my careless contagion

The last time I attended church (last summer, I think), we sang some old songs I once knew by heart. And my heart still knew them, though maybe not all the words. I cried when we sang a particular old favorite. I miss going to church. I miss the songs. I miss the way it used to be. Because He Lives is one of those songs that still resonates. There is an absolute fire in me for God that is untarnished and undulled by time. I chose a piano version of this song because it's pure. It's a little slower than I would like (it should sound like a victory march); you know how so many hymns sound like a funeral dirge (Amazing Grace, I'm looking at you) because of the tempo. Also, I didn't want someone to put some shiny vocals on there. It seems like every time someone slaps some vocals on a hymn they think the vocals should shine instead of God. Just sing the song. It's about God. People will get it. It's not about you. Anyway. Got that outburst out of the way. Onward. Ne...

It's official. I have a new place. Back on my own again. Or, I will be, as soon as I sign the lease agreement today and then slowly move my things, starting who knows when.  Feeling I hadn't given a proper explanation about the whole scenario, I decided to pen something now that the process is nearly complete.  It was late March of last year when I propositioned my ex with an email that contained more than 30 points of consideration. The gist of it was I suggested allowing me to move into her house that she rented outside our old town in South Dakota. I offered to help with rent in exchange for allowing me some space of my own (the attic room where my TV, computer, and desk would sit and my bed would be in my son's room). The idea was we would save money for a future move, a move that would see us moving as one unit for the stability of all. I was mainly concerned about how our son would handle the move. I imagined buying a house was the way to go because it would finally g...

I began to think seriously about the topic of favoritism after a recent visit from my parents. I won't get into my family's favoritism. I saw it go as far back as my grandfather, though. I see it in the newest generation. It's clearly a problem, yet no one wants to address it.  Favoritism has long-lasting and devastating consequences in families, even generations later. The Bible has some examples of favoritism from which we can learn. I'm sure we can think of examples in our own lives too. It's a rather ugly thing. We can spot it in others a mile away. But can we see it in ourselves?  The Bible warns us not to show favoritism, as God does not show favor based on things people do, such as wealth or fame. It repeatedly warns against an uneven way of measuring or judging people. A lot of those verses are found in Proverbs. If God shows favoritism, it is only toward His people, though He clearly left the door open to heaven and His blessings to everyone in the world. (...

This is one of my favorite things. I enjoy looking back at how awesome and wonderful and sometimes detestable our popular culture was. Care to follow along? Don't care? Okay, square. You can stay home and miss all the fun. Relax with a dizzying dazzle of towels after a hot shower and jump into an even more horrifying bed of patterns guaranteed to make your eyes hurt.  I know this is hard to read, but I have a point to make. Everything in the 70s had a pattern! Even toilet paper! Everything was colorful. And, often, the colors matched everything around it (a design faux pas now). In an era when everything is stainless steel, black, or white, it may seem strange. But it was glorious. For the record, my personal design philosophy (if I'm allowed to have one as a heterosexual male) is minimalistic and clean. Still, there is something endearing in these old designs.  Though the sardines are arranged in a pleasing pattern, this is not endearing. This is horrifying, (oh, but those cu...

I woke at 1 am one morning and wrote this. I love how effortless writing about that girl is. If everything in life was as easy, life would be a completely different experience. Can I kiss you? He thought he should ask, but he never did. As it turned out, he didn’t need to. He simply cupped her face and kissed her. It wasn’t a great kiss, but neither of them cared. She closed her eyes, and when he pulled away, it was like electricity went through them both. She lit up, her eyes wide and wondering. He said I see my future in your eyes. I want to share my life with you. But I don’t know how to do this. Please just take my hand and let’s do it together. We’ll figure it out. We’ll make a way, starting right now, if you want. You can think about it. (She didn’t seem to need to hear that.) Let’s move forward. It won’t always be easy, but nothing good or worth doing is ever without trouble. We aren’t perfect people, but we are perfect for one another. It was clear they loved one another. It wa...