Excused Absence

To Whom it May Concern,

Please excuse Michael Gray from blogging for a short time. Like the rest of us, he is pouring himself into his work and is tapping himself of as much creativity and energy as he can for the time being. While he yearns to write another post, he yearns even more for sleep. We hope to have him back in the blogosphere sometime after Easter.

Sincerely,

The Management

Focussed Prayer

Many times have I said a prayer that included the phrase, "...God, I pray for your will do be done in this situation...". I think we get this phrase from reading Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night he was captured to be crucified. You know the phrase -- "Yet, not as I will, but as you will."

That phrase is very important in prayer, but I don't think it was intended to stand on its own. Jesus first prayed that God would completely remove the need for him to be crucified. He was specific in his request. He made it clear that he did not want to go to the cross. Only after doing that did he commit to following God's will, regardless of the outcome.

In my prayers, I tend to make suggestions to God rather than straight-up asking him to intervene in my life. I like to start everything thing with, "If its your will...". When you stop to think about it, it seems so impersonal -- like I'm asking a stranger for a favor. If God is our Father, we should approach him like a child would his father.

I am learning that I need to be more bold, more specific for what I pray for. I need to go in believing that God will hear my prayers and that he will answer them. I think that always praying "whatever your will" has been a cop-out for me so that I can avoid being direct.

So my prayer for right now is this:

"God, you know that Heidi and I have been trying to have a baby for the past two years. You have given us the desire to raise children and you have let that fire burn in our hearts for some time now. God, we ask specifically that you bless us with conceiving a child this month. We have always prayed that you would send us a child in your time and we are asking that the month of March be your time. Yet, not as we will, but as you will."

Your added prayers for this situation would be greatly appreciated.

AnGRRRR...

I would say that I'm not an angry guy.

Anger is not one of my vices -- I'm generally easy-going and moderately patient with people. I don't curse at swervy drivers, or call people mean names, or get into (too many) street fights. I'm what you might call an even-tempered guy.

Except on the basketball court. I can get so angry when I play basketball.

I don't get angry when Gumm doesn't feed me the ball in the post, or when Derrick keeps air-balling his 3s, or when Darius intentionally chooses not to be on my team. I get angry only at myself.

When I make stupid mistakes on the court, I become so frustrated. Today I air-balled an easy jump shot, followed my shot, and punched the ball clear up to the rafters (catching your own air-ball is called travelling, so that's why I didn't try to save it). Sometimes I will swoop in for a layup, brick it off the backboard, and then yell out, "COME ON GRAY, YOU STINK!" And I'm really mad at myself.

Now, if I am going up for a tough shot and I miss, I have no problem with that. If someone shot-fakes me and dribbles around, I tell them, "good job". Its the stupid mistakes that get me so fired up. Its not that I'm terribly competitive because truly competitive people compete in everything ("Dude, I bet I can eat a two-scoop ice cream cone faster than you") and I get annoyed at that sort of person.

So I'm going to lay down on the blogger psychoanalyst couch and let you shrink me. If I only get angry with myself for doing stupid things, does that make me an angry person? Do I have a problem? I'm paying by the hour, so be honest.

I Don't Get it...

Most of my blogs deal with the lighter side of life because I enjoy writing about things that are fun. On occasion, however, I will blog about something more serious -- which is the case with today's post. I'm going to forgo the typical "I don't speak for my church, my friends, my family, or my loud neighbor next door" routine because I think that anyone with half a brain understands that this blog is mine and that I am speaking only for myself. If you have half a brain or less, please stop reading now.

I have a very hard time understanding certain aspects of the gay community. While I do have personal convictions on homosexuality, this post is not being written from any spiritual, scriptural, or otherwise religious basis; this is just me trying to understand what an average gay person thinks/feels/wants when in a relationship -- and I'm stumped about one thing in particular:

Why would a gay woman be attracted to a masculine woman, and why would a gay man be attracted to a feminine man? The whole concept of being gay is that you are not attracted to the opposite sex, is it not? Why, then, is it common to see gay couples paired in such opposite-sex ways?*** Is the lack of attraction specific only to the anatomy of the opposite sex?

When I say that I am attracted to my wife, I am not only speaking of her body [further commentary on my wife's body withheld], but also about her nature as a woman. I am terribly attracted to her feminine qualities because those characteristics are so...female. I can only assume that the same holds true in my wife's attraction for me (in fact, I can tell you for certain that she isn't hanging around just so that she can "get with this") . She is attracted to the non-physical qualities that make me a man. Pure attraction, by nature, requires both a physical and emotional connection doesn't it?

To boil my confusion down to one statement, I would say that I find it hard to understand how gay people can have a physical attraction to the "bodily qualities" of the same sex, but an emotional attraction to the "nature qualities" of the opposite sex. This is something that I have been unable to understand for quite some time now.

Comments to this post are appreciated as long as they are respectful.

***Many people might say that I am being stereotypical or generalizing gays with this statement. To that I answer: you are 100% correct. The fact that I am generalizing only indicates that I am able to make statements based on what is commonly observed, and it doesn't mean that I am saying that all gay couples are this way. I do, however, believe that it is a valid statement about the majority of gay couples.

What Dreams May Come...

Dreams are very interesting occurrences aren't they? While your body is prostrate in restful slumber, your mind is throwing a neighborhood block party. Its almost as if the brain gets bored with rest before the body does. Like a child without adult supervision, the mind gets into all the cupboards of the brain and makes a mess. Dreams are ADHD of the mind.

The thing I like best about dreams is the fact that there are no rules governing the dream world. Things that are impossible or ridiculous in real life are completely run-of-the-mill in dreams. If, in real life, I saw a pink moose singing Sinatra songs in the toilet paper aisle at Safeway, I would go immediately to the psychiatrist and get some help. But in dreams, there is always a perfectly reasonable answer for that moose being there, and an equally valid reason why a moose would be singing Sinatra rather than Marvin Gaye. I love that.

In dreams, it is perfectly normal to wear clown shoes to your ex-girlfriend's wedding. In fact, the mother of the bride would undoubtedly compliment you on your style and then lament the fact that her daughter ever let you slip out of her hands.

Here are some of my most vivid weird-but-not-weird dreams:

A family of large, flying Weebles cheering me on as I complete a Noah's Ark jigsaw puzzle at my dinner table in Portales, New Mexico. The only problem was that they only clapped when I put the wrong piece in the wrong place. Weebles are jerks.

My favorite Humpty Dumpty stuffed toy taking me by one arm and one leg, spinning me around wildly, and throwing me through the glass window in my bedroom. He was paying me back for not being more gentle with him, I guess.

Me riding on the back of a flying, fire-breathing dragon and turning to lock lips with the princess hanging on behind me. She was your stereotypical princess - pink gown, tall, pointy pink hat, blonde hair. Beautiful.

Stopping by someone's house and playing with their litter of Cockercats -- half house cat, half Cocker Spaniel -- and thinking that they were, by far, the cutest pets alive.

Those are a few of the ones I remember off the top of my head.

Ok, homework time.

Since you read this blog, I want you to add to it by posting one of your most vivid dreams that had unusual elements that weren't unusual in the actual dream. Everyone loves a good dream. Let's hear yours...

Man vs. Wild

Heidi and I have recently taken a renewed interest in hiking. In past years, we would occasionally go hiking, but we never really kept at it because traveling to Camelback Mountain, or Squaw Peak was always too much of a trek. Now that we have discovered the trails at the nearby White Tank Mountains, our love for wilderness recreation has been reborn.

On our first hike, we decided to try one of the intermediate trails. The total hike was somewhere around 4 miles round trip, and took us about 2.5 hours. I wouldn't say that it was a difficult hike, but it was relatively challenging for two people who have not been hiking in years. On the way down, I thought it might be nice to view the scenery rather than watch my step, and I ended up spraining my ankle.

Prior to our most recent hike, we visited Sports Authority and loaded ourselves up with the right hiking equipment (ankle-supporting, waterproof hiking boots and Camelback water packs). We planned to go hiking on President's Day.

It rained on President's Day.

We were bummed because we were both looking forward to hiking on our day off. We stayed home and watched a movie that afternoon (we watched "Pride and Prejudice" as it happens -- a great film). At about 4:00, we looked to the West and saw blue skies. That was an invitation from God to enjoy his creation by hiking through it. So we headed out.

We took the waterfall trail hoping that the day's rain would make it possible for us to actually see water running over the falls. The weather was absolutely beautiful. Once we got to the top and saw the waterfall canyon, we turned to head back down the mountain. As we were making our way back, I noticed a very dark, ominous cloud come blowing in over the mountain. By about 1/4 of the way back down, we were beginning to be pelted by hail. After the hail came the rain. After the rain came more rain.

By the time we made it back to the car, Heidi, Bella (our dog), and I were soaked to the bone. It was the most fun I have had in a very long time. Heidi, who absolutely HATES being wet and cold, even agreed that it was fun hiking through the rain.

I think that watching that show on the Discovery Channel called "Man vs. Wild" has given us both a sense of adventure when it comes to braving the elements on our own. Please, no comments about how not-a-big-deal it is to hike in the rain. We are starting with rainstorms and working our way up to the Amazon. Baby steps...baby steps.

BIG Mistakes...

Mistakes are common. Every one of us makes mistakes on a daily basis. Mistakes can be as benign as putting your left sock on inside-out; they can be mistakes of negligence like forgetting to feed the dog; they can even be communication mistakes that acidentally start arguments -- like when your wife asks, "Do these pants make my butt look big?" while you are playing 007 and you unwittingly nod, "Uh-huh".

Mistakes are unavoidable. The tragedy regarding mistakes is that, on occasion, people make BIG mistakes. BIG mistakes are not all that common and are therefore not easy to overlook.

Last week, I had the glorious fortune to commit a BIG mistake with my job (please note the sarcastic italics). My mistake is far too freshly-committed at this time for me to go into detail, so I will save the specifics for another day (or another year perhaps). When BIG mistakes are committed, it is always good for others to offer sincere consolation to the offender. My boss, Pastor Greg, very mercifully told me this funny story in response to my BIG mistake:

On the very fist day of his new job at IBM, an employee made a mistake that cost the company over 2 million dollars. The next day, the employee hand-delivered his resignation to his boss.

"What is this for?" the boss asked.

"I figured that after yesterday's mistake," replied the man "that I would be fired for sure. I wanted to save you the trouble of firing me by resigning."

The boss looked at the employee and asked, "Why in the world would I fire you after just spending 2 million dollars to train you?"

You see, I have learned that the key to life after BIG mistakes is learning to never commit the same mistake a second time. Let's all pause right now and say a prayer that I don't commit my BIG mistake again...

[pause]

Amen.

My Home Team Mutated!

Heidi and I love the home team that we have been with over the past year. They have become some of our best friends of all time.

Last month, the group we have grown so close to mutated into two new home teams. I say "mutated" because the other similar words that popped into my mind didn't do justice to what happened. To say we split implies that we went our separate ways after some sort of fallout -- that didn't happen; to say we multiplied sounds to me like we all just started producing babies at rabbit-speed or something -- to date only Brent and Jessica have produced a baby while in our home team (due March 12, 2007!); to say that we diversified our interests is just too corporate America.

I choose the word mutated because it makes me think of the movie "X-Men". In that movie, mutation was both a bad and a good thing for society. For us, our mutation was bad in the sense that we were choosing to take half of our group and have them participate in the exact same event that we had every Wednesday night for over a year, only in a different place. We were losing time with friends that we looked forward to seeing and studying with each week.

What we realized, however, is that our mutation would allow other people in our church the chance to feel the same connection and spiritual growth that we experienced over the past year. Our home team was given a great gift. For us to hoard our personal connection all for ourselves would be selfish and short-sighted.

I'll be honest, the members of our home team do not have special powers like the "X-Men" characters (though, I do believe that Aaron is part Superman), but we have been given the chance to share the power of God's word through Bible study, and a chance for others to feel connected to Palm Valley through our home team.

And those are powers that must be shared with others.

My Personal Guitar Hero

Most of you who read this blog know that I occasionally play guitar for the praiseteam at Palm Valley Church (that is until Derrick Logan came waltzing in with his tall, spiky hair and soul patch, and showed the world that there are far better guitarists out there. Just kidding buddy -- you rock major big-time bad).

What many of you don't know is that I owe just about anything I know about guitar to my fellow praiseteam member Jason Palmer (shown above shredding some insane licks on his axe). I am really a very "special ed" type of guitar learner (MiMR for you educators out there). It has just never been something that comes naturally to me.

Ever since right after college, Jason has slowly shown me how to play guitar. It all started when we played together for Sunday Night Alive (a contemporary service trying to make it in the Presbyterian world -- don't ask, please). He led the band with his bass and I was the [snicker, snicker] lead guitarist. Basically, we started playing songs that only used the notes G, C, and D -- and we played them at about half-pace.

As time went on, I entered into the magnificent world known as, "Notes Other than G, C, or D". From there, I journeyed through "The Land of Bar Chords", a place full of inward cursing and kicking things out of frustration. We also visited "Tempo Town" and "Rhythm Ridge" from time-to-time. Finally, after all my travels, I began to resemble an actual guitarist. Then the contemporary service went bye-bye.

Years later, I joined PVCs team and grew as a guitarist a little more each week that I was on. About 9 months after that, Jason and Nikki started coming to Palm Valley and I prodded him to join the team. He was leery at first, but finally relented. Now, we get the chance to play together semi-regularly and he continues to help me refine my skills.

My newest venture is to become more adept at the electric guitar. It is different in many ways than playing an acoustic. Sometimes it feels like I'm starting over again. But I know that I have the best guitar teacher I have known helping me along -- and that makes me feel more confident when it comes time to melt some faces!

Thanks Jay. You rock!

A Vision for 2007 (Part 1)

Earlier this week, the church staff at Palm Valley met together as Pastor Greg presented the vision for ministry for the coming year. The vision he outlined included tools to help us strive toward our ultimate mission of leading people to become fully devoted followers of Christ. Since one of my personal goals is to become a more effective leader at Palm Valley Church, I though I would take the tools he gave us and reflect on them personally in an effort to more effectively apply them to my life.

1. Work with Passion

For me, working with passion means that I need to realize each day that my work might catch the eye of a hurting person and offer them a step toward healing that they never knew was there. My work might help a person who has become cynical about church feel more comfortable because we have created a church environment they can actually relate to. My work might make it easier for someone to invite a lost friend to church.

If I continually cultivate passion for what I do, it will show in my work and ultimately help to touch lives.

2. Lead with Integrity

We all know in our heads what the perfect boss should be like, how the perfect leader would act. But put us in a position of leadership and we oftentimes find that becoming a leader of excellence takes a great deal of self-discipline and is nowhere near as easy as we thought it would be

Leading with integrity means that we develop a consistency that characterizes our lives, public and private. I know that, in order to focus on being a good leader at church, I need to also focus on paying my bills on time or helping with dishes at home. A true leader is able to strike a balance between excelling at work and excelling at home. That is my goal.

3. Develop and Unleash Leaders

This one is tough for me at times. On one hand, I love enabling people to take initiative and step out in leadership; on the other hand, I also have difficulty letting go of control because I tend to be a perfectionist. I guess you could say that I do a better job at development and a poorer job at unleashing.

With the "Seize the Moment" campaign coming up, I am going to be forced (in a good way) to rely on others to help me. During this time, it is my goal to identify, develop, and unleash leaders who will then go and do the same. I want to loosen my grip on my ministry so that potential leaders have room to spring up around me.

4. Cast Vision Regularly and Creatively

When we lose sight of our vision, we become discouraged and tired. Ministry begins to feel like a job. Setup and teardown begins to tire me more and make me grumpy. But when I focus on the fact that by rolling out mats or running cables I am creating an environment that may lead someone to Christ, the burden of it seems so light and I actually begin to enjoy it (don't tell Mark or Greg).

If I am to raise leaders up and call people toward a goal, I will need to cast the vision. No one will work for Michael Gray, but they will work if they see that their efforts make a difference in the lives of others.

5. Honor Your Family

I love my wife more than anything, and I need to become more protective of my time with her. We used to work close to each other and commute together for 1 and 1/2 hours a day. I loved spending that time with her each day. We also had the entire weekend to ourselves. Now, we only spend evenings together (times where we are usually exhausted from the day) and only part of the weekends together (her days off are my days on).

An entire day with Heidi is a rare occurence.

While I love my job, I am going to have to learn to leave it from time to time for something I love far more. This may mean that something doesn't get done. That is tough for me. But I know that honoring my job above my wife is not honoring God -- even if I work for a church.

Hoopin' it Up (If You Can Call it That)

Well, I just returned from another evening of torture, I mean playing basketball, at LIFETIME Fitness. I do not use the word torture in a physical sense (though a fat guy playing full court ball is not easy on the body), rather in a mental sense. If I am going to be specific, I think maybe it is more of a masochism because no one is inflicting mental anguish on me; I am simply doing it to myself.

You see, in my head I play ball like I did when I was in high school. My mind makes crisp passes to my teammates, boxes out for monster rebounds, posts up strong in the paint, even drives to the hoop for the occasional dunk. In my head, I am a force to be reckoned with.

But then I get the ball in my hands and, for some reason, my brain disconnects completely from my brain stem. The grandiose images of me implementing my "skills" come face-to-face with the harsh reality that even the nerve endings in my body have become fat and lazy.

My brain tells my body, "There's Darius streaking to the hoop. Let's zip a pass to him and give him an assist!" but my nerve endings only receive, "There's Darius streaking. Wouldn't that be funny if he really was streaking? Wonder what's on CSI tonight?"

By that time, someone has stripped the ball from me and made a layup on the other end of the court. Darius is looking at me like I should probably be in sculpting Play-Dough snowmen with the kids in daycare. All I can do is say, "Sorry man, my brain stem is not fully connected to my brain." That usually doesn't inspire much confidence in my teammates. They don't pass me the ball much after that.

As you can see, the mental anguish is quite a hurdle for me. I'm going to keep at it though. One of these days I'm going to whip the ball to Big D and he's going to soar in for a layup, and when he turns to head back down court, he's going to point to me and say, "Nice pass Big Dawg."

Then I will know that my brain stem is making a comeback.

My Kind of Friday

I am just now wrapping up one of the most relaxing and enjoyable days that I have had in months. Today I had the chance to spend the entire day with Heidi -- an event that has become almost completely foreign to me. With our differing work schedules, we have almost completely forgotten what it is like to have a full day alone. I am off on Fridays -- she works. She is off on weekends -- I work. She is still on her Christmas break (she is a teacher) and I stayed at work yesterday until 10:00 to ensure that I could actually take today off.

I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is for me to spend time with my wife. She is so fun to be with and she completely eliminates any stress or frustration that I feel. She helps me to regenerate strength and a positive attitude, just by being near me. We didn't do anything particularly eventful today, we just had a whole day to ourselves. No work. No friends. No family. No church. No plans. Just us.

We slept in until 9:00. We drank our coffee in bed and played Mario Bros. on our new Nintendo DS (thanks Dad). We ate a late lunch at Panda Express. We got Jamba Juice for dessert. We went Christmas shopping (we are having a late Christmas with her family on Sunday). We took the long route home from the mall and just talked. We got home and watched 2 movies. We ordered Papa John's. We drank hot chocolate.

To some, this may seem like a wasted day.

For me, this was my kind of Friday.

Boise State @ the Fiesta Bowl

I just got finished watching the last of the Fiesta Bowl between Boise State and Oklahoma University. I am not tied to either of these teams in any way and I didn't watch much of the game, but I was floored by the way Boise State played at the end. Seeing a game come down to the wire is entertaining enough, but watching an underdog team win using a very tricksy playbook is absolutely amazing.

Congratulations Boise State. You earned it.

Afternoon Tea at the Grand America

I just returned from experiencing an afternoon tea at the Grand America Hotel in downtown Salt Lake City. I'm sure that many of you manly-men might wonder why another guy would ever consider being within 100 yards of an afternoon tea, but it was really enjoyable.

This place is a 5-star hotel and is incredible. We (me, Heidi, my sister Erin, her husband Jared, and my mom) sat just off the main lobby where we were served finger sandwiches, scones, desserts, and of course tea. I chose a white tea, which I have never heard of before. It was great -- had a bit of a spicy, peppery flavor. Very unique taste.

While we sipped and ate, we listened to a very gifted harpist playing music in the center of the room. What is most interesting is that the harpist was Elizabeth Smart. You may remember a few years ago that she was kidnapped from her Utah home and forced to wander around the west in a disguise as one of the wives of some very bizarre self-proclaimed prophet/savior/messiah. She was rescued about a year later -- something that almost nobody could have predicted.

While listening to her play her harp beautifully, I began to feel bad for her situation. Here she was playing elegant music in front of people who recognize her and whisper comments to the people around them about what had happened to her. I'm sure that all the people who make comments do not mean to be rude or hurtful or judge her about anything, but I imagine that she feels a tremendous burden while she sits in front of people in such a public setting.

I imagine that each time she makes eye-contact with someone she wonders if they are thinking or talking about what had happened to her. Replaying bad memories on your own is problem enough, but I would guess that being reminded of your past in the eyes of a perfect stranger has to be even more difficult. I pray that she is able to live her life without the past constantly haunting her.

All things aside, she is an amazingly capable harpist and it was a pleasure to hear her play.

Devils, Black Sheep, Really Bad Eggs

I just learned of a very interesting online sweepstakes -- one that I would absolutely LOVE to win. If you go to www.disneypirates.com, you can enter a drawing to have your likeness added to the next ride update of Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland. Added as in have a new animatronics character that looks like you placed in the ride.

Wouldn't that be the most amazing thing -- to have thousands of people a day, from all corners of the globe, float slowly by your pillaging likeness? To remind friends and family to watch for you singing, "Drink up me hearties, yo ho!" while your new buddies dip the mayor into the well ("Don't tell heeem Carlos. Don't be cheeekin".) Or better yet, what if you got to sail by and see yourself place a bid at the wench auction to have that redhead as your bride (We want the redhead!)? That would be awesome.

In addition to the chance of becoming a part of Disney history, the winner will also get:

• A 3 day/2 night trip for four to Glendale, California where all members of the party 16 or older will receive a tour of Walt Disney Imagineering, the winner will sit with an Imagineer to do the artwork necessary, and the party will have lunch with an Imagineer.

• A 3 day/2 night trip for four to Disneyland, including the Pirates of the Caribbean suite at the Disneyland Hotel, use of a VIP tour guide at the park, park hopper tickets, covered meals (including one lunch at Blue Bayou), and a $100 gift card for buying merchandise.

I am so winning that.

Stick-on Bullet Holes

My amazingly great friend from college, Jason M. Hammond, recently participated in a stand-up comedy program for Disneyland cast members who had, at one time or another, worked as skippers on the world famous Jungle Cruise. This is a hilarious routine and I wanted to share it with you.

Please pardon all the filthy language (just kidding).



Hilarious Jay, just hilarious.

I'm Over it Now

Thanks to all of you who took the time to not only read my blog, but also offer up encouraging words to me. I really debated on whether I should post my last entry after I wrote it because I knew even at the time that I was being more emotionally-driven than clear-headed-driven (amazing, a three-hyphen word!). I decided, though, that writing down and saving feelings is rarely a bad thing -- even if they are the sort of feelings that are self-centered and melancholy.

What is interesting for me, is being in a good mood and going back and reading something that was written when I was in a depressed mood. I am not typically the sort of person who feels down too often. Generally, I am happy -- and that happiness is 100% genuine. I am a blessed person and I know that I get much more than I deserve from life. Sometimes my feelings get the best of me.

Feelings are funny things. In today's world, we always hear about how valuable our feelings are and how someone's feelings should always be validated, and never criticized. That is a load of stinky poo-dung.

I find that most of the time, feelings only serve to distort reality and promote a self-centric view of the world. I generally do not like to be around people who are always talking about their feelings because all they talk about is themselves and blame everyone else (or just life in general) for picking on poor little them.

You know these people -- they are the ones at your workplace who shuffle in each day with a pathetic Bassett Hound look on their faces. When you ask them, "How's it going?" they just sigh their heavy sighs and say something that corners you into asking them more questions out of guilt because you don't want to be known as the heartless guy who doesn't validate the feelings of the guy in the next cubicle/classroom/office/urinal over. These people are draining.

Now having said that, please know that I do not mind the occasional rough day or the occasional venting of feelings, which is what I believe that I did. By writing my feelings out, I got a chance (as did a handful of other people in my life) to see how obnoxiously selfish my feelings were, and I was able to get them out of my system within a few days.

It felt good to vent my feelings, but I'm over them now.

Regression...

Today, I am feeling a little down.

I feel like my kindness is not appreciated by those to whom I give it.

I feel like my potential is never recognized.

I feel like I am a terrible communicator.

I feel like no one takes me seriously.

I feel like I am a weak leader.

I feel like I can't find my footing in life.

I feel like I'm broken.

I feel like no one cares about my thoughts.

I feel like I am alone.

I feel like no one is going to read this.

I feel like others get recognition for every little thing, but I get none for big things.

During my high school and college days, I struggled with my self-esteem. This is certainly not something that anyone is surprised at because everyone deals with it at some time in his life. The thing with me, however, is that one day I just stopped not-believing in myself. To state it more clearly, I started believing in myself.

In my change of heart, I never became arrogant -- I just decided that in order to lead a meaningful life, I needed to be more confident in who I am. I know God made me for a positive reason and I didn't want to cheapen that. It irritated me that I always looked at what I was not compared to so-and-so and that others felt compelled to build me up -- not because I deserved it, but because they didn't want to be around a mopey person. I decided to stop comparing myself to others and focus on my abilities. And, for the most part, it has worked.

On occasions, like today for example, I get those old feelings creeping back into my mind. Sometimes I wonder if I bet on a lame horse when I decided to be more confident in myself. Its not like I am saying that I am worthless or that my life is meaningless; I just wonder sometimes how much worth I truly have or if my life has much meaning on the whole.

How important am I really to the people in my life? Some days, I just feel like I'm not at all.

The Road to Stardom

Hey, check out this video of our dog Bella on TV.

On Living a Life Void of Needless Complexity

The recent tragic news of the senseless and evil murder of Amish schoolgirls in Nickel Mines, PA has shoved the Amish community into the media spotlight again. It seems like any news coverage of any group of people, especially the Amish, must have the prerequisite of being saturated with sensationalism before it is broadcast. This is exactly what I'd imagine they don't want to happen.

While I understand that news stations are "required" to cover this breaking story because tragedy is considered newsworthy, I equally understand the Amish not wanting the "outside world" pointing their little cameras at every man in a wide-brimmed hat and every horse-drawn carriage they see. I think the peculiarity of the Amish community adds to the hype in immeasurable ways.

How peculiar to live in a society that holds fast to tradition and simplicity. How peculiar to live a life without technological advances. How peculiar that their families and their local church is held in such high regard, with such respect.

Peculiar? On the surface perhaps, but how many of us on some days would consider trading our cell phones, laptops, 51" widescreen televisions, daily commutes, tensions at work, and cookie-cutter homes for the life they live?

Can you imagine a life where you work the soil for a living? Where you wake up with the sun to tend to your animals and acres upon acres of fertile farmland? Where if you need a barn built, the entire community raises it for you in a matter of days? Where the local church and religious devotion are central to your everyday life? Where, if your daughter is senselessly murdered in school, you have an entire community to join you in mourning her loss?

We sometimes scoff at their simplicity, but oftentimes our complexity is what deserves the scoffing. Are we really better off in our HOA-regulated, hedonistic, technologically advanced lives than they are in their tightly-knit, community focused, blood, sweat, and tears life?

Sometimes I'm not so sure.