Something to think about

This is a little story I wrote to keep my mind sharp and my wits keen.

The Waiting

Aaron stared at the clock; the seconds dragged on. Each second feels like an eternity, he thought, then realized how cliché that sounded. Thank God I didn’t say that out loud. Not that there’s anyone to hear me anyway. Just me, and The Waiting.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Each tick a shotgun blast, each tock a rock through a pane of glass. It would have hurt his ears, had it not all been in his mind. But when you’re alone and there’s nobody else to make noise, even the slightest sound can be the loudest thing in the world.

Of course Aaron would never have noticed the sound of the clock or even be thinking like this if it were not for The Waiting. If not for The Waiting, then he could be off doing something else, anything else but this cursed Waiting.

But Aaron stayed, not feeling very patient, but still Waiting. For he knew that

soon would be The Arrival.

For you see, it is The Arrival that makes The Waiting worthwhile. No matter how tired one gets of waiting for something, if it is something good, something pure, something lovely that you are waiting for, then however long you wait and whatever you endure while you were waiting for that something to arrive is totally worth it.

This is what Aaron reminded himself of, what he was clinging to in order to conquer The Waiting. For whatever sheer misery was found in The Waiting, it would be nothing compared to the pure glorious joy found in The Arrival, and he would know that it had been worth it.

The microwave dinged; the Hot Pocket was done. The Waiting had ended, The Arrival had come.

Forever Young…Or Immature Part 2

This is a further installment of things to do to help you feel young. Please try them out.


#4. Tell long stories that ultimately have no point or jokes that aren’t funny. How many among us of have listened to a small child try to tell a story or a joke? It usually doesn’t go well, and let’s face it: if we laugh it’s because we have no souls and we are laughing at the poor kid’s inability to realize their failure. And we continue to listen because we do not want to crush the child or to inhibit the fledging creative spirit growing inside of them. In telling a pointless story or humorless joke, we embrace the wide eyed naiveté of youth while at the same time giving other adults that precious opportunity to build patience and self control while someone is wasting their time.

#5. Loudly (and poorly) sing songs that were popular when you were school aged in an inappropriate situation. The added enjoyment of this is that most (97%) of the songs that were popular in your youth weren’t that good. So when you walk into a mostly quiet office and start singing ‘I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. I tell you what I want, what I really, really want. I really, really, really, really wanna zigga zigga ah!’, you are irritating on multiple levels.

#6. Dancing anywhere. Little kids dance all the time. Sometimes they’re good; most of the time they are uncoordinated and move like Michelle Tanner on muscle relaxers. Doesn’t matter how well you move, take that move and bust it wide open, anywhere. And I don’t just mean at places where people are already dancing, like at a wedding reception or on the set of High School Musical. I mean ANYWHERE. Here is a list of suggestions to help you in case your imagination is atrophied from disuse:

-Wal-Mart

-Dentist office

-H and R Block

-Emergency room

-Street corners

-Funerals…Wait.

True Love Waits…And Waits, and Waits Some More.

I have a deep seated belief that for many of life’s situations, there is an analogy based on something from The Simpsons. There is an episode where Homer is cast on Itchy and Scratchy as the voice of Poochy, a hip, in-your-face kung fu gangster surfer dog. In Poochy’s first cartoon, Itchy and Scratchy are on their way to a fireworks factory when they have their first meeting, which consists of Poochy rapping about how cool he is. It goes on and on. Finally, Millhouse, practically in tears, screams, ‘When are they going to get to the fireworks factory?!’

And that is how I often feel about marriage and sex.

Now, I’m not writing to discuss what the Bible has to say about sex. I believe that the Bible teaches that sex belongs between a husband and wife, and that’s it.

What I am writing about is how difficult it can be to hold to that. Notice how I didn’t say ‘in this day and age’; I’m pretty sure that maintaining sexual purity has always been a challenge. P.S. Being single does not eliminate the problem; it’s just different and kind of creepier.

But anywho, sex is everywhere these days. It’s on TV, in magazines, and on cereal boxes (I am beginning to suspect that Tony the Tiger is actually a furry). American society, and the west as a whole, give a lot of messages about sexual activity, which often conflict in one way or another, but agree that it’s really up to the individual what to do with your body.

The thing is, it is my choice. And I am choosing to admit that I have a great capacity for foolishness and that God knows better than I do. If God says to do or not do something, He has a reason for saying it. Because He’s God, and He’s smarter than me.

But knowing that you are taking steps in the right direction does not make the journey any easier.

So what is it that keeps me going, or not going, as it were? For one thing, I look at how well it works out for people when they go with their own plans for sex and not God’s. It’s not that God can’t or doesn’t restore us after we’ve sinned, but I’d rather not go through any extra crap.

But there are other issues at hand in this. I don’t think the issue is really ‘Am I ever going to have sex?’ or ‘Am I going to be alone the rest of my life?’ I think the question is ‘Do I trust that God is good and that He knows what I need?’ Do I trust that God loves me and wants to give me what is best, and that that might not be exactly what I think it should be right now? And, ultimately, I have to ask what I value more; do I want God the creator more than His creation?

In the section of Matthew known as the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us not to worry (Matt. 6:25-34). Jesus reminds us that the birds do not work or store up food, but he provides them food and drink. The lilies of the field are beautifully dressed, so we should not worry about clothes. These are the things that the world worries about. We are to put God’s Kingdom first, and the things that we need will be provided.

So when I keep all this in mind, for myself I have to add ‘Therefore do not worry about who you will make out with, or whether or not you will sleep alone for the rest of your life. Do not worry about sex, for sex will worry about itself.’

I don’t know how coherent any of this is, but I think about this a lot. I have to trust that God has created everything with a proper time, place, and context. I am choosing to believe that a deeper and more intimate relationship with God should be of the highest priority. And that if He wants me to be married, it will happen, and if He doesn’t I won’t. Although the idea of God calling me to permanent celibacy does kind of tick me off, to which a friend told me that that’s probably a sign that He hasn’t done that.

Oh well. Time will tell.

Forever Young…Or Immature Part 1

At the time I am writing this, I am 26 years old. And while I am not old by any means, some days I really feel that way, and I’m sure you do, too. So here is a list of fun things to do that will get the blood pumping and make you feel young at heart, even if you can’t feel young anywhere else.

#1. Throw something that one is not normally expected to throw. Desks, books, traffic cones, breakfast burritos, bricks, etc. This tip is also handy if you want to feel more like Batman. When you throw things, you’re not thinking about responsibilities or finding true love, you’re thinking ‘I hope the wrong person didn’t see that’.

#2. Drink a Mountain Dew more than once a year. Nothing says youth like an unnaturally high amount of Yellow 5. I want to be perfectly clear on something: Mellow Yellow does not count. Although they are essentially the same soft drink, Mountain Dew is much more ‘youthful’. Mellow Yellow has not had an alternative flavor in over 5 years, and it is not associated with extreme sports, obnoxious yelling, or barbell style earrings. Further more, Mellow Yellow has a much more soothing name; it’s got ‘mellow’ in the name, for crying out loud. While Mountain Dew sounds unassuming and peaceful, it’s original spokesperson was a cartoon hillbilly moonshiner. So here’s to Mountain Dew, which is low class on so many levels.

#3. Running in a circle and shrieking. Really, come on. Do I have to explain this?

To be continued...

What this is all about (what the title means).

I had something that was on the way to being semi-thoughtful written out and then I pressed the wrong button and totally lost what I was writing. Which is the kind of thing that happens to me a lot. So I will try to be brief and awesome all at the same time, which only has a 78.9% chance of taking place. So before an explanation of the title, some reasons for doing this.
1. I have a lot of odd ideas that I need to write down so I don't forget them.
2. I need a creative outlet that I am actually plugged into.
3. My friend Jackie says I should write a book, and while this isn't a book, it is a start.

So what is A Beautiful Weirdness all about? Notice how it's capitalized here but nowhere else? Capitalizing things just makes me feel cool. Anywho, there a few reasons that I have chosen it as the blog's title.

Although there are a few different things I could say about where this title comes from, I am going to instead tell a story. In the weekend of May 20-22nd, a lot of rather crappy things happened in Minnesota, where I live. I expect that most of the readers who will see this will be friends and accquaintances and therefore already know that, so if you didn't shame on you(?)(I guess.)

It was a bad weekend. On Friday the 20th, in Osakis (a town east of Alexandria, where I live, tsk tsk, shame on you, again), a woman came home for her lunch break and was beaten to death by the man who had broken in to her home to rob it. On Sunday the 22nd there was a tornado in Minneapolis. And more personal for me, my mother went into the hospital after finally admitting to my dad that vomiting blood was a good reason to go to the emergency room.

It was a rough week. The vericose veins that were on my mother's asophagus leaked about 2 quarts of blood into her stomach, the doctors put about 5 units of blood back into her. We took three separated trips to the St. Cloud hospital where she had been transferred, and it really killed my desire to go back there just to look around at Barnes and Noble like I have been known to do in the past.

On the Wednesday of that week I experienced a moment of beautiful weirdness (finally he's getting to the title, the imaginary reader says). St. Cloud now has a White Castle, and my dad and younger brother and I had never eaten at one before. So we went in, and place our order for a lot of tiny hamburgers.

There was an all 70's radio station playing. Just before they called my name to get the food, 'Gotta Fly Now', aka the theme from Rocky started to play. No joke. I kind of imagine myself eating those burgers again, only now I'm in a grey sweatsuit. Immediately after that, they began to play 'I'm On Top of the World' by the Carpenters(?). You know, 'I'm on top of the world, lookin' down down on creation, and the only explanation I can find...' That one.

Songs of triumph and joy played as we ate those tiny, greasy burgers, crinkle fries, and drank their medium pops, which are 32 ounces, booyah. It was like Harold and Kumar, except far less filthy and full of drugs.

Things like that generally don't happen in real life. Movie like things happen to me a lot, but I make them happen. This came out of nowhere, and I believe it was a gift from God. The Bible has so many verses where God tells us that he knows what he need, and that we can trust him to provide for us. I confess that I was not, and am not right now, totally feeling that trusting in God.

God knows our needs, and I think what I needed right then was just to laugh, and experience something out of the ordinary. To have something beautifully weird happen and to have it take me completely by surprise, without my own doing.

That is what I want A Beautiful Weirdness to be about: Sharing the things the things that God has taught me through strange circumstances. Using the way God has wired my brain to bring to His truth in a way you've might not have thought about it before. Saying ridiculous things. Trying not to rip off Jon Acuff to terribley. That is what a beautiful weirdness is all about.