Journeys of a Wandering Wordsmith
Journey with me on my blog!
Not So Wonderfully Made
I don't feel wonderfully made right now. My autoimmune disease makes me feel newly flawed. Like my Designer forgot to quality-check my body before He sent me to the womb, apparently knit with this broken strand.
I Am Not in Control
I have control issues. I have known this about myself for a little while now. Counseling has helped me see it more clearly, though I feel I've known this for many years prior. I don't like being at the mercy of my circumstances. Especially the mercy of another human.
Jesus Year
In 2017, when I was 30, I quit my full-time job at a boarding school to pursue more of Your Other Brothers. It's work, certainly, editing blogs and producing regular streams of podcasts and videos, but it's also a lot of ministry. Responding to emails from new readers. Engaging with supporters at coffee shops. Planning weekly digital gatherings and yearly "real-life" retreats. Am I comparing myself to Jesus, you're asking? Why, of course I am. But shouldn't we all?
40 Days of Ashes
Forty days ago, I sought to burn my psalms for Lent. Writing one in the back of my journal before bed each night, then ripping out the page, entering my closet and closing the door behind me, and setting fire to my words in an old toolbox. It was a different sort of Lenten season this year, for many reasons, and I have three main thoughts.
He is Still For You
May we rest in this comfort: that we are cosmically not alone in our loneliness. The One who forged heaven and earth walked a harrowing road with nowhere to lay His head. He is with us. He is for us. All these centuries later. In times of peace. In times of famine. Even still.
Give Us Tomorrow's Barabbas
Our entire lives we have wanted to be more present. And now that we've been given nothing but buckets upon buckets of the present, we are kicking away the pails and saying, "Give us back our precious longings." The savior we have anticipated through countless yesterdays is finally here in our midst, and we cry for Barabbas.
Thank You for Being Brave
I'm writing this blog from home. And I never blog from home. Like ever. I have no other choice. Nothing is open. No late-night coffee shops and no early-night coffee shops either, for that matter. Coronavirus has violently disrupted every facet of normalcy. Society's. My own. Normal Monday evenings aren't normal Monday evenings anymore. And for God only knows how much longer.
Burn Up Your Psalms
I've participated sporadically in Lent over the last decade. Some years I think nothing of it; others, I've fasted from food or masturbation. I recalled this notion of psalm-writing. Of putting away my Bible and penning my own. As a writer, I feel it hold such an allure; as a human, too. I'd been wanting to connect with my Creator like this for many months. Why hadn't I? What's been holding me back?
Debt-Free
Before I knew it, YOB was no longer a hobby. It could no longer be treated that way – that is, if I wanted it to grow further. And I did. I knew I could pay off my Juke and be debt-free if I simply kept working at the boarding school through 2017 and maybe a little into 2018. Paying off a 4-year loan in a little over a year was absolutely doable. But that inner beckoning grew louder and stronger.
God Cannot Be
I'm certain that even if I hadn't been raised in a Christian home (and Christian school with Christian science textbooks) but had this same personality and outlook of the universe, I'd have sooner than later found my way to a God – if not the same one I follow now. The God who I believe is the one and only: creator of untold galaxies and creator of you and me. And yet there are many who cannot wrap their minds around such a contradictory notion – a massive and personal God.
Broken Belonging
Looking back on the last 16 years, I see that "takes too much effort" excuse as an easy out. Digging deeper, I see something else blocking my pursuit of church membership: my self-worth. Surprise, surprise; it's my single biggest struggle. Am I worthy of church membership? What do I even have to offer the church?
Healthy Rest / Unhealthy Rest
I'm realizing healthy rest bleeds into my productivity. "Healthy productivity" – that's a thing, too. Not just being productive from a sense of duty, distracting-distracting-distracting your heart, but producing from a well-stewarded overflow. Incorporating rest not just after but into my productivity – this is the magic.
Mortality
It's there in my consciousness, a shadow sitting in the corner, unmoving. My mortality. Just . . . there. I will die one day, and this is how it's always been ordained. This is nothing new. Why has it taken me 30+ years to realize this – really realize this? More than ever, I want to make every moment matter. I want to live every day I've been given to live. It's such a crime for anyone to stay settled and never venture out. I cannot bear the thought for myself.
To Bleed Unfettered on the Page
A friend recently recommended we shut our Bibles for a second and pen some psalms of our own. I couldn't stop smiling and feeling convicted over his blunt advice. I want to follow it. So, here's to 2020. A bright and shiny new year with a bright and shiny new journal.
I'll Never Reach a Million People
More than ever, I long for my financial needs to be fully met so I can invest even more into creating: more time, more energy, more projects, more equipment. And thus even more connection. How nice it would be right now to have a million supporters. Or at least a few hundred thousand. Heck, a thousand. But here's the thing I desperately need to keep reminding myself. It's what I'm still learning from the hundreds of blogs, books, podcasts, and videos put out over the last decade. I'll never reach a million people if I don't reach the one.
My Name on a Stone
I traveled to Pennsylvania for Christmas, my first trip there since Ahh died this summer. My grandfather's gravestone wasn't chiseled until just recently, so this was my first time visiting it. Seeing it. It was the first time I'd ever seen my name on a stone.
This Chasm of Calling
On the one hand, I'm thrilled. I've never been more passionate in my calling as a storyteller. And yet on the other hand, the more I discover my God-given passions, talents, and deep gladness, the more burdened grows my soul; the more hungry, my heart. I feel the strain in the disconnect between what I want and what I believe God wants for me and others in this chasm of the not yet.
Ponder Anew
It can be easy for Christians to believe, almost robotically, that God can do anything. That's what makes God God, right? So, what does it mean to "ponder anew" what God can do? How does one ponder anew the already established notion that an all-powerful God can do — does — all-powerful things?
This Hurts
Holidays are sneakily hard on me. I have a good family. A great one, even. I am a blessed guy. And yet the holidays attack me from both sides: reminders of a past drifting further away and a future growing more realized.
Anything Mentionable is Manageable
I saw the new Mr. Rogers movie, "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood." It's unlike any other movie I've seen. A unique story structure, beautiful set design, and phenomenal acting. "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" is a movie that will stick with me for a while. I was teary-eyed the entire way – both from the sheer beauty of this story and its haunting connections to my own.