Theory of Life

It should be so simple, shouldn’t it?

A Theory of Life, and all that comes with it,

The ups and downs that all creatures, great and small,

Dull and wise, pass through on their way to Glory or Demise.

It’s just a blip in the grand scheme, a flash of the beacon,

Leading ever onward, unattainable but somehow within reach.

And I do reach…I stretch my entire being.

At times.

Because we were made for perfection, right?

Carved in the image of the Unimaginable, the Unattainable.

So my heart screams to be unflawed when being unflawed is expected,

And I sink in…waist, chest, neck…and I scream.

How can a drowning man save anyone?

How can he be the steady surface on which his loved ones can walk,

When he can’t walk himself?

I can hardly move. But I stretch.

And sometimes, yes sometimes, a hand pulls, and I inhale the breath of eternity,

And exhale the need for perfection.

And my heart explodes, open and unguarded.

I don’t need to save anyone, that’s already been accomplished,

It was finished; on a hill on a tree.

But why doesn’t it feel finished? The potential, the driving force pushing to exceed expectations.

To keep climbing and failing, while this Theory of Life presses onward,

What’s the delay? When will it truly be finished?

My tattered heart mortars the stones, quickly now, quickly now,

Before another feeling escapes and goes unnoticed,

Unheard below the noise of other’s feelings that go,

Unnoticed, unheard.

The walls make a hole to weep in the wake,

Of Dashboard Confessional and The Perks of Being a Wallflower,

And a list of painful events that are constantly expected to be repeated.

And then the wall’s repaired and everything’s kosher.

Everything is fine…except my ankles are below the waters.

And so the Theory of Life goes,

Drown, stretch, inhale, exhale, mortar, weep, plug, repeat.

When will it really be finished?

The answer’s in there somewhere. Probably between exhale and mortar,

But I can’t seem to drop the trowel.

Impatient for the fulfillment of a promise made eons ago,

That will make that last inhale eternal.

To Those Who Need To Hear It

The bitter path stretching before you is broken.
You stumble, unable to see beyond the next step, while rain falls on the road you've already walked.
Yet the view through the storm is so clear, so much easier to look back upon.
And what you see brings despair; the mistakes, the failures, the sins you've committed glare back, accusing and calling for attention, and you lose hope in the face of those transgressions.

Yet again, you are a ship at sea; the black tides ebb and flow, rage and shift beneath you.
You take the wheel and the waves confuse the course, losing you in the swirl.
But you are not the navigator.
Stop trying to steer.
Release the wheel and face the horizon.
It's there before you, a narrow shaft of light piercing the fog; a still, small voice whispering through the crashing torrent.
It beckons the winds be silent; it commands the seas to calm.
It says, Come, child, trust me.

You finally hear, but you cannot fathom a hand willing and able to pull you from the pit.
And you say you can't; not after everything you've done.
You look back at the demons and dancers wearing your sins as ornaments while they parade them before you, agreeing with you.
The tears fill your eyes and they pour down your cheeks, etching white lines down your dirty face.
You fall to your knees, your head in your hands, your tears puddling around you, threatening to drown you.
You cry out into the void, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry.

And that small voice says, I know.
A hand touches your shoulder, and when you peer up through your watering eyes, it opens and pleads for you to take hold.
But again you say you can't, and again He says, I know.

Whether by habit or guilt or shame or rote, you look behind once more, and what you see brings a greater rush of tears than ever before.
For the mistakes and the sins and the demons and the dancers have been washed away by a shedding of blood from a perfect lamb.

The hand gently lifts your chin, and you gaze into the eyes of a king who has knelt beside you, come down to where you are.
You try to speak, try to say you can't.
But He moves his finger to your trembling lips, and says,  

I have always been.
I will always be.
I Am now.

I can.
 

Love, As Seen Through the Eyes of an Idiot

I met a girl when I was five years old. I can still remember locking stares with her as our Sunday School teacher introduced me to the rest of the kids. I can still remember how my heart melted when she didn't look away. How the nervousness I felt, being the new kid at church, seemed to fade into nothing as I lost all sense of myself in those bright green eyes.

Somehow, at five years old, I knew that this girl was the one for me. I had no concept of marriage...no understanding of love...in fact, I don't think I truly grasped either until very recently. But that didn't stop me from getting one of her friends to ask her to be my girlfriend. I recall my victorious fist pump very clearly at the news that she had said yes.

And then we switched churches, and I didn't see her anymore. So imagine my excitement when she came walking up the parking lot one Sunday; the butterflies going crazy in my belly when she said hi to me for the first time in who knew how long. Those big beautiful eyes saying so much more.

Somehow, at such a young age, I knew she was my other half. Even so, I spent quite a bit of time denying it. Dating and then breaking up. Seeing other girls. Watching her date other guys. Looking for something else that never had the slightest ability to replace what I had when we were together.

I've always considered myself to be fairly intelligent. But with her, my mind turned to complete mush. You know that children's book, Goodnight, Moon? You know, Goodnight, old woman whispering, Hush. Goodnight, bowl full of mush. Well the contents of that bowl shared a remarkable resemblance with my brain.

December 13, 2013 marked our ten-year anniversary. And it has been quite a journey...to say the least. I have made awful mistakes. A LOT of awful mistakes. But in retrospect, I think they were really all the same mistake...repeated over and over again.

That mistake is this: I grew to think that love was about me instead of it being about her.

Remember that boy I mentioned earlier? The one that got weak in the knees when the little girl with the bright eyes paid attention to him? He may not have been able to explain what he was experiencing, but he knew what love was. He knew that his whole world revolved around that little girl. When they weren't together, he was thinking about her. About what he could do for her when he saw her again. About what he could do to make her smile. To see those gorgeous eyes light up.

Somehow, I lost that along the way. Love became about expectations. Conditions. Feelings. It became about me being happy...usually at her expense. How is it that a five-year-old could understand this while a so-called adult could be utterly clueless? I'm really not sure.

I do know what I've learned, though. I've learned what the apostle Paul meant when he wrote in Ephesians 5:25-27, "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or blemish, but holy and blameless."

Christ gave up everything for the church. That's LOVE. It isn't a feeling that comes and goes. Love is action. Christ didn't say he would die for us, but only if we love him in return and do this, this, this, and this... No, he died for us. Period.

Action. Love is action. And true love requires no response. No expectations. No conditions. It does not hinge on the other person accepting that love. IT JUST IS.

This is what I understand: I do not have the ability to love unconditionally. But I can try. I'm not capable of being a perfect husband. But through Christ, I can be a good one. I can't promise to never be selfish. But I can make it the exception rather than the rule.

I can forgive with open arms because Christ sets that example every time I fall away and come crawling back. I can be humble and ask for forgiveness. I can wipe clean the record of wrongs. I can choose to see my wife the way God sees her. Without stain or blemish, but holy and blameless.

It took me ten years of marriage to understand these things. But once I did, it was like a set of blinders being taken off of a retarded horse. I feel like that five-year-old boy again. And nothing in this world can stop me from doing my best to make those unbelievable green eyes light up every day for the rest of my life.

I Got It At Ross

My birthday was last month, and in accordance with birthday tradition, I received a reasonable amount of gifts. Unfortunately, two of those gifts were articles of clothing that did not fit. So I acquired the receipt for said ill-fitting gifts and journeyed to the place of purchase in order to exchange/return them.

The place of purchase happened to be Ross.

Well, they didn't have my size. As usual. So I waited patiently in line with the expectation that I would return the clothes and use the money I receive to find the articles of clothing at another store.

What follows is a detail of my interaction with the customer service lady (CSL), and subsequently, her store manager (SM):

Me: I'd like to return these. They don't fit.
CSL: Do you have a receipt?
Me: Yep. Here you go.
CSL: I can't find this on the receipt.
Me: (leaning over the counter and pointing) It's right there.
CSL: Oh, okay.

After several minutes...

CSL: Would you like store credit or would you like it to be put back on the card?
Me: I'd like cash, please.
CSL: It was purchased with a credit card, so store policy will only allow me to put a refund back on the card it was purchased with or issue store credit.
Me: I have the items I need to return and I have a receipt. The clothes were a gift for my birthday, so putting it back on the card would essentially be the same as me not receiving a birthday present. I don't want store credit because you don't have my size in the items I am returning. I'd like cash back, please.
CSL: It's not store policy to give cash back for purchases made with a credit card. We could put it on the card and then you can have the person who purchased it give you cash?
Really?
Me: I'd like to speak to a manager.

Meanwhile a line has formed in the exchanges/returns aisle. After another several minutes, the store manager arrives.

SM: It's not store policy to give cash back for purchases made with a credit card. We could put it on the card and then you can have the person who purchased it give you cash?
Again. Really?
Me: No I think I prefer cash.
SM: The computer system isn't set up to refund cash for purchases made with a credit card. (she proceeds to turn her computer screen toward me so that I can see the only options are "store credit" and "refund to card")
Me: I'm sorry but I'm not really interested in how your computer system is set up. I still want cash.
SM: (Sighs loudly) Let me call my district manager to see what he says.

She disappears to the back of the store. The line begins moving again as I step aside and allow the customer service lady to take other customers. Several more minutes pass, and then the store manager returns.

SM: My district manager said I could make an exception this one time as long as you accept our store policy in the future.
Me: Thanks, but I do not accept your store policy now, nor will I in the future.
SM: (Rolls her eyes) Just so you know we are making a one-time exception.
Me: Will you be making that exception using the same computer that you personally claimed could not handle that type of transaction?
SM: (Remains awkwardly silent as she processes the CASH refund on the very computer that was incapable of processing a CASH transaction mere minutes before) Here's your refund, sir. Have a nice day.
Me: Can I have all ones please?
SM: (Sighs loudly and trades the larger bills for Ones) Is there anything else?
Me: No thank you. Have a good one.

Then I used my newly acquired cash money to make it rain all over the counter and the store manager.

Okay, I made that last part up. But the moral of the story is this: Store policy is Bull$#!7.

Answers to Questions That Shouldn't Have Been Asked

I woke up late this morning. Most likely due to the chirping cricket alarm tone I have my phone set to. I distinctly remember the sound being incorporated into my dream. Needless to say, the rest of the morning was a mad scramble to get three kids and myself fed, dressed, and out the door.

After dropping my youngest off at daycare, I shuttled the other two to their elementary school, where I was required to sign them in and furnish them with tardy slips to be presented to their teachers in order for my children to gain entry to their classrooms.

While filling out their tardy slips, I noticed an area marked Reason next to the Time Checked In/Out box. So I think to myself, Why are they asking me this question? Surely, the school doesn't feel it is any of their business why I am checking my kids in at 8:30 instead of dropping them off at 8:00.

Right?

So, to recap:

QUESTION #1:
Reason for checking child in late?

ANSWER GIVEN: 
Late. That's all, just Late.

ANSWERS I CONSIDERED GIVING:
1. None of your *insert expletive* business. 
2. Their ritual morning beatings took longer than usual.
3. I wanted an excuse to see the school secretary again.
4. Fiery car crash.
5. Riley had explosive diarrhea this morning, the smell of which caused Declan to vomit all over the bathroom floor when he went in to brush his teeth, which in turn caused me to vomit uncontrollably while cleaning it up, all while Reagan (who does not attend this school) laughed and threw shoes at me.

Well, this got me thinking about other irrelevant questions I've been asked.

I take my children for their school physicals, and every time the doctor asks the same question.

QUESTION #2:
How many hours of TV does your child watch a day?

ANSWER GIVEN:
As much as I allow them to.

ANSWERS I WOULD LOVE TO GIVE:
1. None of your *insert expletive* business.
2. As many as it takes to keep them occupied while I get some actual work done around the house.
3. They only watch TV until they pass out.

Here's another one doctors love to ask without fail.

QUESTION #3:
Do you smoke?

ANSWER SOMETIMES GIVEN:
Why, do you think that's what caused the fascia tinnitus I incurred while running three miles yesterday?

ANSWER USUALLY GIVEN:
Yes. Is that bad?

Have you ever been pulled over at night (and this only happens at night in my experience) by a balding cop with a ridiculous mustache that appears to drink way too much of his homemade beer? The initial inquiry is always the same.

QUESTION #4:
Where you headed?

ANSWER GIVEN...Every single time, whether or not it's true:
Home

ANSWERS I WANT TO GIVE BUT WOULD DEFINITELY PAY FOR:
1. Your mom's.
2. I'm taking the AK47's I just purchased back to my warehouse to get them prepared for mass distribution.
3. To heaven eventually. Do you know Jesus?
4. 7-11 to get Combos. The pizza flavored ones. I love Combos when I smoke weed.
5. I've been asking myself that same question ever since I escaped from jail.

Just remember to pick your battles carefully...even if you really, really, REALLY want to tell that power-tripping cop you're on your way to visit his mother.

The Spirit Is Strong With This One

The Spirit of God is powerful. But those of us who subscribe to a belief in the God of the Bible already knew that, didn't we?

Paul writes in Romans 8:11...

"And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you."

I find this passage to be simply amazing. What can we not accomplish if such strength--powerful enough to bring the dead to life--dwells within us?

The answer, of course, is nothing.

The problem, unfortunately, is that I forget it more often than I remember.

Recently I was in a pretty bad place. I felt alone, unneeded, unwanted, unimportant...just overall unhappy. I spent a few days...maybe even a few weeks...wallowing in it. Drinking far more beer and smoking far more cigarettes than usual. The majority of my close friends had moved away over the years, and I felt like I had no one to talk to. As I sat on my front porch one night, well past one in the morning, gulping down the last of the beer I had bought that night, coughing from the accumulation of poison in my lungs, I realized two things.

I think the thoughts occurred simultaneously, though I'm not sure its even possible to think two things at the exact same time. But that's what it felt like, and we are talking about the Spirit of God here, so I choose to believe anything is possible.

The two thoughts were:

1. I haven't spoken to God in a very long time.
2. I wish I could talk to...for anonymity's sake, let's just call him Dick...right now.

Let's get something straight. I speak to God on a regular basis. I pray throughout the day, I pray before meals, before bed, etc... What I realized, though, is that I never really talk to God. I ask Him for things, I thank Him for things, but I never actually have a deep conversation with Him. So in the middle of a drunken stupor, I decided to give that a try.

I talked about Dick. I talked about how I missed him, and how I wished I could talk to him. I talked about what was going on in my life. How I felt, how I was handling how I felt, how I felt about how I was handling how I felt.

And then I passed out in bed.

I woke up, took the kids to school, went to work. And something amazing...something powerful happened. During my first cigarette break of the morning, Dick called. Out of the blue. Not only did he call, though, the first words out of his mouth were, "For some reason, I just felt like I needed to call you."

I understand that this may not seem very amazing to some. But it was earth-shaking for me. After pouring my heart out to God the night before, I knew at that moment, as I stood in the segregated smoking area, that He had heard me. And He cared about me. And that my friend cared about me. And I felt His Spirit move within me.

That was a couple months ago. It seems I had forgotten everything. Until a conversation with my wife reminded me.

She said that sometimes, she just needed time to herself. Time away from everyone and everything. For some reason, although I have always known that about her, I never fully grasped the life-and-death importance of it. I don't know what she does in her quiet periods, or what she prays about, or if she prays about anything. But I now know how essential they are. 

Because the Spirit moves in the silence. He awakens my soul when I'm quiet. When I speak without making a sound, He listens. And when I close my eyes and humble myself before Him, He fills me with strength. The same strength that raised Christ from the dead.

If its been a while since you've felt the presence of God within you, I urge you to spend more time alone with Him. If you've never accepted that the God of the Universe could desire an intimate relationship with you, I urge you to reconsider.

Because if He can speak to me...if He can love me...if He can change my life, my attitude...if He can forgive my failures, and stitch together my wounds...if He can extinguish my anger, and still my bursting heart...and if He can make me new, time and time and time again... 

If He can do all these things for a wretched creature that has nothing to offer but a pair of bent knees, bloody hands, and a bowed head...then He can do it for anyone.

From Father to Son

As a boy, my father spent a lot of time introducing me to the things that brought him joy. He insured that I had seen every Monty Python and Mel Brooks movie ever made. Genesis or Journey filled the air nearly every time we got in the car. He painstakingly tried to pass on his love for baseball...which I quit playing, much to his chagrin, after he pegged me with the ball an uncountable number of times. He was a horrible pitcher.

My dad taught me some valuable life lessons...all of which I have tried to apply to my own life...many of which I have failed at miserably.


"Learn to discern"
"Fear nobody, but respect everybody"
"If mama's not happy, nobody's happy"

Just to name a few.

So I spent some time thinking about the things I want to pass on to my own son. Here's what I've come up with so far:

1. Don't linger on the things you can't control...it will only suck the joy out of you. You can only control yourself, and you should always do so in a manner that does not embarrass me or your mother.
2. The greatest superhero ever created, or ever will be created, is Batman. Anyone that tells you differently is not only wrong, they're stupid.
3. I advise you to treat all girls/women respectfully, but ignore them as much as possible. This will, for some reason, make them more attracted to you. The longer you can act uninterested in a girl you are actually interested in, the better your chances of her liking you. And you should never be afraid to knock a girl down a notch or two. Don't be mean, just make fun of them about little things that won't overly offend them. This will make it seem like you don't see them as perfect--that you haven't placed them on a pedestal--and as a result, they will try harder to win your approval.
4. Lesson #3 does not apply to your wife. Once you have won that one special woman over, you need to treat her like she is the queen of your world. Never stop being romantic. Never stop telling her how beautiful she is. Your sex life depends upon it, but it shouldn't be the reason you do it. She can tell the difference between things you do out of love and things you do for sex.
5. It is okay to envision the girls you like wearing Princess Leia's slave outfit. But don't think about it too much. It will only frustrate you.
6. Don't take the people you care about for granted.
7. Things you say in anger can be forgiven much easier than they can be forgotten.
8. Don't air your dirty laundry on social networks.
9. Until you are married, your mother and sisters are the two most valuable females in your life. And when it comes to your sisters, I expect you to be right next to me if and when one of their boyfriends needs to be taught some lessons of their own.
10. Find something that you love to do and make it yours. Own it. If you can make a living doing it, that's great. But if you can't, you still need a hobby.
11. Video games, comic books, and Legos are just as fun as an adult as they are as a child.
12. Fighting strangers is frowned upon in this day and age. So I strongly suggest fighting your friends.
13. Think for yourself! Your friends are probably idiots. Cliffs do exist, and lemmings tend to fall off of them.
14. You don't have ADD. You don't need medication. You are a boy. Do what boys do, and don't apologize for it. If you get suspended for pretending your pencil is a gun, I'll be right there next to you, defending you in every way I can.
15. Don't start smoking. One day, you will, without a doubt, want to quit. And you will struggle with it your entire life.
16. It takes a lot of effort to find a style of Levi's that fits you perfectly. When you find them, remember the number.
17. Life is not fair. Disappointment is inevitable. Whining will get you nowhere. Get over it and move on.
18. The only true contentment you will find in your life is through Jesus Christ. People will fail you. Things will fade away. Only Christ's love endures.