The Year I Was Supposed to Grow Up

We only have a few traditions here at A Chicken in a Cage with a Ferrett. (1) Being awesome. (2) Playing Christmas music in December. And (3) Writing a year-end recap of my life. At the end of each year, I like to reflect on some of the major themes and currents in my life, as well as some of the major events. And as 2011 comes to a close, I think that this last year was theoretically one when I was meant to enter adult life. I'll let you decide if I succeeded.

One way in which adulthood crept up on me this year is that all my good friends started getting married. In fact, that's how the year started, when last January 1st, I was the best man for my friend Ryan's wedding in Idaho. And recently, I was the best man again when my friend Charlie was married in Indiana. (Women talk about being "always a bridesmaid, never a bride." I guess I'm always a best man, never a....man?). Through all of this, I did discover how good I look in a tux. It's out of control. I should wear one every day. It's kind of an odd feeling when your best friends all start getting married and becoming domestic and watching the evening news. Adulthood is so domestic. But I do really like visiting friends when they have wives who are willing to give me baked goods.

In May, I donned my goofy cap and blue dress and walked across the stage to receive my college degree. Graduating college is an exciting time, of course, but it's also kind of sad. You gain calligraphic piece of paper but lose a home. I loved my time at Ozark and often wish that I was still there (you can read my ode to my alma mater here.) What's even more depressing, though, is that Ryan once read my a passage from a book on Christian marriage that said that if you graduate Bible college single, your chances of finding a wife decrease drastically. Again, that's why I need to wear a tuxedo around.

May 22nd became one of the more distressing days I have experienced in a long time. I remember browsing facebook and seeing a status update from a friend in Joplin, Missouri saying that he was in Walmart and that it had been locked down because of a tornado warning. Those things happen in the midwest, so I didn't think of it too much. Then I got a call from another friend telling me that the tornado was a bad one, and I began to see news reports showing the chaos that was left in the wake of the twister that ripped through the middle of a city I love. Now, I'm not going to pretend that this event was as impacting for me as it was for those who were there and lost loved ones or houses. But even so, it's a difficult to see a place that you lived for five years torn to bits. So continue to remember and pray for Joplin. The picture below is the satellite image that you can see on googlemaps, and you can see the brown stretch moving from west to east where the tornado went through.

In August, I moved away to a mythical land--Cincinnati, Ohio. This has brought with it a number of different challenges. Paying for rent and utilities. Cooking some and trying not to set my kitchen on fire in the process. It's like I have real responsibilities or something. It's funny. People might spend a long time dreaming about the day when they move out on their own, ready to carve their own path in the world. But it's really not all it's cracked up to be. I miss the days of having other people cook for me and clean up after me. And even though I have all these new responsibilities, I don't really feel like a true adult. It's like I'm playing house or something, and I worry about being "found out"--that someone will discover that I'm just a kid who really has no idea what the crap he's doing.

So maybe adulthood is more than I've imagined it before. Growing up, I looked at my parents and thought, "Man, there must be some point in life when you just 'get it.' When the world makes sense, and you always know the right thing to do, and you have all the answers." But if that's how it works, I'm certainly not there. I think it's more likely that we never really reach the end of our development. We're are people who are just trying to find our way through life, from the time we're born till we die. There is never a moment when someone gives you a certificate and says, "You're an adult now." We grow into it.

At the end of these kinds of posts, I like to write a little something that looks forward to what's going to be happening in the next year. But this year...I really don't know. Right now, it looks like it'll be more of the same...hanging out, going to school, watching Netflix, eating frozen pizzas.

What about you? What have been the highlights of your year? What are you looking forward to in the next?

What God Looks Like

If you're anything like me, then at some point while you were growing up, you thought, "What does God look like?" It's not a bad question to ask. As human beings, our identities are intertwined with our appearance. Other people know us by the way we look. So what about God? What's he look like?

The issue with asking this, though, is that God is not like us. He doesn't exist in a physical body. God is spirit. So any image we create of God's appearance is only our own attempt at making sense of a personal being who is spirit. In the Bible, we find a lot of really cool descriptions of God, but even they aren't really what God looks like. Isaiah sees God on a throne in the temple while angels sing. But it's a vision. It's how God reveals himself to Isaiah in a way that Isaiah's finite mind can get some sort of handle on. 

In Exodus 33, Moses asks to see God's glory. It don't think this request was out of place. After all, Moses had already done a lot of things at God's direction. He went to Egypt and faced off with Pharaoh. He raised his staff while on the banks of the Red Sea and watched as the waters were pushed back. He had been leading a grumpy, discontented nation through the desert. So maybe he just wanted to see God's face as a reassurance that he was on the right track. But God's doesn't really give Moses what he wants. God says that no one can see his face and live, so instead, he puts Moses in a cleft in the rock while his glory passes by, and then allows Moses to see his back.

No one could see God's face.

And through all time, people have tried to put a face on God. I suppose the most common is to think of God as a giant man with a long white beard, wearing a toga, as if he were some sort of cosmic grandfather. Or maybe you think of God as a bright shining light. I don't know how you envision God. There might be a million different ways.

Today is Christmas Eve. And this weekend, we remember how, a couple thousand years ago, people did see God's face. You could look at God. And he looked like a baby in a feeding trough. I imagine he was probably crying because he was hungry or he was cold or because, well, that's just what babies do. 

It seems so....ungodly. Where's the giant white beard? Where's the golden throne? Why isn't he throwing lightning bolts around like javelins? God as a baby. It makes no sense. And that's the wonderful beauty of it. At Christmas, we celebrate how the Creator stepped into his creation to save his creatures. We were floundering in sin and guilt. Jesus entered the picture when "long lay the world in sin and error pining." We couldn't do anything to save ourselves, so God became enfleshed (or incarnate, I guess you could say) to save us. And the God whose face we couldn't handle, who stood so far above and beyond us that our descriptions of him were woefully inadequate, came near in Immanuel. 

Thirty years later, the picture doesn't look much more glorious. Instead of just being a shivering child in a manger, Jesus becomes a beaten, bloody body nailed to a wooden cross. Again, it seems so ungodly. God dies. The one who had legions of angels at his command allowed nails to be driven through his wrists. Why? Because he loves us. Because we had made a mess of things and were unable to pull ourselves back up. 

This Christmas, I hope you remember to take time to worship and thank God for what he has done in Christ. How wonderful that the baby in the manger would become our sin-bearer! That our Lord would serve us! That the one who deserves all of the worship and praise would give himself up for us! And while, for a time it all looked anything but divine, we look forward to the day when Christ returns in a way that seems more fitting. Even now, his eyes are like blazing fire, his feet are like glowing bronze, and his face is shining in brilliance (Rev. 1:12-16). And he'll come back and make our salvation complete. And we'll see him face to face. 

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Enjoy your roast beast.

An (Un)Normal Day

I watched a movie a couple weeks ago called "Life in a Day." It was a pretty interesting concept for a film. National Geographic had regular people throughout the world film the happenings of their day on July 24th, 2010. Then the filmmakers gathered all of the footage and put it together to create a documentary that shows what life was like on that day, from beginning to end. You see all sorts of things in the movie. You see people getting married. You see people riding their bikes around the world. You see people fighting cancer. You see people praying. You see women in third world countries carrying jars of water on their heads.

What I find to be really interesting about Life in a Day is that it is a film that cannot be remade. When you're filming something in a studio, you can re-shoot a scene if you don't like how it turns out. Just shout out, "Cut!" and then roll it again. And when you do this, the different takes look really similar. It's basically the same thing: the same words are spoken, the same camera angles are used, the same facial expressions are made. But with this documentary, that's not how it works, because it shows life as it happens on a specific day, and it's a day that will never be repeated.

Last month, a lot of people made a big hoopla about November 11th, because the date was 11/11/11, and that won't happen again for another hundred years. And that is pretty cool, I guess. Maybe when the clock struck 11:11, you made your ultimate wish. I hope it came true for you, I really do. But the truth is that every single day is a day that will never happen again. Today is the only day it will be December 20th, 2011. Ever. And once today is over, it's gone forever. It can't be recaptured. And all of the events throughout the world that took place today will never occur in the same combination ever again. Every day is a period that is here for a while and then gone.

I feel bad for people who talk to me on a regular basis, because it seems like whenever someone asks me, "So how was your day today?", I answer, "Oh, you know. Just a regular day. Same old, same old." That's how days can feel, I suppose. Especially when you work a job that is pretty repetitive, for all you fellow cashiers or bricklayers. But when you really think about it, there is really no such thing as a "just a regular day," because each day is a little different. No day in your life has been an exact carbon-copy of another day. Each day is filled with new conversations, new thoughts, new experiences, even if they seem like insignificant ones. Each day is entirely new and different.

Not only that, but every day holds the potential of being something remarkable for you. For many people, today was the very first day of their lives. And for many others, today was their last. Today someone got the job promotion he has been working hard to achieve. Today some kid learned to ride a bike. Today some guy got down on a knee and proposed to the love of his life. And today, some other guy totally blew it with the love of his life.

I often have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. For one thing, it's just so dang warm under my blankets! But for another, I can think, "Well, time to start another routine day." And maybe you think the same thing. But honestly, today might be anything but routine. Today could be the best day of your life. It could be the day you hear back about a job that you applied for weeks ago. It could be the day you happen to bump into your old bank teller at Barnes & Noble. It could be the day you discover a new favorite band or watch the greatest movie ever made. It could be the day you meet your best friend. And it could be the day God puts the final period on the story of the world and drops the curtain on the whole thing. Every sunrise sheds light on a new world of possibilities.

And that makes every day a little more exciting, I think.

Symptoms of a Disorganized Life

It's been a while since I've written anything. You might have thought that I finally ran out of things to write about. That may very well be true. But fear not, because even that won't put the brakes on this train. The reason I haven't been writing is that I have been BUSY! Today was my last day of the semester, but that meant that the last few weeks have been full of studying and researching and paper-writing. Plus, I've learned that December can be a pretty busy month for Walmart cashiers, so when I haven't been doing work for school, I've been getting into fisticuffs with crazed holiday shoppers. Unfortunately, the one who has lost in all of this mess is you, O Faithful Reader. Or maybe you consider it winning. In that case, congratulations, and I'm sorry to rain on your parade.

A while back I read a book called Ordering Your Private World, written by Gordon MacDonald. It's a pretty good book, and I would recommend it. In one part of the book, MacDonald is writing about how we can better manage our time, and he provides a list of "symptoms of disorganization." As I said, I have been pretty busy lately, and when I look at this list, I realize that just about every symptom applies to me. So, I thought that I would share them with you. I won't really tell you how to fix any of these situations. If you want to know about that, I guess you'll have to go buy the book. Anyways, here's what MacDonald identifies as symptoms of a disorganized life:

A cluttered living and working area
When life becomes disorganized, it shows up in certain areas of one's environment--a desk, the top of a dresser, etc. MacDonald writes, "In fact almost every horizontal surface in the path of my daily travel becomes littered with papers, memos to which I have not responded, and bits of tasks that are unfinished." As I sit here in the chair in my apartment, I can look around and see the clutter around me. The coffee table in front of me is filled with loose papers, junk mail, and not one, but two empty Chick-fil-A cups. If I look to my left, I see more papers, old receipts, and some empty wrappers from Little Debbie oatmeal cakes. Now, I could get up and clean off these areas. It would take about 28 seconds. But I keep leaving it, saying, "I'll clean up later."

A dirty car
This one might sounds pretty petty, but I think it's accurate. When one is living an organized life, the condition of his car might suffer. It goes unwashed, the backseat becomes filled with drive-thru bags and old church bulletins. You keep driving well past when you should have gotten an oil change, saying that you'll do it next week. I once heard a senior minister at a megachurch say that, whenever his church is considering hiring a new staff member, he wants to first ride in their car so that he can see the condition of the interior, because a messy car implies a messy life.

Diminution of self-esteem
I'll just quote MacDonald here: "I feel the slightest tinge of paranoia, a low-level fear that people are going to discover they are not getting their money's worth out of my labor, that they are going to come to the conclusion that I am not half the man they thought I was." I can relate to this much of the time. I don't alwas feel like I am the person I could be, but maturing and developing just sounds like so much work. That can wait till another day.

Missed appointments and deadlines, and messages that have not be replied to
When life is disorganized, you think you're coasting along alright until you think, "Holy crap! I was supposed to be at so-and-so place to meet with so-and-so person to talk about so-and-so half an hour ago!" Or, you continually fail to respond to emails, voicemails, or facebook pokes. I'm really bad about this, actually. Almost every time I get a message that I need to respond to, I put it off till later, really for no reason.

Investing energies in unproductive tasks
An unorganized person has trouble focusing on priorities. Instead, they spend time doing what's easiest. Instead of studying for a test, it's easier to sync your iPod. Instead of writing a sermon for Sunday, why not doodle on a notepad? Of course, this only leads to further lack of organization, as you get further and further behind what needs to be done because you've used your time on things that aren't really that important.

Feeling poorly about one's work
We all want to churn out quality production. The problem is that many of us have a difficult time feeling like we've done so. For example, I don't think this is my best blog post. Heck, I didn't even come up with the main ideas. A disorganized person recognizes that they haven't turned in their best work. This is related to the previous point. Because you might spend your available time in meaningless distractions, you don't spend the time required to bring quality to what you do.

A lack of intimacy with God
Disorganization doesn't only affect one's work. It can have a negative impact on one's relationship with God. When life is disorganized, it becomes difficult to work in time in Bible study and prayer. You might neglect involvement in church life. After all, how can you give yourself to such things when there is a stack of memos on your desk and a ever-growing to-do list in your mind?

A lowered quality in relationships
The relationship with God isn't the only one that suffers in a disorganized life. In such a state, it's common to spend less time with your spouse, kids, friends, siblings, etc. There's just no time for relationships. But the thing is, relationships require time. They can't grow without it. They stall out, or, even worse, are weakened. Conversations become shallow, and you might become irratible around others because you feel that they are intruding on your busyness and hustle.

Maybe some of those symptoms describe how your life is looking right now. As I said, just about all of them show up in mine. If so, it would be a good idea to deal with the issue--to budget time, create a list of priorities, and stop procrastinating.

Speaking of procrastinating, I have yet to buy any Christmas presents for my family. My family is difficult to buy for, and I'm not sure what to get. So I thought, "Why not get some input from my best friends--the people who read my blog?" So, digital world, what idea do ya got for me?

You Were Right, Dietrich

I feel like I need to offer a disclaimer at the beginning of this post. If I have to do that, I suppose it means I shouldn't write it at all. But I'll keep going. What I want to say, though, is that this post can easily be read as though I'm throwing some sort of pity party. I don't mean to do that here (though I'm not above doing it on other occasions). I do believe, however, that we can learn lessons from the different stages of life, and we can learn from one another, so those experiences are worth sharing.

It's been four months since I moved into an apartment by myself. For the five years before that, I had lived in a dorm on a floor with 20 other guys. And for the 18 years before that, I lived with my family. So having my own place has been a pretty big shift. Whereas I used to sleep ten feet away from a roommate, I now have a whole 500 square feet space to myself. And while I used to sit in my colleges dining hall at a long table filled with my classmates, now I usually by myself at a little table or on the couch. And after a few months of this, here's the conclusion I've reaches: Living by yourself is kind of a drag.

As people, we need one another. It's imperative to have contact with one another, and to have it regularly, not just once a week at church or in class. We don't do so well in life when we try to navigate it solo, and this truth has been more evident to me over the last few months.

There are a lot of reasons that we need others. For one thing, other people keep us mentally sharp. In some ways, this is different from things I have said before on this blog. I have written before about how important it is to read widely because this enhances our thinking and makes us deeper people. We have a lot to learn from those who have gone before us and written down their insights, or from our contemporaries who see things differently than we do, or from twenty-somethings who write blog posts on their couch while watching football and drinking off-brand soda.

But that's not enough. Even if you sit and read all day long, your mind will get dull if it's all done in isolation. We become deeper not just by the ideas and information that we take in, but also through our interactions with each other. Since living by myself, I have done a lot of reading about ministry and theology. But I haven't talked with others about ministry and theology very much--at least not as much as I did when I was in undergrad. And having those conversations was important in my own development. We need challenge each other, to discuss together, and to question each other. This makes us more complete individuals. It makes us more reflective thinkers and more engaging communicators.

Not only that, but as we become duller in isolation from one another, it becomes even harder to meaninfully connect with others. Our ability to relate with others is like a muscle that needs to be worked out or else it atrophies. In Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller writes:

When you live on your own for a long time, however, your personality changes because you go so much into yourself you lose the ability to be social, to understand what is and isn't normal behavior. There is an entire world inside yourself, and if you let yourself, you can get so deep inside it you will forget the way to the surface. Other people keep our souls alive, just like food and water does with our body. (152)

Another reason that we need each other is that a lack of community magnifies life's other problems. All of us deal with situations that we are difficult. I don't know of anyone who never has any worries or stresses. But we are able to deal with such things most effectively when we are living in community with others. For example, there were times in college when I was going through some crap--the stress of classes, uncertainties about my future plans, girls shooting me down. But at the end of the day, I would be sitting in a booth at Taco Bell with my friends, and all of a sudden all of these problems didn't seem so bad. On the other hand, if you're not experiencing that same sense of belonging, then your lousy job seems lousier, your lack of money seems more lacking, and the football player who's dating the girl you like seems even bigger.

I've come to believe that human beings weren't meant to live alone. We're designed to be together. And by that, I don't even just mean to do life together in the sense of being in a small group or meeting a friend for lunch every once in a while, though I do think those things are important. But when I say that we're meant to live together, I mean it in a literal way. I don't think it's good for a person to be the only one in a place of habitation. We are born into families--a natural set of housemates. And for the rest of our lives, it's good to be under a roof together, because that's where the benefits of community can happen on a daily basis. After all, no one wants to grow up to be a lonely cat lady.

In that same chapter of Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller goes on to write:

Jesus does not want us floating through space or sitting in front of our televisions. Jesus wants us interacting, eating together, laughing together, praying together. Loneliness is something that came with the fall.

If loving other people is a bit of heaven then certainly isolation is a bit of hell, and to that degree, here on earth, we decide in which state we would like to live. (173)

What other benefits of communal life are there that I didn't mention? What do we gain from doing life together?