sexist thoughts

My Achilles Heel is sexual sin. I have struggled with it for quite a long time. It all started by a good feeling. I began to associate this feeling with a certain type of physical characteristic, in my case, women without imperfection or blemish thanks to hours of prep work, make-up and Photoshop. This association led me to believe that I needed a woman without physical fault, just like the fake pictures in magazines, to make me feel good. It is easy to believe that it is someone else’s job to make me feel good, and if that feeling ever faded to a lesser degree, I would question whether the woman was pretty enough for me. I had conditioned myself to believe I needed the absolute best-looking woman for happiness.

There are several things wrong with this scenario. For starters, the need to have the ‘best’ was just setting myself up for disappointment. It is an ideal that will never be satisfied. In order to have the best-looking girl, I must compare her with every other girl, and she must come out on top every time and in every category. If you’re always scrutinizing someone in comparison to others, at some point you will find something in someone else that is more desirable, or just different. Then what happens, because you realize you are not with your ‘ideal’ person?

That’s the first problem. The second is that this whole system is based on selfishness. It is all about how the girl’s physical beauty makes me feel, and if I no longer feel a certain way about that person’s beauty, then they are no longer good enough for me because they stopped meeting my ideal. I have realized that they are not without flaw.

Why should I have the right to judge someone based on a groundless ideal rooted in selfishness?

For girls, this is a bit harder to pinpoint. Many girls have spent their whole lives dreaming about how a romance will look and feel. Fairy-tales and pop-culture have painted this picture of the ideal guy that always makes the girl feel a certain way. It also tells girls that they deserve the best. This environment produces women with a sense of entitlement for ideals that are really fabrications of culture and imagination. Furthermore, these ideal actions and behavior of the ideal man are all to make the girl feel a certain way. In the same way that I began to feel a need for a pin-up model based on how she would make me feel, so does a girl for a prince charming.

You wouldn’t want to be constantly compared with the cover girls of magazines would you?

These ideals for the perfect guy are a sure recipe for disappointment. It’s no wonder girls don’t trust guys with matters of the heart. If they have built up ideals that cannot be met, guys will disappoint every time. This continual disappointment leads to the cultural belief that guys are not competent enough to love properly, and so it is the girl’s job to teach the guy how to treat her, so that she can feel the way she was taught that she deserves. Again, this is selfish at the core. It’s all about the guy doing things a certain way to make a girl feel the way she has idealized. It is all about her. Society has deemed girls the experts at love (since love is about how the girl feels, and she’s the expert of her own feelings), and guys the buffoons. How then is she supposed to respect the man she can’t even trust to make her happy?

Just as feelings come and go, so will respect and love when based on something so transient as how you feel. God has called us to something much more permanent, and profound than this. His command for men was for them to love their wives. He didn’t say to love their wives when they made them feel a certain way, nor did God qualify the command to love with a woman’s deserving actions. He told men to love, without condition, selflessly, as God leads with example in loving us.

God told wives to respect their husbands. Again, this extends beyond feelings and merit. It’s a command. If a wife’s respect was to be based on a man’s actions, than no man would deserve it, just as there is no flawless woman always deserving selfless love. But God has made provision for our inadequacy and fickleness by fixing these most important tenants of a successful relationship on a permanent and continued decision rather that how one feels at the moment.

Fixing your respect for someone on their ability to make you feel a certain way is what common culture teaches, and is absolutely wrong.

on my career

Work has been pretty slow around the office. Everyone has been hanging on to billable work, leaving me spending my time 'researching' social media and current events.

So, it comes as no surprise that my contract is not going to be renewed. After next Friday I will join the ranks of millions of other unemployed Americans, praying and waiting to see what God has up His sleeve.

Mt. Rainier on a bluebird day

idolize vs. idealize

Ideal (n)- existing as an archetypical idea

Archetypical (n)- the original pattern or model of which all things of the same type are representations or copies: PROTOTYPE; also: a perfect example

Idealize (v)- to give an ideal form or value to

Idealist (n)- one guided by ideals; especially: one that places ideals before practical considerations

Idolize (v)- to worship as a god; broadly: to love or admire to excess

Would you agree that it is safe to describe God as an idealist? I would, and for the sake of this post, will.

We, you and I; you and I and everything else in the Universe, are called by God. We are called to operate according to God’s ideals. If we all had and did, life would be perfect.

I tend to be an idealist as well, though comparing myself to God is an ugly process. Many of my ideals come from scripture. Many do not. There are perfect scenarios in my mind that I wish to be true. Often, I make decisions based on ideals, arguing that it is better to pursue an ideal and fail than to settle for mediocrity. Just as often are decisions made despite my ideals. However, between the two lies a murky grey area.

The problem with the pursuit of ideals is when we forget why we are pursuing them.

Making lots of money would be ideal. Really, money can do a lot of good, but what happens when we start to idolize making money? Our actions and motivations become governed by this new god. We start making decisions based on the ‘need’ for lots of money, and forget why it would have been ideal in the first place. We cannibalize the purpose behind the ideal in order to make more money. We begin to squash and exploit the very people we set out to help.

How about being a good host. That is an ideal trait right? The Bible mentions great hosts many times and the blessings rendered, but what happens when one idolizes being a good host and forgets why being a good host is ideal? Again, I would argue that the possible benefit given would be jeopardized. The host might start judging success in terms of numbers, popularity and reputation rather than good done. Furthermore, one could start to take credit for the good done rather than attributing it to the real source of all blessings.

What about being correct? Liked? Of good rapport? Successful? Being a good leader?

Now, how about God’s character. If anything is ideal, this is it. The Bible tells us to be like God, emulating His very characteristics. Is it even possible to idolize God’s character than? What might that look like?

In my argument, the process of idealizing to idolizing revolves around replacing the original intent of the ideal with the pursuit of the ideal’s characteristics. I would argue that the original intent of pursuing God’s characteristics is to allow us a deeper relationship of God. What happens when we replace this intent with one of idolizing individual attributes?

In the pursuit of being perfect, could we become legalistic, judgmental, and unforgiving? Could idolizing acceptance lead to too much compromise and a rejection of absolute moral guidelines (post-modernism anyone)? How about power… God is powerful right? Are the possibilities of misconstruing the original intent endless; capable of defacing a beautiful God to an entire planet? Could the ramifications of taking our eyes off the ball be so dire?

Yes.

“A fraudulent intent, however carefully concealed at the outset, will generally, in the end, betray itself” –Titus Livius

*All definition taken from Merriam-Webster online

on certainty

I was talking to my boss the other day.

He's a successful man, a partner in a successful ad agency, has a happy family and a strong relationship with our creator. We were chatting about life, politics, and religion the other day (all great office topics), when I described my uncertain future.

He smiled, sort of tipped his head to the side and sighed, "You know Matt, the one thing I become more aware of is how little I actually know."

Though this has been my experience so far, I was looking forward to the switch to being 'in the know'.

Wah wah.

Good to know.

Look Again and Think*

"Do not worry about your life…" -Matthew 6:25

A warning which needs to be repeated is that "the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches," and the lust for other things, will choke out the life of God in us (Matthew 13:22). We are never free from the recurring waves of this invasion. If the frontline of attack is not about clothes and food, it may be about money or the lack of money; or friends or the lack of friends; or the line may be drawn over difficult circumstances. It is one steady invasion, and these things will come in like a flood, unless we allow the Spirit of God to raise up the banner against it.

"I say to you, do not worry about your life…" Our Lord says to be careful only about one thing - our relationship with Him. But our common sense shouts loudly and says, "That is absurd, I must consider what I am going to eat and drink." Jesus says you must not. Beware of allowing yourself to think that He says this while not understanding your circumstances. Jesus Christ knows our circumstances better than we do, and He says we must not think about  these things to the point where they become the primary concerns in your life. Whenever there are competing concerns for your life, be sure you always put your relationship to God first.

"Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matthew 6:24). How much trouble has begun to threaten you today? What kind of mean little demons have been looking into your life and saying, "What are your plans for next month - or next summer?" Jesus tells us not to worry about any of these things. Look again and think. Keep your mind on the "much more" of your heavenly Father (Matthew 6:30).

*This entire passage takes from Oswald Chamber's My Utmost for His Highest, January 27 entry.

Last weekend. Caution! Long Blog Ahead

My commuting amigo, Mike, and I boarded the Seattle train last Friday morning. Our conversations don’t usually run very deep, so we started chatting about sports and the weekend plans. He told me of dinner arrangements, the time and place he was going to see Avatar, and what he was going to do during the Football games. Soon, it was my turn.

“So do you have any weekend plans, Matt?”

“Well, I was thinking of mtn. biking tomorrow (Saturday).”

“Really, where at?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Who are you going with?”

“Well, I don’t know yet…”

“I’m going to start calling you Mr. ‘I don’t know!”

I laugh. “Yeah…”

Sometimes, life isn’t worth planning, because I know if something better comes along, I’m going to jump on that.

Weekend comes. I’m riding the train home, calling the two people I know who enjoy mtn. biking. Kyle is working; Jon is heading to Portland for the weekend. Lame. Jon offers to call some of his other biking buddies, and see if they’re doing anything, but concedes that they probably aren’t.

“This is lame!” I thought, and wondered why it was so hard to find other people who liked to have fun when I did. Where are all the hardcore people I heard about back in TN? In a place so ripe with opportunity, I have never had this hard of a time finding people to go on adventures with. Maybe they’re all living in some hippy, green commune on the Olympic Peninsula.

Once at home, I start to make biking preparations when Jon calls me back. The guy he thought was going riding on Saturday decided he wasn’t going anymore, but, he’s hiking and snowboarding Rainier instead… and if I was interested, Jon could send me his number.

Obvious choice. I call Rory, my newfound hiking/snowboarding buddy, and make arrangements for our 6:30am departure. We meet at the gas station in some town I don’t remember the name of, and head east. Rory is 31, lives in the same town I don’t remember the name of, does finish carpentry and kicks butt mtn. biking. Awesome.

After three hours of getting to know one another, we meet one of his friends, Paul, and Paul’s friend Marty at the trailhead. Paul recently returned from trekking in the Himalayas and Marty runs forty-mile cross-country marathons and climbed Denali last spring. Awesome.

At this point, I had gone past excitement at having met such outstanding folks, to nervous of having my ass handed to me trying to keep up with them on this mountain. The plan was to ascend around 5k vertical feet, to Camp Muir, then snowboard down. Paul and Marty had the advantage of ascending with skins*, and Rory and I would try our best to keep up on snowshoes.

We started hiking in a snowing and grey mist. It was probably around 25˚, so it didn’t take long at all to warm up. We would our way up through snowy forests and clearings for about an hour. Marty had established himself as the man to keep up with, and the rest of us gave it what we could while he waited on the difference.

Because the visibility was so poor, we ended up plotting our points with a GPS. Well, Paul and Rory did that with their GPS’, Marty had been on the mountain so many times he didn’t need one, and I just assumed that everyone else would make the right decision.

We had climbed through the tree line, and up onto the base of the Muir snowfield when the cloud layer lifted. Rainier appeared in all her majesty. The Nisqually followed the valley to our left, and the Cowlitz to the right beyond a cliff line. The sky was a snowy blue with the sun trying to break through the clouds. Each breath was crystal clear, and the windward side of my face/hair was completely frozen. I could not stop grinning.

Thirty minutes turned the grin into a look more resembling determination. The Muir Snowfield is unending slope of white and scattered rock/cliffs. The clouds came back, the wind picked up, the feet acted up, the headache acted out. Paul and I were following Marty’s tracks into the snowy something. Rory was back somewhere in the snowy something following our tracks.

It was at this point I heard a crack that sounded like thunder, then, CRASH! Snow and ice had dislodged somewhere, where picking up speed and volume, and rushing down the mountain. This was the first avalanche I had heard. I’m pretty sure it started on the Nisqually icefall off to our left, but not being able to see twenty feet in front of us didn’t calm the uneasiness of the situation.

Half an hour turned into an hour. One hour turned into two and we were still trudging up this bloody snowfield. The sun had feinted a return a few times, but the world was still grey. It felt a bit like I was in the game Mist, where the world was a puzzle that could only be worked out by dogged determination and perseverance.

Through this snowy, cloudy murkiness, we saw what appeared to be a darker, murkier spot. Hope that this was the hut quickened my painfully slow pace. The dark got darker, the murkiness dissipated, the slope steepened, and I knew we were almost there.

The Camp Muir is really a collection of scrappy looking structures clinging to the side of Rainier. It’s almost comical, but really comforting. Marty had been there, chillin’ out for a while when we arrived, and soon thereafter another party emerged out of the cloud.  Paul arrived a bit later after dragging (yes, with his hands) his snowboard the whole way up the mountain.

The end is supposed to be where the whole climb becomes worth it, but I was glad to be there just to be done! And remember, we weren’t at the summit, but rather at the 10,177 foot mark. Content to rest a bit and get back to the car, I wasn’t thinking about the beauty that was hidden by the clouds.

In true mountain weather style, the clouds suddenly broke, and the sun revealed a mountain amphitheatre replete with soaring rock spires, steep snowy slopes,  foreboding glaciers, and Adam’s peak protruding above the cloud in the distance. For most of the climb I had been in my own little bubble. Step, inhale, step, exhale. Repeat. The importance of my actions to the mountain had been further established with ascending step, but that left with the clouds. I was, once again, struck with God’s beauty, majesty, power, and my place in the whole mix. Oh yeah, and grinning like a little kid in an ice-cream shop, again. God is good.

Just as the weather broke, it could return, so we decided start our decent. This wasn’t something to be dreaded. We had five thousand vertical feet of untracked powder to descend!

Riding untracked powder is another form of bliss that I could only, speculatively compare with flying. It is magical. Perfect and soft turns, dizzying and unchecked speed, and a mind and imagination instantly freed. This lasted for the first 1500 or so vertical feet before we entered the clouds.

Knowing the inherent danger surround us, we proceeded very cautiously through the clouds, checking the GPS often and regrouping regularly. It was a painfully slow process, navigating cliffs, chutes, sink holes, and flats in low visibility, but soon enough the clouds broke again.

We finished our adventure darting through trees in perfect conditions. The parking lot came all too soon, and like all other adventures this one had finished, but not before rejuvenating the mind, body, and soul. Praise God for spontaneity, adventure, and beauty.

*Skins= a one-way material that attaches to the bottom of skis, turning them into a very quick and efficient method of ascent.

Candace and the hotdog stand

Candace taking a timeout for texts last night at the Garage Voice show.

on prayer

Talking to God is a tricky endeavor for me. Often, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel when I make requests or attempt to praise the Lord. Ideally, I would be completely into whatever I was saying, but as it plays out, my feelings are often different than what I know to be true.

So, if I'm praising God in prayer, my feelings can go anywhere from a full on pouring out of my heart to merely acknowledging God's attributes. Telling God that I love Him often spans the gap from bringing me to the point of tears, to professing what I know He deserves, yet feeling none of the emotions that I would like to accompany it. What does the Lord require in prayer?

The Jewish leaders in Jesus' time prayed at length, and said all the things they were supposed to say, but their hearts weren't in it, and Jesus rebuked them. What makes my prayer any different, even if I wish my heart were in it? It seems very arrogant to approach God without some sort of praise, if only to put myself in proper perspective. And to talk to God without asking His blessings is like saying I don't need anything, which couldn't be further from the truth. In retrospect, I always feel like a spoiled brat, not appreciating what God has given me and still asking for more.

Consistently, the only prayer I can  pray with my whole heart, is found in Luke 18:13. "God have mercy on me, a sinner." Jesus said this is good. Until God shows me the next step, I'll just keep on asking for more mercy, because the Lord know's I need it.

Listen to Your Love is Strong by Jon Foreman

Brain-dead

I am brain-dead.

My brain is dead. My thoughts are gooey. My legs are rubber. My eyes are lethargic.

Today, I sat at my desk for eight hours and stared at a computer screen.

It was beautiful, outside.

Accomplishments:

- chatted with friends

- caught up on social media stuff

- checked the news

- changed my Twitter profile desigh

- at leftovers from last nights agency-client party

- instigated a Nerf-baseball war

- did one hour's worth of billable work.

It’s not that I don’t want to do anything productive, but that I did it all yesterday. Some would be happy for a day like this. Not me.

blugh…

Good things

1. Winter sunshine in Seattle
2. Forgiveness
3. Nerf Baseballs

Steeeerike!

There’s this game I found out about a long time ago. It’s super popular; pretty much everyone I know plays or has played it. It has the thrill of action sports; the satisfaction/sense of belonging that comes with being on a team; and the potential payoff of playing the lottery.

The catch is that you are guaranteed to lose every time you play, except one (and winning once isn’t even guaranteed). The one time you win also has to be the last time you play. Oh yeah, and if you try to play again after you win, you will suffer a loss worse than every other loss you’ve experienced.

I hear the payout is amazing though…

cleaning out my closet

Since moving to Seattle, I’ve been missing several important items from Tennessee. Christmas break presented the perfect opportunity to remedy the situation, and pack everything else up for when my situation becomes even more permanent.

Going through old stuff was a lot of fun. I sifted through a bunch of old photos (ladies, I was a cute baby…), packed up all of my books, emptied out my dresser drawers, and threw away a bunch of crap that needed discarding years ago.

I came across some old boxes of checks, probably from some old, closed checking accounts. Not wanting to throw them away and risk having my identity stolen, I was lamenting having to shred each one individually when I realized that I could have a lot more fun with paper than just throwing it away.

My plan had to wait until after my parents went to bed. It was really cold and windy when I took all of the checks and boxes out to the front porch of the house. After scouring the house for a lighter (which is remarkably difficult in a conservative Adventist home), it was go time.

Not that my idea was very well thought out, but I really surprised at how difficult it was to light a checkbook on fire. The wind didn’t help either, and forced me to start the fire on the porch. I first started by trying to light the spine of the checkbook on fire, but that didn’t work. Tried the other side, no luck. Lighting each individual check was quickly losing its appeal, when I laid the checkbook vertically on it’s opened pages and it started to burn beautifully.

Somehow it felt like I was rebelling against the establishment, and that laws were being broken. If Dylan would have been there, we could have had a really good time with that thought. We would have talked about how Ron Paul can save the world, how our leveraged economy is bound to crash, giggle about burning checks on the front porch of my house, and reminisce good times. He’s always been on board for breaking the law on most any way possible.

Well, the checks burned and the house didn’t. Success. It was pretty smoky inside though. I didn’t make and earth shattering discoveries, but I did have a lot of fun showing ‘the man’ who was boss. It’s the little things that count…

1st piece of furniture

Guess the title said it. The boys and I have been slowly getting our apartment together, and I have been checking Craigslist almost daily, trying to find the perfect bookcase, dresser, etc. for my taste and budget.

Well, yesterday was my big day. I found a night stand from the Depression Era for twenty bucks. Now my keys, bill-fold, and cell phone have a home for the night.

Here are a few pictures of the new set up:

... and if you have time, check out the song Stay Where you Are by Ambulance LTD here.

The Cure for Pain

Listen to song here

I'm not sure why it always goes downhill
Why broken cisterns never could stay filled
I've spent ten years singing gravity away
But the water keeps on falling from the sky

And here tonight while the stars are blacking out
With every hope and dream I've ever had in doubt
I've spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away
But the water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away

So blood is fire pulsing through our veins
We're either riders or fools behind the reigns
I've spent ten years trying to sing it all away
But the water keeps on falling from my tries

And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away
A lie to run, it would be a lie
It would be a lie to run away

It keeps on falling
Water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away

- Jon Foreman

Disillusioned

What else is there -

when love is not enough?

Missed the train

Somehow I don't really mind missing the train.

I mean I was a little put off at first, but now, twenty minutes later, I'm really glad it happened.

My whole evening had been planned out, almost down to the minute. The waiting times for the bus, time spent at home before heading to the climbing gym, time pilates class starts, when I was going to head home, go to bed etc... had all been planned out. When the train left, my plans followed suite.

Right now, I'm drinking an eggnog latte at my favorite cafe (Zeitgeist anyone?) in Seattle, just relaxing and watching people. Man sometimes I just need to slow down. Take it easy. Not miss out on life because I'm so busy planning the next step.

Ps- eggnog lattes aren't that bad, but I probably wouldn't recommend it.

food for thought

I saw a bumper sticker on the way to the train last night that read, "Don't delay joy."

"Why would anyone do that?" I thought,

"that's stupid..."

Repugnant Rationale

I believe in evolution. It is undeniable. Things evolve, or adapt. I do not believe that evolution can explain the origin of life, nor can it explain many other phenomena.

What really pisses me off is when an atheist writes off a creationist as unsophisticated and illogical because they have faith in God. What an incredibly ignorant, hypocritical thing to say.

Terminology. This is at the crux of the matter.

Many Christians I know claim they do not believe in evolution, mostly, I believe, because of the many cultural implication that go along with it. So in making this statement, they ‘throw out the baby with the bathwater'. The word evolution conjures up all kinds of separate references that shouldn’t define the word, but do.

The word, faith, is the same.

Richard Dawkins, a marketing genius, spares no words in denouncing anyone with faith. He has positioned himself as the protagonist for Darwin’s theory of natural selection and agnostic origins of life. You probably know who he is, that’s why I’m using him as an example.

Mr. Dawkins casts the aforementioned criticisms toward anyone with a faith in a creator, yet he is certain that, in time, science and the triumph of quantitative processes will prove the reality of things not yet known and statistically impossible. Is it a stretch to say that he has faith; that in time what is now unknown will be known? Does he believe that science will explain the unexplainable in much the same way as I believe God will clarify the same things?

Mr. Dawkins would say that all things are explainable and quantifiable, but if asked to explain them now, I would bet his rhetoric would include something smacking of faith in a later revelation.

Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Dawkins is more than welcome to hold whatever view he would like, as is anyone else, but do so with some dignity! I can respect you believing in whomever or whatever you want, but don’t attack my intellect for exercising the same right. Your theory is foiled by the same criticisms you cast at mine.

I do take this personally. Fact.

My beliefs cannot always be explained and quantified. Fact.

Neither can yours.

“Every man alone is sincere. At the entrance of a second person, hypocrisy begins.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

pics of the day

All pictures taken from:

ffffound.com