I ain't looking for prayers or pity
I ain't coming 'round searching for a crutch
I just want someone to talk to
And a little of that human touch
Ain't nobody drawing wine from this blood
It's just you and me tonight
Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize
Well it comes with a hard hard price
You can't shut off the risk and the pain
Without losing the love that remains
We're all riders on this train
Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain
But heck a little touchup
And a little paint...
'Human Touch' Bruce Springsteen
_Silence in October_ by Jens Christian Grondahl
_For The Time Being_ by Annie Dillard
_The Bourne Ultimatum_ by Robert Ludlum
And it makes me very very random.
'These are not the shorts I thought I was wearing.'
Forgot to turn the dryer on.
And there's more to come, I'm sure.
Welcome me home, Chattanooga! I love ya.
Here's a secret: the coffee in Belgium is horrendous. Awful. Almost not fit for consumption.
Maybe I'll write something of substance when my soul catches up with my body.
Does anyone else want to be Jason Bourne? A macho spy with a sensitive side.
Will be missing in Europe for the next several days. Brussels, here I come. So tell me now, are you ready for me?
Brand new passport, new rolling carryon bag stuffed like crazy (got to take my tennis shoes to run...as I don't think I'll be able to do any swimming), new but already worn-out Birkenstocks, plenty of film, water bottle, journal.
Put me on the highway and show me the sign.
Two highlights of today: 1. Being W and B's first dinner guest. 2. Seeing A for the first time in WEEKS! She smiled like only a seventeen month old girl can smile.
This stuff is so good I will eat it straight out of the jar.
Currently retailing at:
Greyfriars
Mountain Market
Pruett's on Signal Mountain
'Do you think I'm crazy?
'Noooo...I think you're...daring.'
Ok, I know someone in Belgium is checking this, so I'm guessing it is one of the compadres in Brussels. Will you see if the MTW people have any sort of schedule for me? 'Cause I'm trying to set up a meeting with Vesalius, but have no idea what's going on with my time.
Just call me iPod boy. Which is darn well equipped with Matt Dillon reading _On The Road_. And lots of U2 bootlegs. Oh yeah. Put me on the highway and show me the sign.
Ok. I am back in the market. I am finally p----- off enough to think about moving. Anybody know of a great house up for sale or coming up for sale soon?
Actually, the ideal situation at this point would be a condo where I wouldn't have to do any upkeep or lawn care. I'll consider houses too, but they've got to be in an area of town not scorchingly afflicted by theft.
Will consider Lookout Mountain, Chattanooga, N. Chattanooga, some parts of St. Elmo.
minimum bedrooms: 2
minimum bathrooms: 1, prefer 2
climate control: central heat and air (no wall units or baseboard units accepted)
French
to listen
how to make the perfect omlet
to not make stupid comments to former housemate's ex-girlfriends when I'm trying to be funny
to put the book down when it's time to sleep
to remember to buy peanut butter
ability to figure out what's important when there's a lot of talking
to write the perfect postcard
how to memorize quickly
to not lose my keys every five minutes
living simply
to sleep on airplanes
where the insomnia comes from
LBB, upon waking, to her husband: 'I have to call Mike today.'
Having been a celibate for many years [K. N. is speaking of a nun], she recognizes that only when one knows what it is to be truly in love can celibacy cease to be a personal hang-up, a limitation of one's ability to appreciate other people. Only then does it gain the potential to develop into hospitality, fruitful maturity, the self-giving that listening requires. The woman had just defined holy wickedness for me: it is wishing good for another, even if it entails emotional mayhem. It is wishing good for all, but in a way that takes full advantage of God's sense of humor.
Kathleen Norris, from _Amazing Grace--A Vocabulary of Faith_
Last night M told J to 'say goodnight to Mr. Mike.' He came up the three steps from the living room to the hall/entry, and I picked him up for a hug. Then he laid his head on my shoulder, it was late and he was a tired guy, and I thought, I'm just going to go put you in bed. I walked down the hall, laid him on his bed, and kissed his forehead.
I had to leave him there, get in my car, and drive home. 'Ok, don't cry, be happy that there is a great 3 year old in your life.'
Yeah, I may never have kids. And that's got to be OK. I can't stay in that awful place where I despair, where I find my identity in my circumstances instead of God, where I fail to love God, where I cannot see the work he has for me. I must not be blinded or blindsided by myself, by the happiness or contentment of others, by loneliness, by lust, by things that might seem so important but would prevent me from serving God.
It's one of those nights when I can't sleep and want to take a shower and then get in the car, shirtless and still slightly damp, and drive really fast.
The power was out for about 2 hours. Weird. Not sleeping, lots of stuff to consider and my brain won't shut down. And the fireworks aren't quite finished. I didn't always have difficulty sleeping, or sleeping in. Now sleeping in is a great gift, mostly confined to Saturdays. Yeah, don't ask me why I commited to a 7 am gym time for three out of five workdays this summer. I don't know. But it's good time. Sometimes I don't show up. That's when B, the much-needed lifting partner, calls me later in the day and sings
All the lonely lifters, where do they all come from?
and
I can't lift, if lifting is without you.
I'm fortunate, he has a decent singing voice.
help move S's
_Spiderman 2_? (depends on how I feel after the move)
clean floors
bake muffins
help move W and B (take muffins)
mow lawn
work in garden, plant daylilies and additional impatiens
worship
sleep
rip all new INXS cd's
remove mailbox (got a p.o. box now)
Ok. I have more thoughts than this, but it's late and I'm not too coherent.
Not too long ago I was on the floor crying, saying, praying 'God, you have three options. You can tell me my work is finished and take me home, and that's what I want most. Or you can take away all my desire for intimacy and companionship so that I can function. Or you can just let me go. 'Cause this valley of trouble sure ain't turning into a door of hope.'
But the appropriate response was to sit up, grab one more Kleenex, and say, 'OK, I don't get it, but here I am. God, where do you want me to go and how do you want me to serve you?'
In the end, in the final analysis, in the eyes of God, it is not going to matter whether I was married or not. God's gonna care about how I served him. (When I get to see Jesus, I just want to grab onto him and cry and say, 'I loved you the best I could. I know it's not enough, and I love you for that too.')
Granted, I don't know what that servitude looks like. Somedays I think I'm going to start an evangelical Protestant monastery. I think part of my problem is that there's no good current paradigm for single Christians. And I also think that the church has way lost and forgotten its mission--we don't sacrifice to reach the unsaved. Maybe this is a sacrifice I get to make. I sure don't like it, especially when my housemates show up all happy. As they should be.
Brother, embrace the moment, set your hand to the work that God has given you for today, look at your Lord, not at the ocean of loneliness. Set your hand to the work, love the Lord your God with all of your heart, your soul, and your mind, and see what happens.
I can tell you what happened to me. I got dumped. (I take heaps of responsibility for that ending.) Then I immediately got to go be in the wedding of one of my best friends in the world. I thought that I'd be crying any possible moment in the weekend. I should've been. I didn't. I was able to be present in the moment, happy and solemn, a witness to amazing vows. Standing there, holding my 16 month old niece during 'Butterfly Kisses' at the rehearsal dinner, I should've completely broken down thinking that I'd never have that. But I think God is teaching me that I may never have a perfect, gorgeous wedding. I may never have a rehearsal dinner (or any occasion but my memorial service) that celebrates me, where people talk about what a great friend, son, brother I am. 'But I have something for you to do that is so wild and wonderful you can't even imagine it.'
Part of it comes from knowing that I'm a child of God, that he has wooed me and claimed me and he ain't ever gonna let me go. Part of it comes from growing up. Part of it comes from living in reality.
Brother, live in reality. Seek God. With fasting and prayer if necessary. With other brothers if necessary.
Do not give in to isolation. The enemy wants us to think we're all alone. He wants to divide and conquer. Our Lord calls us to be in relationship with him and with our fellow churchmen and churchwomen, as well as the unbelievers around us.
My house is now empty, the housemates are gone. But I am not isolated. God has blessed me with friends I can call at 3 am. With friends that need me to take them out to dinner. With brothers and sisters in Christ who listen and don't care if I cry one more time and don't turn away when I say, I'm scared that I'm going to need you too much. And you know what? They're all married. Funny, isn't it? But they love me beyond my expectations.
Brother, don't fall. Don't give up, keep pressing on toward God. Walk on. And let our Lord love you beyond your expectations.
For more material, see this entry at karagraphy, and John Piper's foreword to Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood.
