The Banzai Chronicles

Since the sun is rising later, I'm getting more time on clear mornings to sit outside and write before being blinded by it. Would love to learn to use that time well, because I'm just better when I'm regularly taking the time to write.

Spent the evening at Paul & Jenna's yesterday. Kind of a tough choice, since we were also invited to an end-of-summer party with lots of church friends, but A) it's always fun to hang out with Paul & Jenna, and 2) hanging with church folks in larger groups often feels like work to me, especially on Saturday nights (with Sunday morning so soon on its way). It's easy for me to assign the latter feeling to the "grumpy old man" category, but when I really think about it, the picture becomes more clear:

• I'm an introvert, so bigger gatherings always take more from me.
• That kind of thing is also often filled with small talk, another thing that's not a favorite. I need to use as much small-talk energy as I can muster each Sunday morning (I often go over what other people are going to want to talk about—weather, sports, current events, etc.—before work starts, because I find most of it mind-numbingly boring, but it's what others want), so I don't need to be depleting it the night before.
• Sometimes there are games. Yeesh.
• Other than the small talk, what most church people know how to talk with me about is, not surprisingly, work. It's possible some of that would change if I spent more time with them, but a party isn't a good venue for that and has too broad of an audience than can realistically know me well anyway.
• I do like smaller gatherings—having dinner together, etc. When I thought of having dinner with nearly anyone I might chat with at a party, I realized I would probably enjoy that. This was really helpful, as that realization countered my internal accusation that I "just don't like people."

Part of being both limited and semi-public is that I'll need to say no more often than I can say yes, and I'm not abandoning my Christian call to sacrifice for others by passing on some things that just don't fit. Neither do I want it to be all about my "living authentically," because I've seen so many people go completely off the rails in pursuit of that pseudo-psychological goal that it makes me angry just to think about it. There's a difference between boundaries and narcissism, and as in all things, I have Someone to follow who won't lead me astray.

We had a great visit by quiltlady (barlow_girl's mom) this past weekend, affording us the chance to play tourists in our own hometown. Friday we toured Theo Chocolate and rode the Ducks, and Saturday was mostly downtime for me while she and Amy went to the farmer's market, checked out some yard sales and fabric stores, went for high tea at Queen Mary, and attended Susan's baby shower (in the meantime, I checked out the anniversary sale at Comics Dungeon, where I met mercuryeric). Sunday was much more packed for me, starting with work and worship, then a dash to the Chapel of St. Ignatius for Connor & Sara's son's baptism, then back over to Volunteer Park for our annual church picnic. We dropped Amy's mom off at the airport early Monday morning, and I've been getting back into the standard groove since then.

What is a standard groove, anyway? Think I'm trying to figure that out—since (at least) when we decided to move earlier this summer, I've been shuffling things around and often just trying to keep up. Now that our busy season has hopefully passed, I'm hoping to find some better and more sustainable rhythms. For example, it's great to be able to do lots of my work from home, but I haven't yet been settled enough to bring good discipline or focus to the table on a regular basis. Likewise, we'll be restarting weekly meetings of our communitygroup soon, and I don't think either of us have a great grasp of what we want the rest of our weeknights to look like (they've tended to just be stuffed with stuff for the summer). By no means do I want a locked-in routine, just a better sense of what life looks like beyond doing the next urgent thing.

Trying, trying again on having a bit of discipline with my morning, simply setting aside time before anything else for Scripture reading and whatever prayer, journaling, etc. may arise from that. Realized at ManTime that I really need this space in to grow in my relationship with God—which, not coincidentally, affects my relationship with all reality.

We've had great help from friends thus far in our painting adventures at the new house: Jenna, Linda, and the Andersens have all pitched in and made the load lighter, and some treats from velouria73 made it that much yummier. After a long day Saturday, we had our first deck cookout with Brendan & Janet, and later enjoyed fireworks and rootbeer floats from the smaller roof deck. It was a good glimpse into the lives we want to live in the house.

There's so much more to go. It's hard not to be overwhelmed by it, but I know it will get done and we'll be fine. Paul & Jenna are coming over tonight for more painting help (notice a theme?), and we want to set up some kind of schedule in which other friends can pitch in as they like (I had to get a volunteer schedule out for work before I could devote any time to our own version).

Was looking forward to breakfast at Voula's with the Andersens, but just noticed (thanks to linking this entry) that they're closed through Sunday. Bummer.

My friend Kendall has recently adopted a morning routine that includes journalling; hearing about that and its rewards reminds me of how rich that kind of simple discipline has been for me in the past. For years I've struggled with (and against) creating spaces for stillness in my life. Part of me would very much like to stop kicking against the goads, so this morning and this entry are initial steps in that direction.

Likewise, prayer and Scripture reading have been sporadic and/or anemic for me, in part because those disciplines have had their "home" in that space. I'm talking about quiet time, though I'm resistant to the term for all sorts of reasons (many good, many petty). And I don't know which deficiency has given rise to the other, only that they're obviously related. So I'm trying to create the space again, in the spirit of "if you build it, they will come."

Yesterday was full of things I'd rather avoid, to the point of feeling sick to my stomach time and again. From hearing friends rail against the church to having uncomfortable conversations to high-end clothes shopping, I just wanted to withdraw over and over again. When I think about it (from a safe distance), it seems this literal gut reaction may be a great indicator of where I need to be saved.

The need for salvation is ongoing for all people. As a Christian, I'm called to embrace this and to look to my Savior, crying out to Him for whatever I need and walking forward in faith. It's not the kind of life my flesh wants to live, but it's reality and it's the life I need to live because of that. When I struggle like this, I need to remember and be reminded that I am a man who needs to be saved. My wife barlow_girl is a gentle and loving encourager to me in this, and I thank God for her. Sometimes it takes a while for me to catch on to what He's doing (and often I never do), yet He holds me in my weakness, saving me long before I ever realize that I need it. That's always been His way.

I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up
    and have not let my foes rejoice over me.
O LORD my God, I cried to you for help,
    and you have healed me.
O LORD you have brought up my soul from Sheol;
    you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit.

Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints,
    and give thanks to his holy name
For his anger is but for a moment,
    and his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
    but joy comes with the morning.

—Psalm 30:1-5

Beautiful day—taking in some fresh air with a beer on the patio. Too often, I don't stop or slow down enough to get perspective. Even my laziness is too wired and distracted. But now there's a nice breeze blowing, and even the clamor of everyone commuting home is somehow comforting.

(Lots of people running. Why do they do that?)

Feel like I've been acting as my own counselor this week, asking why things get me bent out of shape that seem like they could be taken in stride. A few insights here and there, but most valuable perhaps is the simple discipline of questioning myself. Culturally, we're pretty comfortable questioning everything/one else at all times (often to our detriment and theirs), but we don't call our own responses into question nearly enough. At least I haven't been, resulting in a backlog of wacky knee-jerk crap that immediately gets a Whiskey Tango Foxtrot response when I stop for a moment and consider what I'm thinking, feeling, and doing. Time to get a grip.

The dandelions and I have been at war again this spring. Managing myself is a lot like that. It's never quite finished, but it's worth doing (it's work God's called me to, after all), and there are consequences for just letting things run wild.

So the thing with work (sometimes) is that, when I decide to really dig in to one project or another, it opens into a gaping maw that can eat my whole day/week/month life. It's not really stressful so much as it just manages to fill any and all time I devote to it. The feeling of freefall is disconcerting, but it's mostly just a feeling—really, the project at hand (and everything else) will work out just fine. The good stuff just requires work sometimes, and I shouldn't let that reality throw me.

Enjoyed coffee with Chris today. We've been grabbing coffee together every couple of weeks, and it's rewarding to build a friendship intentionally. There are a few pockets like that in my schedule, and I'd be a lot poorer without them (and the friends behind them).

Trying to pray more by actually making ongoing note when I say I'll pray for someone. The list piles up fast, which tells me a bit about how little I usually do after telling people I'll pray, and how anemic my prayer life is overall. Lent is about discovering things like that, then being encouraged by Christ's grace and power rather than crushed by my own weakness. I'm thankful He is at work.

Used to look forward to no-commitment days, but since those seem to have vanished for the foreseeable future, I'll have to carry over my excitement to one-commitment days like today. And today's event is very much worthwhile—a dinner with church planters interested in the possibility of a West Seattle church. It's refreshing to spend time in fellowship with others engaging the reality that God is on the move. Much better than just another diversion.

Lent is a great time for establishing, evaluating, and changing rhythms. I want to make better use of that.

Woke up early and couldn't settle back into sleep, so opted to just go ahead and get started with the day. Surprised to see snow falling and staying on the ground; very unusual for Seattle on the cusp of March. Beautiful, too.

In a previous entry, I mentioned that my habit of gorging on feeds of information and entertainment from the internet and other media might really be all about glory, and that's worth trying to explain a bit. In a recent sermon from Exodus 14 about God getting glory over Pharaoh at the Red Sea, our pastor spent some time defining glory. If ever a bit of religious language needed some definition, this one did (at least for me). He said that glory is something that has weight (C.S. Lewis spent some time with this) and gravity in our lives. It pulls on us and shapes how we live and act, even when we think we're not in its grip, as the Hebrews continued to be affected by their slavery to the Egyptians even as they ran from them.

Much of the self-inflicted overload I experience from constantly being plugged in to streams of data may well be the weight of the false, destructive glory I let that stuff have in my life. Something tugs on me regardless of my distance from it, and that sounds remarkably like the experience of the Hebrews. In effect, I'm worshipping staying informed, productive, stimulated, and entertained, without regard for what bearing any of that has on the true life God's given me to live.

In the past (when I've thought about it at all), it's seemed a bit petty somehow for God to say, "I will get glory over Pharaoh and all his host." What a small motivation for salvation! But God's glory is salvation—when God has the weight and gravity due Him in our lives, we are pulled into His orbit and away from everything that enslaves us. Indeed, there is no other way to be saved. And I need to be saved.

During Lent, I want to journal every day. Since today is Ash Wednesday and we had our service in the evening, this is as good as it's going to get today. Better than nothing? Who knows…

I'm perpetually trying to jam more content, and more of the wrong kinds of content, into my life than it will hold. With near-constant, low-cost access to an almost limitless amount of information and entertainment, I'm a glutton to the point of overload. It'd be easy to complain about being overloaded, but the truth is, I'm the one doing the overloading, almost all of the time. And mostly, I don't even know it.

DVRs and RSS feeds capture streams of anything in which I could possibly have a remote interest, so I can sift through them later for meaning or distraction. Hyperlinks take me even farther out, offering stimuli to amuse, spur my thinking, or even provoke my feelings (positive and negative). Here's the problem for me: much of that isn't connected to my real life and relationships. I say "for me" because I want to stop short of saying that's how it works for everyone. Whether the tools themselves are flawed is an open question; it's how I'm using them that's causing damage in my life. I don't think I'm alone—I'm just telling my own story.

Of course, I immediately want a system to fix it, but that impulse is suspect. For now I want to sit with the fact that I'm increasingly occupied with stuff that's not really in my life. Thankfully, my actual life and relationships have enough gravity to pull me out. But I don't want to spend life being stimulated or depleted by a bunch of people and stuff that couldn't care less about me. Ultimately, that shows contempt for the life God's given me. It's also self-abusive and potentially harmful to others. Why I do it raises a whole other set of questions, but they don't need to be answered right away (if at all). That's not the work that needs doing right now.

This, and a bunch of other stuff, may really be all about glory. More on that when I have time.

Getting out of my usual comfort zone gives me some new perspective on what we're all like (and I very much include myself in these observations). For many, if not most of us, we simply want what we want. There's sometimes plenty of window dressing, but consideration of others, higher purposes, and any greater good seems largely incidental, coming mostly in relation to what we want. It's rather base and ugly. That's not to diminish beauty, hope, and joy as they play out in the human condition; it's just important to acknowledge this aspect as well, because it would be (and is) uglier by far to live and act in ignorance of it.

Maybe it's the intersection of marketing and consumerism that lays this bare in a new way. Simplistically, it's easy to blame this kind of thing on corporations and such—they're effective scapegoats we can lay our sins upon and push far from us (except when we want them). But my experience doesn't show less of this in art or "independent" interests; they are often at least as self-indulgent, yet willfully deny this. And individually, our interest in others regularly maps closely with what we want—the idea of being a blessing to someone else rarely enters our minds in any way that diverges from what we would otherwise want.

Living past this, if it's to come at all, must come second. Acknowledging it comes first. As a Christian, I believe both the conviction of the sin in my very being and doing as well as the power to live otherwise come from the Holy Spirit. Discipline, no doubt, has an important place, but will never put enough fuel in the tank to go much of anywhere on its own. There are aspects of the human condition from which we need to be saved, and this very much falls in that category.

Welcome, 2009! Yet another year I never thought I'd see, or at least never thought I'd see like this. Pretty used to that by now, though, so it's mostly an afterthought that comes when I'm not quite sure what to do with a new year. An unwritten future doesn't make me different from anyone else; it's just a little off to realize sometimes. No fate but what we make.

Last night we spent the evening with our friends Chris and Molly—they made a fantastic dinner and dessert, and conversation flowed so freely that we didn't even get around to opening the sparkling wine and toasting the new year. We've only been friends a short while (Molly and I have known each other longer), and barlow_girl and I look forward to deepening our friendships with them. It was a great way to ring in the new year.

Tonight we're off to the Eastside for a postponed dinner with the Dodrills (Snowpocalypse nixed our previous date). Since we're have a communitygroup game night tomorrow and are off to San Francisco for Macworld next week, the calendar feels a bit full already this year, though not in a terrible way.

Nothing I'm terribly resolute about for 2009. Hope to read more and in a more disciplined fashion, with Scripture and a long voyage through the Great Books of the Western World comprising the "big rocks." I'd like to do many things better this year, but that will probably look a lot more like baby steps than anything grand. We shall see.

Tried keeping daily logs for my own reference for a few weeks, documenting who I saw, what I did, and so on, but it just ended up being a pain. While I don't like not being able to remember stuff, this cure was more trouble than the disease. If I forget, that's going to have to be OK. Not like I ever looked back at them anyway.

Any pressure I feel to know or remember everything is likely self-imposed. Since I was a kid, one of the only things that ever felt like it set me apart is that I knew stuff. When I rely on that to save me—from disapproval, from feeling inadequate, from not being able to make decisions or fix things—it's an idol. "I don't know" needs to be a much larger part of my vocabulary if I'm to be real, sane, and spend my life doing anything other than answering questions. Sometimes others are going to be uncomfortable with that answer, but I probably think that's a bigger deal for them than it really is. No one is looking to me for salvation, after all, and if they are, they probably need to stop anyway.

Some kind of regular exercise in reflection, however, would be good, keeping my eyes on my life and placing it in perspective. Otherwise, it quickly devolves into a set of appointments and to-dos, and all I want is to be done with them. I need to address questions like these:

• With whom am I spending time? Who is important to me? How am I loving and honoring them?
• What's working well? What's failing or falling short? What factors are contributing to this?
• How am I spending time and money? Does that match my values?
• Where am I avoiding pain/seeking pleasure in ways that undermine God's purposes and my values?
• For what am I grateful? How am I expressing my gratitude?
• Where am I serving? How can I serve better?

I'm already challenged by some of the answers that spring to mind. There's no discipline, system, or magic pill that will make everything work, but getting back to fundamentals and seeking some rhythm seem to be good next steps.

Finally, then, brothers, we ask and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more. For you know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God; that no one transgress and wrong his brother in this matter, because the Lord is an avenger in all these things, as we told you beforehand and solemnly warned you. For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness. Therefore whoever disregards this, disregards not man but God, who gives his Holy Spirit to you.

Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.

—1 Thessalonians 4:1-12

No specific reason to quote this, other than it struck me this morning (I'm behind in my Advent readings) how good it is to have standing orders from God. The desire for a black-and-white world can be a grotesque and damaging idol, but avoiding this idolatry by painting everything in muddied shades of gray is unfaithful to the God who speaks by both Word and story. We who believe do have standing orders, fixed points by which we can set our course (the above are just a few, and by no means the most important). In these, there may indeed be a great deal of gray in the "how" of following Jesus, but the "what" is often spelled out clearly, and the "why" is always rooted in the story the gospel gives us. Part of discerning wisely is in not spending time discerning that which is already clear.

Came in to the office early this morning—no burning agenda, just getting a jump on the day. Because of lame file synching, there were a few Monday things that I couldn't knock out yesterday, so it was nice to get settled in. Coming early also gave me the chance to bump into our property manager and talk through some ongoing (read: for years) repairs.

Had our friends Chris & Molly over for dinner last night. It's amazing how much we find in common when we go even a little beneath the surface. We're looking forward to deepening our friendship with them and thankful they're part of our communitygroup.

Been reading from The Book of Common Prayer Advent readings this year. Good to get some grounding, as my discipline with Scripture has frankly sucked in the latter part of 2008. Discipline for it's own sake has limited value, but discipline to be near to a God who loves me, who promises me hope and a future? That's worth going after, and its value is only increased by the knowledge of how firmly He has me in His grip.

Better is open rebuke
    than hidden love.
Faithful are the wounds of a friend;
    profuse are the kisses of an enemy.

—Proverbs 27:5-6

barlow_girl and I were rebuked yesterday, absolutely rightly. The amount of courage it must have taken our friend to pull us aside and call us out is stunning, the kind that may only (and in this case, almost certainly did) come from hoping and trusting in the gospel. We're so blessed to be loved that way, by Jesus and by His Body working on His behalf.

In addition to correcting our hearts and actions, my response to our friend's loving confrontation makes me question how much I truly trust Jesus. There's no question I'm not trusting him when I acted as I did, and trusting Him enough to have the courage and love our friend showed us is part of the advanced course—it can only come once I've grappled with the fundamentals. My question arises from how difficult it is to simply receive forgiveness and grace, without having any power whatsoever.

It's not that I don't seek forgiveness (though there's no doubt I don't do so nearly often enough). When I do, however, even this comes from a place of power. I'm seeking it, I'm asking for it. And even though this feels—and is—on some level humbling, I still have power. I'm still the initiator in some respect. And when it comes in conversation or dispute, I'm still actively in it—there's usually no surprise. This time? Stone cold busted, dead to rights. That's different. No power there at all. And with every response I felt in my heart or considered in my mind, I had to ask myself, "Am I trying to regain power in this situation?" Coming clean without laying that down isn't really coming clean—we've needed to struggle with that from the other side for the last year and a half or so, but experiencing it from my own heart is very revealing. Honesty about who I am doesn't come easily.

Correcting my thoughts and actions toward others matters, a lot. After receiving our friend's gracious forgiveness, we talked about how to encourage the good and confront the evil with one another, which is terribly important. By God's Holy Spirit at work through His Church, however, we're both beginning to know deeper sin of our hearts as well. The sin that sets me against God's people is just a symptom of the sin of not believing the gospel, not only in regard them but also in regard to myself. Until I can receive forgiveness and grace from a position of absolute powerlessness, I'm not really and fully receiving it at all.

This is humbling, even shaming, but not soul-crushing. There is hope threaded through God's discipline, a hope that recasts the darkness within in the light of His glory. He is at work in His Church, a work He will complete out of His love for His people. That includes me, intimately.

It also helps me understand the necessity and goodness of His Church, which is so easily attacked, dismissed, ignored, and marginalized by Christian and non-Christian alike. This particular act of God's discipline and mercy simply would not have happened outside of His Church. On my own, I'd likely keep myself in a position of power, such that even receiving forgiveness would have left deeper, blacker sin untouched. In a self-selected community of Christians, it'd probably be the same story. If things were up to me, even in a "Christian" way, I could have dodged this merciful, grace-filled bullet.

God can do whatever He wants, whenever He wants, through whomever He wants. I believe that thoroughly—so thoroughly, in fact, that I believe Him when He is clear (and He is) that He wants to do this in and through His Church exclusively. I don't pick my team. God does.

Even if it weren't tradition to give thanks at this time of year, I'd like to think I'd be doing so based on how great this week has been. Some highlights:

• A smallish-but-rich meeting with other Community Group leaders Sunday evening.
  
• Attending Operation Nightwatch's annual Hero to the Homeless luncheon with friends and co-workers on Tuesday.
  
• Going to the traditional pre-Thanksgiving stomach stretching feast at Buca di Beppo with many friends Wednesday evening. We had the Pope's table again; hard to believe this was my fifth feast.
  
• Our first Thanksgiving dinner at our place, with the Denneys and Brian + Carolyn from our last Community Group. The meal was delicious (a joint effort by everyone, including our first roast turkey) and the company warm and comfortable.
  
• Giving barlow_girl her first screening of Red Dawn. The classics still stand up over time ("Wolverines!").
  
• Today we're joining the Andersens for lunch at Gorditos and Taproot Theatre's production of "The Christmas Foundling" (it has Grant Goodeve—come on!).

Hoping to get my head together a bit one of these days; not sure what my deal is. Taken to keeping a daily log of who I've seen, what I've read and watched, etc., simply to establish some record and sense of what in the world I'm doing. Regularly feel like I'm just being bounced between things, like the carnival game with the bear that paces back and forth between gunshots, faster and faster with less and less space. If I can figure out where those shots are coming from, I'm taking them out.

Grace doesn't cost me anything. Responding to grace does.

New tips for my earbuds arrived yesterday. Makes time at Irwin's so much easier.

Time is not on my side these days. Most rational to approach it like money: the only answers to not having enough are to make more or to change where I'm spending it. A few timesucks I need to trim or cut entirely, and that's tough more because of habit than anything else. Some RSS feeds are biting the dust today—that's easy.

Looking forward to dinner tonight at velouria73's—excited to have Michele back in town, and it's good to spend time with a small group in someone's home rather than shouting in a bar or mingling at a party. A little of each is refreshing, of course, but nights like tonight are my favorites.

Just saw Rich and Anna (and Sam, their cat) here—it's nice having a neighborhood spot and chance meetings (rather than just scheduled ones).

I've decided I'd like to be known as "Deacon Blues."

Moved ManTime to Jared's for the fall, which means 1) a tiny bit more Wednesday morning travel, and 2) a little time at Fuel if I get moving early enough. Maybe that will help me write more regularly, as I'm even more distractible at home as elsewhere. Well, I'm equally distractible at the office, too, but I'm paid to be distracted there—at home, I'm just flaky.

barlow_girl and I are both a little sad to be back from our time on Whidbey Island. We stayed at the Woodland Retreat Bed and Breakfast, which was a lovely setting hosted by a wonderful couple, UK expats Peter & Jacquie. We had a good time tooling about the island, with our regular dilemma of not quite knowing what to do with ourselves when we had so much free time and no agenda. Getting plugged back in midweek is always a bit jarring, regardless of how much work and preparation we've done in advance.

Mulling a bunch of stuff on relationship, community, and family, spurred in part from our long weekend time and talks. It'll be helpful and good to tether some of it to specifics—I get lost in the abstract after too long and need to be grounded before I float away. Hopefully I'll make more time to write and sort it out a bit.