sending a false signal

Satan is a jerkface.

We know that he feasts upon our insecurities, built on lies that he would have us believe. Within our own mess, we often miss the damage that Satan has done in the lives of others; we form false conclusions about our relationships based on our own perceived inadequacies without considering that both parties may be under complementary attack.

Here's one for you: I hate talking on the phone, and I equally despise making plans. I'm not sure if anyone else can relate with this, but I grew up with a dad that frowned upon bringing the outside world into our household. Having people over was a rare event -- my school friends were allowed to come inside less than ten times during my childhood, and I was made to feel like I had done something wrong whenever the phone rang for me.

I still recall receiving a call the summer before 8th grade. Having returned from an incredible week of church camp, some female campers of a neighboring school got my number from a male friend that attended their church. My dad picked up the phone and handed it to me with an intrusive glare, continuing to watch me as I held an awkward conversation with a girl that was interested in me.

Once I got wheels, the social dysfunction ceased, but only because my social base in high school and college was large enough to regularly have plans made by others. I conquered some of my phone anxiety due to my job and my first girlfriend, but I still don't like calling people that I don't know well in person.

Anyway, I don't share this to cast a dark shadow on my childhood -- my dad's issues make a lot of sense in light of what I know about him today. I bring this up because three unrelated friends have asked me in the past two months if I had cut them off because of something they had done.

The prime evidence: I hadn't called them.

It hurt because I know that each of these friends legitimately missed me. They view me as one willing to share spiritual truth, and they value my place in their lives. Worse, I knew that had any of them reached out to spend time with me, I would have accepted the invitation and enjoyed myself.

Each of them assumed a social and spiritual inferiority with me. While this is an unfounded deception, it fed the belief that I was choosing not to be friends with them anymore. I got this in college a lot: the kid who so easily makes friends couldn't possibly be waiting for anyone to call, could he? In my case, I was...I am. There wasn't isn't a pecking order in my mind; my best friends were are those that were are committed to transcending my insecurities by calling me first.

Want to know the crazy thing? I love introverted people. My favorite friends are those that have demonstrated their trust in me, offering the pieces of themselves that they don't often share. The most profound statements are made by those that save their words for important things; the greatest love is found through those that serve without receiving public reward.

Guess who's not calling me anytime soon...

It angers me that healthy relationships are cast with doubt because Satan plays our lies against one another. One solution is being open about my insecurities; the other is working through them. Being open will hopefully deliver some light in the short term, but I can't count on loved ones meeting me halfway. If these relationships mean something to me, I must continue to chip away at the root. As painful as it has been for God to bring this to my attention, He would not if He did not desire me to work through it. Clearly, I will need His strength; as sure as anything, I will be the timid 13-year-old when I make the call.

there's a lengthy post in my head...

However, I'm experiencing a Sabbath of sorts and don't feel like disturbing it. Who knew Antiques Roadshow would highlight my Saturday night? This might be the point of no return...

mahna mahna

Byron had to use a Fandango credit before it expired tomorrow; since he was traveling with family, he sent the code to me. I rarely go to the theater anymore, but I figured there was no harm in entertaining myself on a holiday weekend, particularly since it was free. I bought a ticket for The Muppets and decided to go solo.

Having been a childhood fan, Jason Segel approached Disney for the opportunity to write a new Muppets script. The result is an unashamed homage to Gen X culture (references are made to Tab, dial-up internet, Molly Ringwald, and Nirvana), skillfully woven through the traditional Muppet plot device: throw together a show to save the day.

Segel and Amy Adams (our best modern day Julie Andrews) do a fine job of keeping the movie light and child friendly. Unlike other "family" PGs of this era, The Muppets doesn't backdoor crudeness to interest the adult. If anything, the sentimental nature of the film sends Gen Xers to a more innocent time when sex, alcohol, and vulgarity weren't required to make us laugh. In one scene, the movie takes a shot at what the networks pitch as entertainment today.

I find this intriguing. Segel casts other buddies that grew up with the Muppets (Jack Black, NPH, Zach Galifianakis, etc.) -- all of them are comical without the overdone schtick. The critics have praised the movie thus far, which has me wondering: if a script like this can be written, why do we settle for a tasteless diet of entertainment?

We're not going to change a culture through boycotting; I'm not one to suggest anything for political reasons. Rather, I think believers should choose to separate themselves from adult comedy because it is of poor taste, and our comical appetites reflect what we've been digesting. Drawing a specific line is tough, but I'm tired of promoting movies for my friends with the accpeted asterisk: "You know, except there's one part in the movie where they [have sex, get wasted, go on a profanity rant]. Watch out for that."

I'm pleased to promote The Muppets without an asterisk, and I'm sorry that this is an exception.

stars among the black

As a night owl disciplining myself for the day, I was pleasantly surprised that the majority of the Black Friday shopping began at 12am this year. Is this commercialism at its worst? Yes. However, I was able to justify my midnight meandering...you know, since I would have been up anyway.

True story: when I was in college, I used to attend the early morning madness for no better reason than to "people watch." I'd find three or four CDs that were knocked under ten dollars, then wait in line for hours to save mere pennies. This ceased to do anything for me during my mid-twenties; during my barista years, I spent Black Friday in a methodical trance: grind, tamp, pull, steam, pour, "Thank you," rinse, grind, tamp, pull, steam, pour, "Thank you," rinse, grind, tamp...

[With the exception of the occasional, "Awwww...he made a leaf in my coffee!"]

Last evening was the first time in roughly ten years that I joined the chaos. I needed new jeans more than anything -- since I still refuse to pay more than $20 for a pair, I waited an hour at Old Navy to buy the only three existing pairs of straight-legged 32-30s and grabbed two pairs of cords while in line. All were half price, and as I already stated: I would have been up anyway!

As the weather gets chilly in Northern Indiana, the sky typically transitions into a perpetual state of overcast on account of the lake. These past two evenings have been uncharacteristically clear, with vibrant stars hanging over our world in magnificent display. Ursa Major points its way towards the North Star to my east; I peer right and see the brilliance of the planet Jupiter.

Over 1300 Earths would be required to fill the volume of Jupiter -- it's surface area is over 120 times the size of our terrain. It is the brightest star of the evening, but from this distance I can easily pinch its area between my thumb and index finger. Even with its might, Jupiter pales in comparison to the reach of God's full creation.

Because everyone in my circle has been talking about faith, I am reminded of the blessing the Lord bestowed on Abraham. After Abraham willingly places his son Isaac on the altar, the angel of the Lord tells him:

"I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me." (Genesis 22:16-18)

Bear in mind, Abraham's faith was not contingent on knowing that this was the payoff. His only hope and reassurance was in a single piece of truth: the same God who has created this vast universe will provide the sacrifice. I consider the desires that He has placed on my heart, and they feel so far away. When I acknowledge that there's only one wonderful thing on earth that I lack, it pains me to place it on the altar. God doesn't ask for my money, my career, my location, or my social interests. He knows that these are His. God is jealous for my intimacy because it is the only human thing I value.

Do I trust that the creator of Jupiter, the Big Dipper, and the North Star has provided the sacrifice with my intimacy on the altar? Do I believe that the piece of my heart I've held back for a woman would be honored in His hands instead? Provision has been such a tricky animal; He's offered me just enough to remain in Him, little enough that I continually yearn for heaven. This is indicative of His grace. But I can't help but wonder: if I trusted Him to provide for every need, wouldn't I give Him the last of me?

two realms

God created many things. He created the heavens and the earth. Angels are as much His creation as a tree or a turtle. Nothing was before Him, and nothing exists outside of His hand, whether physical or spiritual. Large, small, holy, or common: all of creation was effortlessly designed by His good will.

However, mankind is the only creation designed to interact and reside in the physical and spiritual realms. We have been given the faculties to reason through our five senses as well as discern and know spiritual things. The majority of us will choose to ignore or deny the latter. Those that do not will see a world vastly different.

I tell people all the time that there are some things you cannot un-experience. Having shared a room with a demon-possessed man and having seen the power and authority our Lord holds over this has changed me. I can no longer miss the enemy's tactics nor look past the spiritual death of the unbelieving world. When the reality of the spiritual realm is known, we are given the choice to engage or cower in fear. To those that resist its existence, the enemy is best served to maintain their ignorance.

Were you to travel to remote South America or Western Africa, you would struggle to find those that deny the spiritual realm. Witchcraft and idolatry is a daily part of life, and the people cannot question the existence of a spiritual realm. To them, the question is not if, but which one. Which lord demonstrates greater power than another? What is the personal benefit of worshiping that power? How do you not fear such a thing?

People from these countries do not want to be convinced of an Almighty God; they have been ruled by many others that manifested great power. They want to know whether your God holds ultimate authority over any principality that would oppress. Only then can He change their lives.

Consider that most American believers have never encountered their God in this way. We are told we have an enemy in scripture, but he too is a distant idea. All the while, the world is dying. Our ignorance or resistance is at the expense of enemy domain and acquisition; he builds strongholds while we interact with the physical like nothing is amiss. We do not see the lies that bind the world around us, yet we wonder what keeps mankind from accepting our God with open arms. We fight our battles in courtrooms while the enemy claims spiritual space. We gather for coffee and donuts while the dead reside outside our walls.

Without an enemy, we have no urgency. If salvation can be found through a good presentation, this is much easier than freeing the captive from a life of spiritual bondage. If the Christian life is good deeds, this is much cleaner than pleading the blood of Christ over the chained. We can walk away and feel good about our purpose; physically, this is perfectly suitable. But for those that cannot un-see the enemy's diligent hate, it's due time to fight the battle in your own backyard. Trust me, it's just beneath the surface.

but a vessel

A symbolic testimony I assumed, presumed to be the man that showed you otherwise. When she and I locked arms, it would demonstrate to the rest that He was redeeming: none considered lost, broken, or impure. Alas, I aged, awaiting the unknown restoration; I traded my pleasure for an unseen hope. No longer a symbol -- no longer qualified. She sustains the privilege of youth while I father her alone: not a lover or romancer, but a guardian of her innocence. And I wonder, for whom am I her keeper? What man bears the blessing of my tears and scars? Who will take her away once I have lifted her and eradicated my use? I shouldn't covet at this stage; one glimpse in the mirror tells a truer story. A million daughters without an ally: my heart cries for justice and rests here alone.

"ahhhh..." said the bachelor

Tis the satisfaction of a frozen pizza after two hours of raking leaves.