three hundred and thirty days down, thirty five to go.

I will admit that it has been harder than I thought it would be, for several reasons:

• The experts tell us if we do something regularly, at the same time every day, for a certain number of days in a row it will become a habit. I don’t know why, but reading the Bible just doesn’t seem to want to fit that mold for me. I started off reading every morning, then I switched to every night, and then I swapped back and forth intermittently. It has never become a “habit.” Reading the Bible is/was/has been something that I have to make myself do each and every day. It is not that I don’t want to read it, I just frequently “find” easier or more interesting things to do. At this point, I am realizing that may just be how it was intended to be, something intentional as opposed to a mindless act.
• It can be a very hard book to read. No, I’m not talking about the reading level, I’m talking about the content. 
• Most people complain about books like Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, but I breezed through the Pentateuch without much problem. The books that bogged me down were the major prophets; Isaiah and Ezekiel were the toughest. They are looooonnnnnngggg and tend to get very repetitive. In addition, they really can twist your brain in a lot of different directions with difficult concepts, images, and content. Some of what’s in there is just “hard” to read in an “I want to poke my eyes out” kind of way.
• There are many uncomfortable parts, especially in the Old Testament. It is a book (or many books) filled with stories of murder, rape, incest, violence, genocide, and expectations and/or laws that just seem unjust or oppressive. Those parts are uncomfortable because God is often represented as being the very opposite of the loving, white-bearded, golden-aura-shrouded, grandfatherly, geriatric, passive, forgiving, and almost senile God that so many of us in Western Christendom WANT our God to be.

I’ll be honest, if I hadn’t taken a course in Biblical Interpretation last spring…I might have given up back on day 39 or 40…most certainly by day 52. I would have quit for the same reason(s) that so many others who have tried to read the entire Bible give up; it IS hard, it makes me feel uncomfortable (often in a bad way), it is sometimes boring, and it really challenges me from a faith perspective to KNOW what this foundation my faith is built on is really about. In class I learned that I have to read the Bible through at least three main “lenses”:

1. The world in behind the Bible: the historical context/understanding of the world that preceded the writing of whatever portion I may be reading.
2. The world inside the Bible: the historical context/understanding of the world at the time of the writing of whatever portion I may be reading.
3. The world in front of the Bible: the context/understanding of today.

Focusing on those first two lenses helped me get through some of the parts that were most difficult. They are passages written to/about a people with whom I have little to no historical context. I can study up on them and their time, but I can’t “know” it the way I know my own context today. This doesn’t mean those passage can’t/don’t hold meaning for me, just that I need to try to understand what it meant to them first.

In all this reading, there is one passage that has come up three times and, as such, stands out to me as a guide for “being a better Christian.” I first studied it in class as part of a lesson in exegesis, then Pastor Mark preached on it twice this past month (November 3 and November 10), and I read it yesterday as part of my plan. The passage is from 1 Peter 3:8-18, and I really feel like it sums up the message of what I’ve been reading for the past 330 days, how I really want to live the rest of my life, and how I hope other Christians want to live, too. Allow me to paraphrase (probably poorly):

As Christians we should be:

• Agreeable
• Sympathetic
• Loving
• Compassionate
• Humble

This goes for ALL Christians! There are no exceptions.

There should be no room in our lives for retaliation.
There should be no room in our lives for sharp-tongued sarcasm.
Instead, we should bless others…that’s our job! To bless!
If we can practice living this way we’ll be a blessing and get a blessing!

You want to embrace life? You want to see your day fill up with good? Try doing these things:

• Say nothing evil or hurtful.
• Snub evil and cultivate good.
• Seek peace with every ounce of your energy!

God approves this message!

God listens and responds when we talk to Him, but He also turns his back on those who do evil things!

If you practice living this way, do you really think people will ask you to stop?
Even if people respond to your kindness, goodness, and good living with hatred or persecution, you’ll be better off!
Stop worry about what non-Christians think about you or say about you! 
God will deal with them in his own time, so don’t worry about it or respond negatively or inappropriately!

Just keep your focus on Christ…no matter what!

If people do get curious about your life, or challenge you about the way you are living, make sure you understand your faith so you can respond correctly; however, make sure you respond respectfully!

If people want to mistreat you for doing good things, that’s their problem and God will deal with them. At some point they’ll realize they are in the wrong, even if it’s only at their final judgement. If you respond to their attacks with attacks of your own, your conscience won’t be clear.

If you’re truly suffering because of your faith and good living, if that’s the place where God has put you, just remember that you’re way better off than those who will be punished for ignoring and/or disobeying God.

Christ’s role in all this is definitive! He suffered because of other people’s (including your, my, and our) sins! He was righteous and suffered for our unrighteousness. Remember, Christ went through it all—suffering, death, and resurrection—to bring us closer to God!

Husband

Pardon me, for just a moment, as I'm about to step on your toes.

Husband.

I am one. It is a title I earned through marriage. It is a title I wear proudly. It comes with responsibility I take seriously. It is not just a word to describe my legal standing in a relationship with a woman; it is part of my identity. I am a husband. I long to hear my wife use that word both in public and in our quiet moments together at home. It describes a unique position in life. It carries significant meaning and weight, enough so that many non-heterosexual people are fighting in court to be able to use it.

That being the case, I'd like to politely ask the growing throngs of unmarried, but dating or engaged, young women to stop using it to describe the man you are currently with...especially if you call yourself a Christian.

When you use it, before it has been earned, you do a disservice to the title and more importantly to what it stands for in a truly Christian marriage.

Trust me, I get it.

You bought a house together or you're sharing an apartment. You both drink straight out of the milk container. You eat off each others plates when you go out. You might even share a toothbrush in an emergency. You may even have fur babies together that you call your "children." Sadly, you're  also sharing his bed. Those things don't make him your husband. However, calling him that helps the take the sting out of knowing you're living a life that should be reserved for marriage, doesn't it? It helps you justify your decisions to live against the belief system you were brought up with.

He is your boyfriend or fiancé.

He won't be your husband until you stand before God, family, and friends (or a justice of the peace, your choice) and make a commitment to marriage.

Every time you call the man you are not married to your "hubby" or "husband," you cheapen the word, you water it down, and you remove the responsibility and weight that comes along with it. Using it prematurely means that the "D" word will be all that much easier to use when you have finally gotten married and it doesn't met your Hollywood expectations, especially if you're using it during an on again/off again romance.

For someone like me, who has been through "for better or for worse, in sickness and in health", it makes me believe you don't truly have an understanding of what that word means and what comes with it when it has been earned.

Oh, and tell your fiancé, or boyfriend, that I think he's weak. He allows you to use the word husband and won't ask you stop. After all, he wouldn't want to make you mad, or upset you. He's allowing his genitals to lead the way in your relationship instead of waiting to earn the title that some of us actually respect and cherish. If he was really your husband, he'd respect himself and His God enough to wait for marriage to be called that.

Coffee With Jesus

If you pay any attention to my Facebook timeline, you’ll see me share the Coffee With Jesus comic strips, from Radio Free Babylon, on a pretty regular basis. The author, David Wilke, has published a Coffee With Jesus book, which will be available in paperback on December 1, 2013. However, you can buy it today in several different electronic formats. I bought a copy last night to read on my Kindle app and find myself having to put it down so that I can enjoy it over time rather than just gobbling the whole thing up all at once.

I am a Christian. I’m not ashamed of that; but, I also know I’m not always the best example or role model. I want to be, but my humanity sometimes gets in the way.

So why do I share those comic strips? Because they really do represent the Jesus I know today…the one I wish everyone knew.

I wish this was the Jesus I had known for the first four decades of my life. Regardless of how He may have been presented to me, I spent most of my life thinking I wasn’t good enough, couldn’t be good enough, and felt like there was no way He could love me. The burden of salvation rested on my shoulders and I was failing miserably at achieving Heaven. My spiritual life consisted of a bunch of “do’s” that I wasn’t doing enough, if at all, and a bunch of “do not’s” that I too often found myself doing. My vision of the final judgement was pretty bleak. It was me, standing in front of God, alone, and He was pretty angry about it all.

I’ve got a new perspective today. One that gives me hope.

The Jesus I know today doesn’t say, “you must.” He reaches out and says, “let me.”
The Jesus I know today doesn’t say, “do not.” He reaches out and says, “I have a better plan.”
The Jesus I know today doesn’t waggle His finger at me and shake His head from side to side with that “I told you so” look we all dread. No, He’s the Jesus who jumps up off the porch when He sees me off in the distance, trudging back home in my rags that smell of pig manure and other waste, a lost and hopeless look on my face, desperation in my plea, and He runs, as fast as He can, swooping me up in His arms, a smile on His face, with joy and love and compassion in His voice, giving orders for the preparation of a feast of celebration, all the while shouting, “this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” (Luke 15:11-32)

That’s the Jesus I know today. My vision of the final judgement looks a lot different. I’m still standing there in front of God, but Jesus is standing in front of me. That is all God sees, His blameless son, taking on my sin, advocating for His client, paying the price, absorbing the wrath that was supposed to be for me.

“As a Christian, I wanted to show people a practical savior, one who used humor, sarcasm and gentle ribbing to address their concerns. Through various social media, the comic took off, and I soon felt the need and obligation to portray Jesus as I know him. “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline” (Revelation 3: 19 NASB) is a verse that came to mind whenever I had Jesus speaking a stinging rebuke, but it was time to show that he is, above all, merciful. Does he care about your first-world problems while other believers are being martyred in the third world? Yes, but he might put your problems in perspective for you. He’s going to question your motives, examine your heart and reveal to you some ugly things you might be overlooking, all while loving you.” (Wilke, David (2013-02-19). Coffee with Jesus (Kindle Locations 98-105). InterVarsity Press. Kindle Edition.)

The Gate

Full disclosure dictates that I be open and honest in admitting that I am no craftsman. I'm a guy who barely passed woodshop in 7th grade by burning my name onto a piece of pine and coating it in varnish.

That's not to say I can't swing a hammer. I have been known to build things from time to time in my life. Functional things, mostly: a stand for an aquarium, shelves in my basement and garage, stuff that doesn't have to look pretty…as long as it works.

I'm getting married in a little more than a week. In addition to my beautiful bride-to-be, I'm adding a rambunctious six year old and two dogs to my household. As such, I decided it was time to work on a few projects to get ready for this welcomed invasion.

One of said projects involves building a gate to keep the dogs in the yard when they go out to do their doggy business. I decide to finish this project first--I already started replacing my deck and that's another story in and of itself--since it really is one that needs to be done prior to said dogs arriving on the scene. I also figured it might be the easiest, due to the fact that my yard is already 90% fenced in and the posts for a gate were planted by my late wife about 7 years ago.

While I may not be a craftsman, I do fancy that I'm relatively good at the maths. I needed to build a gate to span the 94.5 inch space between the previously mentioned gate posts. My basic math brain tells me that each half of the gate can be no more than 47.25 inches wide. As such, said brain decides that each half will be cut to 47.125 inches wide, assuring a 1/4 inch gap between the halves to allow space for opening and closing.

I begin the project on Monday morning and head to the lumber yard to get all the supplies I'm going to need. When I get home, I head back to get all the stuff I forgot the first time. After spending almost an hour preparing my work area, I'm ready to begin. It's now time for lunch. After lunch, I get out my trusty miter saw and start sawing away.

By the middle of the day on Tuesday, I have two gate halves measuring 47.125 inches wide by 48 inches tall; they look beautifully functional, really. I attach the hinges and begin the process of attaching the gates to the gate posts. The first half goes on with no problem and I'm ready to put the second half on its post and call it a day. It's 90 degrees out…again…there's not a dry piece of clothing on my body. I'm already on my third 64 oz. container of water. It will be good to get this gate hung, attach the latch, and head inside for a cold shower!

It doesn't fit. No matter what I do, I can't get the second half of the gate in place. I measure both halves…47.125 inches. I measure them again. Then I measure the space between the posts…94.125 inches. What! It occurs to me that I made my first measurement prior to putting the header across the top of the gate. In that process, I had to pull the two gate posts together so that the outside measurement at the top was the same as that at the bottom…d'oh.

I handled the situation as well as any grown man. I got in my car, turned the air-conditioner on high, drove to Cascades Ice Cream and got a small chocolate cone, returned home, and ate the ice cream in my car while weeping quietly.

I finally nut up and decide to fix this problem like a boss. The simplest solution will be to take the aforementioned header off and let the two posts return to their natural positions, thus ensuring that my gate will fit. I remove the lag bolts from one end of the header and notice nothing moved. Oh, yes, I had held the header up with a decking screw when drilling the holes for the lag screws…said screw having been driven deep enough into the board that I can't "find" it with the drill bit. No problem, I'll get an old fashioned screwdriver and have that deck screw out in a jiffy.

Fifteen minutes later, after I finally found a screwdriver, I inserted it into the hole where the screw was hiding and started turning slowly until I felt it catch. Twist, twist, twist…the header pops off the post drops down and lands on my head. I feel blessed to have been born with a thicker than normal skull at this point. I screw the deck screw back in a few turns and head to the other end of the header to take the lag screws out of that end. In a time saving measure, I already had the screwdriver available to remove the deck screw on that end once the lags were out…twist, twist, twist, and down comes the header board on top of my head. I'm feeling a little less blessed at this point.

OK, the header is down and now that other half of the gate should fit just fine…but it doesn't. The whole thing is still too wide. Well, this just won't do. Where is my mallet? I wedge the second half of the gate in and start whacking it into alignment with the first half. Then I finish screwing the hinges into place. Lastly I add the latch!

I have no idea if this gate will ever open. Tomorrow I'm going to try to build a sandbox. The playground set comes next Monday.

Grief and Social Media

I recently finished up a GriefShare class, something I should have probably gone through a while ago and I'm glad that I finally did. It was a good reminder that even as the overwhelming effects of grief ebb, they don't go away, nor should we expect them to. As we were wrapping our sessions up, it occurred to me that the materials had not covered any aspects of grieving in the world of social media.

I guess this shouldn't be a huge surprise. Facebook, Twitter, Google+, WordPress, Blogger, et al are still relatively young. They'll likely have peaked and been replaced by something new before anyone can investigate the effects of social media on the bereaved in full and complete study. It wasn't something I was even consciously aware of until about a year into my own grieving process.

In my own experience, social media is a double-edged sword in regards to grief; a blade of rescue and a blade of pain.

The one blade, rescue, is almost entirely positive, allowing the bereaved to have an outlet for their grief. One of the things GriefShare encourages participants to do is to write a grief letter to family and friends. This gives the bereaved an opportunity to explain how they are feeling while letting their friends and family know how to help them through the process. For many grieving individuals today--those who have lost jobs, family, friends, struggle with infertility, etc.--social media fulfills the role of the grief letter. It can allow a person to express the things they may not be able to share as easily when sitting face to face with those who care about them.

The other blade, pain, I'm not sue whether it's good or bad. In some ways I wonder if involvement in social media prolongs certain aspects of the grieving process or if it helps speed them up. I can attest to the fact that is is often acutely painful to log into Facebook and Instagram. Feeling the stabs of grief with each status update detailing the funny antics of a friend's child, pictures of happy families, silly love notes posted between spouses...but it also shows me that life is, can be, and will be good again. Does seeing other people enjoying the aspects of life which we have lost help or harm?

I'm certainly not saying that social media users need to stop posting all the happy moments in their lives in order to stay connected with their grieving friends without causing them pain. That would be both unfair and ridiculous. Rather, it is up to those who grieve to figure out how to navigate the waters of social media without exacerbating their own grief, especially in a negative way. Someone should write a book about this, just saying. :)

One of those days...

Ever have one of those days...

It started when I was running errands this morning.

The songs on my normal Sirius XM channel of choice just sounded too familiar; so, I flipped the channel to Classic Rewind. Hearing music from my late elementary through high school years referred to as "classics" just didn't sit well. It made me feel old...but not in a proud or wise way. I began to wonder if this was how my dad felt when we would be listening to Oldies 94.1, back when I was a kid; the music from his teens and early 20's being referred to as "golden oldies." He was only in his mid-to-late 30's at the time. I'm 41. It made me think about how I remember his 40th birthday party, I was 14 at the time. If I'm lucky enough to ever have kid(s), they might remember my 60th the same way. Did I mention I was feeling old?

A little while later, I stopped at the credit union drive through to get some cash from the ATM. Whoever used the machine before I did left their receipt dangling from the dispenser...

...seeing a $30.00 withdrawal and the remaining $43.83 got me thinking about two things: 1) there are probably lots of people out there making withdrawals today and seeing balances like this, and 2) it took me back to the early years of my marriage to Sara, when we lived this picture for far too long, and that got me reminiscing, which in turn added a thick blanket of sadness to my already "old" state of mind.

I'll spare you the gray details of all that I've been thinking about today. Some things are best kept private just to keep them special. I also don't want to give people the impression that I'm not happy these days, because I am. I have much to be happy about and much to be thankful for...but that doesn't stop the clouds from rolling in every once in a while.

Remember to take your ATM slip with you the next time you grab some quick cash...you never know what can happen if you leave it behind.

Alarm Clock Anxiety Disorder

Among family and friends, I have jokingly referred to my "alarm clock anxiety disorder" from time to time. This morning I reached a point where it's just not funny anymore. My head hurts, my vision is blurred, and I feel exhausted. Before starting this post, I did an internet search (yes, I Googled it) for "alarm clock anxiety." Low and behold, this seems to be a real issue that affects a lot of people. Unfortunately, it's an umbrella term, covering many different aspects and types of alarm clock anxiety. My experience doesn't really fit into most of what I read about panic disorders and people who wake up and repeatedly check to make sure their alarm is set; so, I doubt the mental health industry is overly concerned for my well-being at this point.

I wake up because I hear my alarm going off. And then, when I am fully awake, realize it's not going off and it's still the middle of the night. I'm not afraid it won't go off or that it isn't set, I just keep thinking I hear it. The key in my situation is that this is clearly tied into stress, specifically work/school related stress. I have noticed that the two go hand-in-hand and are only experienced in combination with one another.

For me, work/school related stress manifests in dreams. I remember when I was working in technology in the K-12 education environment...where I was trying to perform the work of 2, or more, people in a regular work week (after all, "we can't hire people just because we need them"...yes, that's a quote...I actually heard those words.) Most mornings, I woke up feeling like I had already worked an 8 hour shift. I would, quite literally, spend my night dreaming that I was at work, solving problems, responding to help desk tickets, and tackling complex programming issues. On more than one occasion, I woke up in the morning with an answer to a serious problem I had been struggling with at work for several days, or even weeks. As thankful as I was for having found my answer, the stress of sleep was compounding the stress of work...and that's where the alarm clock anxiety disorder comes in. 

I'm not afraid I didn't set my alarm, or that it won't go off, I'm afraid I'm going to sleep through it. It's a phenomenon that has only happened two or three times in the nearly 30 years I've been using an alarm clock to wake up. I know, and I mean I KNOW, that I will wake up when my alarm goes off.  Even if I forget to turn on the ringer on my phone (who doesn't use their phone as their alarm clock these days?) the phone will vibrate and that is enough to wake me up. I WILL hear it (or even feel it if the phone is lying on the bed next to me) and wake up. There's no rational reason for me to think my alarm won't wake me up AND that fear doesn't exist when I'm not stressed out by work/school.

I don't want you to think I'm complaining about school. I mean...I am...but not necessary in that whiny "school sucks" way we're all used to hearing from children. School is hard, especially for a 41 year old internet ravaged brain (see The Shallows); but, it's the kind of hard that is rewarding. I am being challenged socially, theologically, academically, and spiritually AND I'm enjoying that...but it doesn't mean it isn't causing some stress in my life. The light at the end of the tunnel, the end of the semester, is only a little over a week away and it's both a blessing and a curse. I have far too much work to do to get it all done in time, but I know it will get done...somehow...eventually. #stress

I know that in just over two weeks I'll be able to set my alarm and sleep relatively soundly through the night...light at the end of the tunnel. No more dreams about papers, discussion board posts, 40 page chapters on Biblical interpretation, world religions, or the creation and fall of mankind. I might not even set my alarm, not that that will make any difference in how I sleep.

The other aspect of this is that I realize it's not something I have ever taken to the Lord in prayer (aside from the middle of the night plea of "Please, God, let me just sleep through the night!") Much like Paul's thorn in the flesh, this is a stressful and bothersome issue for me and if I'm not taking it to God in prayer, I'm not doing myself any favors. I'll pray about it tonight, and even if I wake up stressed out tomorrow, I will try to "take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong."