the lie.

it is tantalizing. it feels right. it makes me smile and laugh. it gives me something to look forward to. it assuages my lonely and sorrowful spirit. it makes me feel just lovely.

it's not worth it.



anything temporary and fleeting, anything that is good for awhile but then is gone, anything that will change and fail and falter in what it does for me is not worthy to be compared to the eternal weight of glory that will fall upon my head and crush me to the ground.



but right now,
i'm not crushed.


and i'm having some trouble believing the trade-off.

the loveable loose cannon

it's the most wonderful thing to be me.


it's the most wonderful thing to be the loose cannon, the failure, the frequent foot-in-mouther, the oddball, the one who is gun-shy and undisciplined, the one who let them down ...

... and still be wanted. still be loved.




there's just nothing like in the world.
thank you, my friends.



"but God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." --romans five:eight--

all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

The new day dawns,
And I am practicing my purpose once again.
It is fresh and it is fruitful if I win but if I lose,
Oooooo  I don’t know.
I will be tired but I will turn and I will go,
Only guessing til I get there then I’ll know,
Oh oh oh I will know.

All the children walking home past the factories
Could see the light that’s shining in my window as I write this song to you.
All the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel the love that radiates
Illuminating what I know is true,
All will be well.
Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself,
All will be well.
You can ask me how but only time will tell.

The winter’s cold,
But the snow still lightly settles on the trees.
And a mess is still a moment I can seize until I know,
That all will be well.
Even though sometimes this is hard to tell,
And the fight is just as frustrating as hell
All will be well.

All the children walking home past the factories,
Could see the light that’s shining in my window as I write this song to you.
All the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel the love that radiates
Illuminating what I know is true
All will be well.
Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself
All will be well.
You can ask me how but only time will tell.

Keep it up and don’t give up
And chase your dreams and you will find
All in time.

All the children walking home past the factories
Could see the light that’s shining in my window as I write this song to you.
All the cars running fast along the interstate
Can feel the love that radiates
Illuminating what I know is true,
All will be well.
Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself,
All will be well.
You can ask me how but only time will tell.

All will be well.
Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself,
All will be well.
You can ask me how but only time will tell.

You can ask me how but only time will tell.

--gabe dixon--

it's really kind of amazing.

apparently i have turned around rather suddenly
and become something of the person i've wanted to be.

it didn't happen in an instant.
it didn't happen because i thought it out strategically.
it didn't happen because i tried really hard.

it actually was
an outpouring
from the overflow.

and now i know:

i can turn around on some unknown future day
and have become more of who i've wanted to be
not because i knew the exactly right way to do it
but because i walked by faith that only He could do it.


[if only these moment weren't so few and far between.]

wake me up when september ends?

september FLEW by ... does anyone else feel like that's true?

i'm excited, though, because i am fantastically head-over-heels in love with the fall. and with the turn of the calendar, the weather has magically rounded the bend into fall, and seemingly over night, too.


transition. people have told me that we have 'transitional phases' in life. what happens when you feel like the previous two years have been one big long unending transitional phase? what if you feel like you don't want to be done transitioning, because you know this isn't your landing place? how can i be a temporarily permanent nomadic resident? see what i mean? gosh, it's hard. and i hate moving.


i have been brought to some incredibly interesting places recently. relationships are changing ... new ones forming, old new ones becoming deeper, formerly intimate ones becoming more distant with time-space and life-space and different habitations. it's bittersweet. make new friends, but keep the old ... one is silver and the other gold. it's hard to abide by the nursery rhyme in real life, though.


like i said yesterday, i'm getting used to louisville ... but i don't love it. yet. i suppose i could, eventually. and i'm definitely trying to keep an open mind about it, because if i expect it to suck, it definitely will. but i think what is hardest is learning how to find my residential identity as a louisvillian without being in college. butler did a great job of acclimating me to indy ... in spite of its bubble-i-ness. but i'm on my own here ... and i'm not surrounded by tons of other people my age who are also new and wanting to explore. and i do so much love to explore with other adventuring companions ... but alone, not so much. so venturing out to discover all the treasures that louisville has to offer has only been happening at a minimum.


here's a thought that has been on my mind since i got a pretend, free, e-harmony account. (yes, i know. i know. i'm not paying for it, so i can't even communicate with anyone .... for now, it's just an .... appetite supressant?) anyway. here's the thought: i am not the christian i used to be. i used to be mostly right-out-of-the-box, but a thinker at the same time. i thought very carefully about which box i came out of, and whether or not my box was missing some ingredients, or even had superfluous ingredients that i wouldn't need to put to use. but nonetheless, i was a cookie-cutter-christian.

now i'm much more loosey-goosey. not that anything goes (geez, how many cliches can i throw into one paragraph??), but i think that i'm realizing that sanctification goes completely outside of the box. i'm a freakin mess, dudes. i'm a walking disaster. and up until this point in my life, i don't think i've ever fully embraced that. what does it mean to know that my effed-up-ness ... and believe me, it's effed up ... is not beyond the saving and sanctifying hand of God? Lord, there IS none like You.

and e-harmony is reminding me of that, because the people i've been matched with would either think that i'm a really sucky christian if they actually met me, or they would think that i'm a crazy calvinist or something. i can't seem to find anyone, anywhere, who transparently embraces their own brokenness while straining for sanctification on a day-to-day basis in every relationship, conversation, thought, job, and moment. well, except for people who aren't christians ... they seem to know they need it more than those of us in the holy huddle do.



it's all a-jumble in my mind. i'm trying to sort it all out. i hope i get there soon.



but it's totally ok if i don't. i can still breathe.

true confessions.

confession: i often start a blog post without knowing exactly what i'm going to say, but rather i start with an overwhelming need to express.

confession: i love music, but i am more passionate about other things. and it shows, especially to people who believe me to be a music guru or something.

confession: i am happy with some things in life right now. but in most things, i could definitely be a whole lot happier. and for some reason, knowing that but not knowing what to do about that has been really hard.

confession: i sometimes experience momentary jealousy of people who are amazing musicians. also, of people my age who are recently married/1st-time-parents, and of people my age who have really cool, creative, successful careers.

confession: i'm getting used to louisville, but i don't really like it.

confession: i don't evangelize in the traditional sense. but i evangelize every single day.

confession: i want my theology to meet my reality in all the places it doesn't currently.

confession: i have no clue what i want to do with my life. i have some ideas, but i could really go in any direction.

confession: i am pathetically undisciplined.

confession: i would really, really, really like to get to a healthy level of in-shape-ness. biggest hindrance -- see above.

confession: i like my new apartment. i don't love it. i wish i did.

confession: sometimes i wish something huge or tragic would happen to me ... just so i could see how i would react.

confession: i secretly sometimes wish that i could be a successful singer/songwriter.

confession: even though i'm only 23.5, i'm starting to feel very, very old and rather unaccomplished.

confession: i don't behave like a 'typical' christian. but i'm certainly not afraid or embarassed to tell people that i am one.

confession: sometimes i miss the college years so much that it hurts.

confession: serving and leading out of brokenness is waaaay harder than serving and leading out of self-sufficiency, but it's also waaaaaaay more rewarding.

confession: i ebb and flow.

confession: i sin, and it doesn't always make me sick. which makes me sick.

confession: i want to do the children's moment at church sometime.

confession: i'm exhausted most of the time.

the time i sunk my uncle's boat.

this was a very interesting labor day weekend. strange, difficult, unexpected, frustrating, stressful, and ultimately, good. because, you see, each circumstance in our lives finds its direction from the Divine Hand.


well ... yes, it's true. i sunk a boat this weekend. not just any boat, mind you. it's my uncle's classic '67 glasspar (little racing boat), recently restored to better-than-original condition, and my dad's huge '85 mercury 115-hp straight-6 motor.

let me preface this story by saying that i'm not a complete boating idiot. i have a more-than-fair handle on what's going on in the water. but this boat is not easy to drive ... it's made difficult by the fact that the boat weighs 300 lbs and the motor weighs 400 lbs. it rides low to begin with ... add 4 girls and some wet towels to the mix, and idling with the motor trimmed all the way out (up) to go through the shallow channel, and we started getting water over the back edge. i tried to trim in (down) and make a run for it so i could run the bilge, but the boat wouldn't even plane -- that's how heavy it already was. so i pulled back (and more water rushed over the back), and a guy came by in a sea doo and offered to tow us to the shallows. i told the girls to jump out, we hooked up to his boat, we got about half way there, and it was the point of no return. i grabbed the box with the cameras and the cell phone, and i bailed. we watched as the boat made its way, vertically eventually, to the bottom of the lake. all that was left was a few colorful noodles and a floatation cushion, which we clipped to the now-useless tow-rope. i swam for shore, another sea doo picked up megan and shannon, and fink floated around swirting water with her hands :)

having made a phone call while the boat was still afloat, my dad and uncle were on their way (looking for a partially-submerged boat, of course). they both zoomed by, my uncle on the sea doo and my dad, later, in the fishing boat, and we had to flag them down. then came the awkward question, "where's the boat?" and the shameful gesture, pointing into the 25-ft-deep water (the lake at the deepest point is about 90 ft, so all things considered, we were lucky). then there was the look of sheer dejection: "oh, no...."

and my head was in my hands.


we relieved our rescuer, a friendly neighbor took megan and shannon home, fink and i loaded into the fishing boat (which ran out of gas before we got home), and (uncle) roger stayed to watch the makeshift bouy (the floatation cushion) and keep other boats (kind of) away. we came back and rotated the 'watching' shift so that roger and dad could make phone calls, and within the hour a diving team came out to lift the boat out. it went under at 4pm, and surfaced with the inflated diving balloons at 7pm. the nose popped out, but the boat was still under, so i towed it slowly with the sea doo to the shallows, where we pulled it by hand (totally filled with water) and started bailing it with buckets. our shoes, clothes, seats, sunscreen, fire extinguisher, paddle, and other stuff starting coming out of the nose, so we threw it all in the fishing boat (my brand-new chacos were rescued!). we bailed for about 35 minutes, until finally we could hook up some power and trim the motor back, and we hooked it up to the sea doo and towed it to the launching site, where roger and dad picked it up and brought it back to the house, taking everything apart immediately (the motor was dried out, cleaned, taken apart and put back together, and it ran like a charm this afternoon! and i would like to note that i re-installed the spark plugs. all six work.). we worked on it more this afternoon, and everything is slowly getting figured out about what will and won't need to be fixed/replaced.



so that's the long story. in short, though, it basically sucked. yeah, the sinking of the boat pretty much parallelled the sinking feeling in my stomach ... NOT a good position to be it. was it totally my fault? maybe not. but i was driving, and there's no escaping that guilt.


but there is something of beauty in being totally indebted to someone ... and that is the opportunity to embrace mercy in a real-life kind of way. no one got mad at me -- not once. no one (openly) blamed me or told me i was an idiot for doing or not doing something. no one asked me to pay the $600 for the divers' bill (Lord knows i don't have it!). and in fact, they told me that i "handled it well," and that i "did exactly what i was supposed to do."

amazingly enough, that's a tough pill for me to swallow. it almost would've felt better if i had more of punishment than a bad sunburn, a sore back, and some hardcore rope burns from pulling the boat up and bailing it out. i would almost feel better if i got lectured and blamed and taken through the third degree to make sure it was my fault (and not a crack in the boat).

somehow, the mercy doesn't feel safe ... it's as if i'm afraid that it will suddenly stop, and i'll have to evetually come to grips with all of the consequences. but that's the beauty of mercy, isn't it? of course there are unavoidable consequences (like being the butt of every joke this weekend). but none of the punishment has fallen on me, and none of it ever will. and the obvious lesson is of an even grander scale -- i have done far more heinous things in my life than sink a boat. and i will do even more. yet because of the Lord's great love for me, and because of my feeble faith in Him, none of the punishment will ever, ever fall on me. what an awe-ful thought. humbling, too.


and that's not all: even more good than that worthwhile lesson came from my sinking of the boat. but it had to get worse before it got better.

i know that this was just about the ultimate in stressful situations. the house was FULL of people, some of them strangers/guests, some of them family. and tensions basically skyrocketed with the news of a sunken boat. well, it didn't take long for the meltdown to occur, and there were too many cooks in the kitchen and too few peacemakers around. there was quite a bit of yelling that was basically unrelated to the situation at hand, and lots of feelings were hurt. there was a lot of bruised pride. and there was a really unfortunate lack of apologies.

so the next morning, the parties involved (my parents and my uncle and aunt) went to breakfast to get it all out.

and the resolution was astounding.


in the words of my dad, "we found out yesterday that we had put our treasure in this boat, instead of with God. we cared too much about this boat, and it became our first priorty."


so while i was learning about accepting mercy, they were learning about rejecting the american version of idolatry. because, after all, houses rot. wealth gets spent. health fails. and boats? well, they sink.




sometimes the Lord uses a whisper, or a brush on the shoulder to reveal a shining morsel of His truth to us. and sometimes ... well, sometimes He sinks our boat.

truth be told, i wouldn't have it any other way.




i think. ;)

very cool.

jars of clay, third day, and switchfoot just built a habitat for humanity house in indianapolis. man, that's something i wish i could've stumbled upon while i was in town ... :) very cool, in any case. stellar group of guys.

merit vs. depravity

i believe it is true that when the nature of christ is formed in me by the power of the holy spirit, i will begin to love other people NOT based on their own merit (or lovablity), but based on the loving nature of God.

yes, i want to be able to love people that way.


but i don't want to BE loved that way. not even by God.



i want someone to love me because of how cool i am, or because they think i'm beautiful, or because i have really good taste in music, or because i rock out on the guitar, or because i am eloqent and thoughtful, or because i am wise, or because i do incredible things for others, or because i'm so original, or because i'm so giving.

(not all of the above statements are necessarily true ... i'm not always eloquent, anyway. the others are all true *wink*)


anyway. i don't want to be some pathetic object of pity love. i don't want only the people who are filled with the compassionate nature of christ to love me only because they are compelled to by the love to christ. i want to be awesome! i want to be cool! i want to be beautiful, and i want to be loved because of it!


i'm still trying to figure out if this is a bad thing, or if it's ok on some level. (hint hint, i'd love your input). but i'm thinking that it's mostly because i am self-centered, prideful, and insecure. in short, depraved. and when i think about how i was created to need jesus like crazy, like not be able to be anything good apart from Him, i think that the extremes that my pride, selfishness, and insecurities take me to are not good places.


and who knows ... maybe when i really start to surrender all my failings (and flailings-about), i'll become beautiful, and awesome, and cool, and wise, and eloquent, and thoughtful, and giving, and talented, and original, and totally, utterly, completely lovable.

and maybe, when i get to that place, i'll also become a better lover of others.


maybe that's how it's supposed to work. the fruit of christ in the midst of my depravity isn't merit, but it is a good work. and as soon as it becomes merit again, i've lost all my depravity, and hence, the work of god in my life.


so bring it on. i don't need no stinkin' merit.
(for the next minute and a half, anyway. after that, we'll see.)

overheard at starbucks

"sir, do you have a flat bottom?"

--anonymous starbucks partner to starbucks whole-bean customer--


best. moment. ever.