overproportioNATE

I wrote my first detention slip today. I was also paid to watch the princess bride. I never had detention, even once. I remember being terrified of the idea, maybe even more afraid of my mother, when she found out. But, there lies the difference in an upbringing where doing what is right is valued. School is important, education is important. You should always try to learn, try to grow. These things should be impressed upon our children. Amazing at the other priorities. And it is even a struggle for me sometimes, to try to convey to young people the necessity of learning at this stage of life. I like to believe that I can pursuade well enough, that I have lived through enough to at least know the facts. Everyone should have the knowledge that there's a reason why its a law that you must go to school. Because if there were no such law, there would be a great many who wouldn't go. Who would spend their time playing video games, and other activities. Because they can't

Its surreal you know, walking around this high school. I used to be so timid, so just afraid of any false move, any stupid answer, and really, of most people. So I know, whatever my calling, or future, or whatever I'd like to call it, I'm glad I'm here for at least the right now. Its not like I run the school. But I am, dare I say, "liked". I'm cool with that. Its some kind of equality that I've been given. Its good to have it while still here on solid ground. Some dreams are deferred, you know. I still want to see some things. I want people to understand that we mostly all know what is right and wrong, its the actual "wanting to do right" that we all need to work on. Knowing right isn't anything special, it isn't above average to even want to do good. Thats pretty universal, but its in the actual doing. Thats when you know that you're convicted. I want to see good things for my family and friends. I want to more know more abo

I have always been the one to play it safe. To make sure no one gets hurt. To be the mediator. To sit on fences, for years. Indecisive even, in my cautionary attitude. I think its too safe. And too comfortable. I want to try preparing for camp differently, preparing for weekly messages differently. I want to try being a husband differently, and a friend. I'd tell you how, but that would only be more of me trying to prepare, trying to be safe, being sure everything is in order and makes sense. Growing up requires more than that.

Sally spells success M-O-N-E-Y. If she steps on some toes, it's an eye for an eye. She's climbing up the ladder, she's building up a wall, to block out the world or the fear that she'll fall. Tightrope thins, conviction never stops. Money means nothing from a 40 foot drop. her security blanket has worn itself thin, she's hanging in the closet from a rope of her own sin. -Left, FIF Yeah, a little dark for Five Iron right? I like that. Five Iron, if they are nothing else, you know, talented, good sounding, excellent dancers. They are honest. We all have our strivings, our things that, for us, are life. We view life from this invincible perspective, holding captive our hopes and fears, in the hopes that the status quo will remain the same. We can tolerate the pain right now, so as long as we don't experience any more loss we will be alright. But the status quo changes. We find ourselves standing next to the deathbeds of loved ones. We find ourselves looking

$1,000 if you don't go to church today. I know, its a pretty ridiculous little hypothetical situation. And missing one day of church will not ruin you. But. What would you do? There's a lot you can do with $1,000. And before you start telling me about how you could use that money for good, or donate it to an orphanage, or give to to ministry or some missions project. Nope. $1,000 in your pocket, for you. Period. What would you do? As much as we'd like to answer that question, or throw that question away because it is so ridiculous, and it is just one day of church. We make choice like that all the time. Maybe it isn't choosing between money and church, its choosing between our personal time and helping somebody else out. You could substitute money with a lot of stuff. Security. A date. Your pride. Your stuff. What you want. And you can substitute church for helping out a friend. Talking to someone who needs help. Bible. Prayer. Time with family. Its no l

What are you passionate about? I am afraid of the person that cannot answer that question. That may be one of the easiest questions to ask to get into someone's thought process. It presses us on our most human needs and hopes. It needn't be some elaborate answer, some deep thought that cuts through marrow to the bone, but it should have an answer. People. Books. Stories. Writing. Movies. Music. The natural world. Science. Family. Friends. They can be pursuits, and good ones at that. I was reading a section of "Pure Scum" again last night, a book written by Mike Sares, the pastor of Scum of the Earth Church. There is a portion of a poem that was written for a Christmas Eve service, about a boy striving to carve into his piece of paper (where a poem was supposed to go for an English class). He had very low self-esteem, and after time of struggling and scratching,. drawing zigs and zags into the evenly spaced-lines, he scribbled out: "I... am not.. a bad perso

There is an age of indifference. When you're young, there is an invincibility, and a hope that resources will come along to help you change the world. There is a frustration with those older than you, an anger at their inability to change things for the better. They should tax those people, leave those people alone. Why haven't you done more to find solutions to diseases and lack of drinking water? How on earth is there racism after what happened in WWII? Why is there hate against homosexuals? Who on earth gave you a stone to throw? I thought love the sinner hate the sin was supposed to be our motto. And we see a infrastructure that has crumbled from lack of care. A social security that won't be there. A world that is increasingly eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, which does not/will never work. There is moral decay, and so many single parent families it scares me. Young people have heard stories about God, but have few reasons of their own to follow a God that is much

"This house is haunted by the ghost of Adam Smith, The Wealth of Nations and the further death of innocence. To rule the world, the desire of every man, The earth is shaking, There are giants in the land. See the blood red sun is rising, On the broken carnage from the darkest days. Giants locked together arm and arm, Pushing all the meek out of the way." -Giants, by FIF There aren't many ways for us to remain here. We can live our lives, own incredible things, homes and sweet cars, and boats, and monkeys. For goodness sake monkeys. But someday all of those memories, even the best stories, are going to be forgotten. There are only a few ways to put some of these things into cement. To keep them going. One way is to crush everybody. Rather than extinguishing your flame in the basement, you go out in a blaze of glory. It is the most horrible way to make a name for yourself. It isn't a whole lot different from "pushing all the meek out of the way". Bel

There are trying times in life. And its weird, because I feel like everything has been going well. I feel that I am more prepared than maybe I've ever been. I feel like I'm growing to the point where I am not forgetful. I am writing most every day, I feel like I am making a difference at the school. I am growing up. I am able to research and write messages about what I care about for every Sunday. I've had some great meetings lately. I know that I am growing as a story-teller, as a brother, as a short-style message creator, and as a husband. I am doing better at reaching out than ever before. And yet there are imperfections. There are so many ideals that I would like to attain. I want my friends to get along. I want my family to be one. I want to have time for that and more. I'm sure it all comes with time. I don't just want for my happiness anymore. Thats big for me. Also, is it just me, or is it hilarious when "kids" are arguing over their pickup

Pinning down what I want out of life is difficult. There are simply too many things that I can't mention because I haven't tried yet, and I don't to rule out. Maybe I want to work a boat on the ocean, I don't know yet, I have never seen the ocean. Maybe I want to give up all work with people someday and just write in a socluded room like Emily Dickinson. Could be interesting. Maybe I want to be a huge nerd and just plow through code on a computer all day, or be a motivational speak. Yes, its terrifying, but maybe thats just because I haven't tried it yet. So some day I'll write about all the things I don't want to do. But as I think about it, most of them involve people. Which really is where my heart lies. I don't like the idea of moving so far from friends and family that I will only see them on great occasions. I've never liked the concept that says: "I will make new friends" But, thats probably just me. Some day I'll pin it all

Imagine if you could have a vial, that could just transport your essence to places you'll never have a chance to travel to. It could contain your humor, your values, your mind-set. Or if there existed some kind of weapon, for fending off sea-creatures or to harpoon the great whales of life. To accomplish things you could never attain with the time you are allotted. Or maybe some device that could always put the wind to your back. To allow for a low tide when you just need to pick sea-shells off the shore, and will produce a high tide when its time to launch the sailboat. What a need there is for someone, something, to write home to you, to remind you that, yes, life is different now, but you are still needed, and that you are indeed, missed. You are not alone. Will we ever find this Someone? This Device? This Weapon? This Vial? Yes. We call them friends.

"Now the man with no shoes on, says I don’t know how to play. He says I fumble all the time. He thinks that I am John Elway. I put my face down in my hands, water wells inside my eyes. What do I have to give them? Does it matter if I try? I can’t stand to see yousuffer, I try to intellectualize, a formula to end you pain, it doesn’t work, God knows I’ve tried. Sometimes my cup is overfilled. Sometimes I’m too afraid that I’m going to spill. I want to try and save the world, but it never goes that way. God I don’t know what to do, down at Colfax and Broadway." -Where The Zero Meets The 15, FIF Five Iron doesn't brings God into the mundane. Onto a city street. Into, you know, everyday life. Where He belongs. I think we all have an idea of what the ideal Christian should look like. And so we look at our own lives and think, well, I don't pray and read my Bible as well, or as much, as that. Even though I'm thinking about God a lot, I am not always in a religious

On occasion I am reminded of one of my biggest faults. It doesn't happen often, probably not as often as it should, but when it does, I am shaken violently, and reminded of my smallness. Something big happens, it usually takes something big to move me, but it springs up, out of nowhere, and all I want to do is hide. Doubt enters my mind. I am shaken when I find out that things I count on don't come to fruition. Its why I am so crazy about setting up all the safety nets I have for myself. Its why I waited far too long to get married, and why even words from someone can send me reeling. Words that I've told myself over and over again, do not matter, but yet here I am, gasping for breath again. It really isn't that dramatic, eh. But it is real, it is a window into this heart of mine that does not trust, even myself. I watch athletes at the super bowl and wonder, "how can the be so composed?" Or a pastor I respect and think, "how can they have so mu

For the first time, I'm listening to music while I write this. By the way, today's post is going to be a little sloppy, I don't have a plan for this... just writing. But anyway, music. I'm always surprised when I ask people what music they like, and they say they don't really listen to music, or they just listen to whatever is on the radio. I've found some good music there, but it certainly isn't a main channel. I know a lot of good music, you know, because I live in such a major music hub. Just playin. No, I know a lot of good music, lots of good sound. But even better than that is that I do know a fair amount of music worth listening to. Everybody likes good sound. White stripes, audioslave, System. Good sound. Gets your blood pumping, awesome guitar, snappy drums. But the lyrics don't hold me, not one bit. I demand from my music a unique perspective. I want lyrics that I see differently every time, like looking at a diamond from a different ang

I know that this is a diversion from what I usually write about, but last night I dug up a short story I had been working on over 3 years ago. I stopped working on it because frankly, the idea of pacing out a short story is terrifying to a guy that rarely rambles for more than a few pages. Having to draw out characters, know them on a "normal" day, to paint them through different scenes so that the reader would know them for more than their frenetic actions when the action is on. But it was terribly interesting to go back and read. I hope I'm not the only one to look back on a writing, or really, and creative bit, with surprise. Like a 7th grade art project that you had forgotten about. When you look upon something like that, sometimes you see something that makes you think "I know what you were going for there." Almost like you are now proud of your past self. Come to think of it there's a baby picture of me that I've looked at, and thought, little

Intention is something of a lost art form. I distinctly remember a conversation I had with some co-workers at my old job. We were talking about intention, and it was amazing how low their view of intent was. "I didn't intend to shoot that guy" "I didn't intend to flip my car" "I didn't intend to do drugs" None of those statements are helpful. Intention is lost to our society because our society has become so relative. One's intention doesn't matter if it doesn't fit into another's perspective. "I didn't intend to hurt your feelings, or put you in a tough spot, or get you upset" "Well you did" But all of this is intention in a negative sense. I will leave that to judges and juries. Intention, in any kind of important, transformative way, comes into play in its positive form. The negative form is mainly about how, when trying for a positive result, a negative outcome resulted instead. The posi

Predisposed to bigotry, the regular run-of-the-mill American story. The stench of greasepaint on our faces, pass the mask to our next of kin, instead of wiser idioms, like "love the sinner, hate the sin". -Fahrenheit, FIF Yeah, Five Iron Friday is basically going to be me, posting a bridge from a Five Iron song, and then talking about it. I've always been a fan of their "lesser" songs, the ones that don't get played at their concerts, the ones that are edgy and point out things that I haven't even seen in myself. I most definitely grew up the way that this song talks about. While we can say that we see the world clearly, we see it through the mask that has been passed to us. I have grown up in churches where if a gay person would walk in and sit down in a pew, they would, regardless of what we might say, be treated differently. Sirens would go off in our heads, and whether that was obvious or not, it is true. I could say the same for other races.