But now I want to blog again. I miss having somewhere to post my random thoughts and share my story.

I realized the other day, rather I have been realizing lately, that I want to be about 20 different things when I grow up. One of those is a writer. I want to be a good one. To do that, I need to practice. A lot.

I can’t promise that I’m going to be regular in my posting, but I’m going to try.

That’s all for now.

1. I have this constant tension in my head about blogging, and now social media in general. I get way too swept up in how many people read my blog, follow me on twitter, or like my status on Facebook. I hate that it has this much of an effect on me. I’m somewhere between deleting my blog and Facebook (I would never get rid of twitter) or doing this for real like. If history’s any indicator, I’ll just keep randomly blogging.

2. I know this is just me being really really weird, but have you ever wondered why we sit on the toilet the way we do? I thought long and hard about this in class the other day. I mean if you were an alien needing to use the rest room, do you think you would automatically sit on it facing out? So anyways…

3. I’m getting my tax refund soon. I need some advice.
a) What is a good external hard drive (mac compatible)? What size do I need if I just want to back up my music library and some school files?
b) What is a good investment? It wouldn’t be a lot of dough. But I need to start acting wisely with my money. A regular savings account? A CD? Roth IRA? That’s pretty much all I remember from any finance classes I’ve had. I was thinking about doing a CD for maybe $500, if I could get the money together. Will banks do a CD for that amount? If so, is that a good idea?

4. It looks like my go to drink for this summer will be the Iced Carmel Macchiato (or Iced Coffee with Carmel and Vanilla in real barista talk). I figured out how to make them at home too, so I won’t be dipping in the aforementioned investments to get my fix.

5. Tomorrow, 1/4 of my Ethiopia team will reunite. It will be glorious. I am sure by the end of the day I will regret deciding not to go back this summer (oh yeah, I decided not to go to Ethiopia this summer).

6. I’m not running in the half marathon like I planned either. Looks like I’ll probably have to get foot surgery before I can do anything like that. Also, I had a toe situation. It was gross, and I’ll leave it at that.

-I can’t stop listening to this song by Florence + the Machine.  I’ve had the cd for awhile and never really noticed this song.  But it crept up on me sometime in the last week or so.

-I’m currently praying about Ethiopia Part 2: the month long edition*.  I’m still unsure about it though.  I’m constantly thinking about where I’m going next and not being where I am.  Maybe, I should just be in White House for little while, ya know? Also, fundraising.

-I love the internet.  I love stupid things.  I love when the internet brings stupid things my way.  Enter Tom Hanks is a Lot of Animals. Stupid genius.  My favorite is the pony. Page 6.

-School is going freakishly well this semester.  I’m almost to Spring Break and I haven’t had a quarter life crisis even once.  I’m thinking it’s mostly because my earliest class begins at 11:20.

-My eyes are getting so bad.  The other day I couldn’t see the board from my seat**.  Also, sometimes when I drive at night I see things that aren’t there.  Just small things like trash bags, not dead people or anything.  But still, that’s not a good sign.

-The whole bad eyes thing brings me to my next point: warbyparker.com.  They give a pair of glasses away to someone in need for every pair you buy.  Not to mention every set of frames comes with lenses for just $95. And the cherry on top is that they are actually cool.

-You can find more places like warbyparker here. You know being a conscious consumer and all.

-Last but not least, I watched all 3 seasons of Arrested Development over the last 2 weeks***. I would like to apologize in advance for the excessive quoting .

*That’s just a working title.
**The teacher did use a red marker. And the red marker is always the hardest to see.
***AGAIN.

It made me sick.  I have so. much. stuff.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to get rid of things I don’t wear.  I started a pile and tonight I finished the process. By the time I was done exorcising my closet, I had 2 trash bags full of clothing.  About 50 articles of clothing probably, maybe more.  You would think that’d leave some extra space in my closet and dresser, but you can’t even tell anything is missing.

I feel ridiculous. Why do I have so much stuff?  How many tshirts do I need?  How many blue hoodies can one guy really own?

I’m too ashamed to post a picture of my closet busting at the seams.  I thought about cataloguing everything I kept, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.  I’m sure it would read something like 50 tshirts, 5 pairs of jeans, 6 pairs of khakis, etc.

I know that I need clothes.  I know that it’s not a bad thing to have different types of attire for different occasions and maybe even a couple of spares.  But I’m living in excess.

I’m living in excess while people don’t have a change of clothes.  People I’ve met.  People I said would change the way I live. People that live 5 miles from me.

Sometimes I can’t stand this place.  I remember one time talking to a friend about fasting.  She really felt a burden for this friend and decided she needed to make sacrifices and pray.  So she started praying an hour a day and fasted from shopping for a certain amount of months.

I don’t want to sound like a cynic here, but what kind of a culture do we live in where someone not buying things they don’t need is a sacrifice? That does sound cynical.  I don’t think her heart was in the wrong place, but do you at least get where I’m coming from?

Why do I have so much?  Why do people better than me starve to death so that their children have something to eat?  I don’t get it.

What do I do?  What is just enough?  What is too much?  Where is the balance?

Here is the original story.  You should be able to see my embellishments pretty easily.

“Kaldi and the Dancing Goats”

Centuries ago, there were two brothers who lived in the Ethiopian country side.

Kaldi, the oldest, was his parent’s pride and joy.  He was strong, smart, ambitious, and wildly handsome.

Then there was Samson, the baby.  He wasn’t loved, as much as he was tolerated by his parents.  If Kaldi got all of the good traits from his parents, Samson got the worst.  He was short, clumsy, homely, and perhaps worst of all he suffered from narcolepsy.

Although the boys were not loved equally by their parents, they grew to be best friends. Kaldi was Samson’s hero, and Samson was Kaldi’s loyal side kick.  The pair grew- Kaldi tall and strong, Samson–wide and more clumsy.

When it came time for the boys to choose a path for their lives, the parents pushed  Kaldi toward life in the Monastery.  He was everything a good monk should be–loved by everyone, strong, and smart. Samson, on the other hand, they shooed toward the family business–goats.

However, the boys had dreams of their own.  One of the largest goat herd in Ethiopia, and the other of a simple place along the straight and narrow.  So Kaldi took over the herd in hopes of fortune, and Samson began long hours of prayer, fasting and silence.

But before the brothers parted ways, they vowed to meet once a month halfway between the monastery on the mountaintop and the sweeping meadows in the country side below.

As time went on, their lives continued down the expected path.  Kaldi’s herd grew larger and larger every day. And Samson, well he did his best, but as it turns out life as a monk–praying, fasting and being quiet–was every narcoleptic’s night mare.  He was always in trouble the Reverend Father and had no gained any clout since he first crossed the threshold of the monastery 10 years before.

But as it were, life, or maybe God, finally started answering Samson’s prayers:

“Dear Heavenly Father,
Please help me to be a better snooooooorrrrrrrr….”

On that very morning, Kaldi took his droves of goats to a new field to roam.  This field was covered in trees with strange red berries.  So Kaldi’s goats ate the berries because goats will really eat just about anything.  But what happened next Kaldi did not expect.  The goats started dancing.  The goats ran in circles.  The goats “maaaaaa”ed for hours on end.

“What is happening?” Kaldi thought to himself.  “It must be those berries.”  So he tried a few.  The berries were sweet, but they didn’t taste different from the other berries he had tried.  But then… Then he felt a surge of energy.  He felt like dancing.  He let out a loud “MAAAAAA”.   Kaldi had to much early to think. All he could do was dance. And so Kaldi and his goats stayed in the field and danced.

When he came off of his berry infused high, Kaldi new he had to tell his brother about this magical fruit.  It could cure Samson of his lifelong napping addiction, as their mother put it.

So Kaldi gathered up a handful of berries and carried them with him to the brothers’ next meeting half way up the mountain.

Samson greated his brother with a sad face, “Brother, I will never be a good monk.  The Revered Father has put me on a solid food fast.  He says overeating is the reason for my sleeping problems– all of those carbs. He will only let me drink boiling water.”

Kaldi was not listening.  He said, “Brother I have a magic berry.  It will give you energy.  It will make you dance.  It will keep you up all night and day.  Just eat a couple at a time, and you will never fall asleep again.”

Kaldi then shoved the berries in Samson’s hand and ran down the hill.

Samson trudged back to his little room in the monastery fighting the temptation to eat the berries.  He trusted his brother, but he knew he could not disobey the Revered Father.  Not knowing what to do with his magical gift, he placed the berries on the end of his desk as he studied the Word that night.

He settled into his chair and began to read his favorite scripture.

“The Lord is my Shepherd…”

“Yes, yes, that’s true he thought.”

“I shall not want,” he read.

“To be truthful, I’d like some roasted goat and a loaf of bread right about now,” he grumbled.

“He leadeth me beside….”

And he was out without any warning.  His head fell forward on the scriptures and knocked the berries right off the table.  Right off the table and into the fire.

With in minutes, Samson woke to the pleasing aroma of the berries roasting in the fire.  At first he did not know what it was, but then, as he looked around Samson realized the berries were missing.  They must have fallen into the hearth when he faceplanted on the table.

So he scooped them out one by one.  Each berry was very brittle.  He admired them, now dark purple almost black, but kept smashing them in his chubby, clumsy fingers.  And soon he had a fine powder in his hand.

He thought, “What a strange thing for berries to do.” And then he went to take a swig of his boiling water.  That’s when it hit him.  What if…

“Berries aren’t really berried if they are powder,” he thought, “and if I mix them with the water, I won’t be eating solid food…”

So that’s just what he did.  Samson took the fine black powder from the berries and placed it in his boiling water.  Then he drank every drop.

With in a minutes he had more energy then he’d felt in his whole life.  His legs began to twitch a little jig.  His mouth opened before he knew what he was doing and let out a big “MAAAAAAA”.  The ground berry mixture left him dancing and “MAAAA”ing the night away.

From that day on, he never had a problem with falling asleep at the wrong time again.  Instead he was able to study, pray, and sit in silence like all the other monks.  He was so good at being a monk, in fact, Samson eventually he did find his place on the straight and narrow.  That place was the Right Reverend Father Samson, the most admired Father in Ethiopian history.

And what about Kaldi you ask?  Well, he knew the value of those berries, so he sold his best goats, and bought that field with the strange red berries.  The strange red berries are what bring us coffee today.  And because of these strange red coffee berries, Kaldi became the richest man in all of the land.

So the boys parents got just what they wanted–a beloved monk and someone to take care of the family business.

That’s nice and all, but I just realized I was supposed to post last Saturday, the week before we read the chapters. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense. Sorry about that guys. I’m a little slow. I offer my condolences. Here is my post on Acts 18-21, nonetheless.

The Bible is full of amazing stories and people. There are countless heroes and even more unbelievable narratives. It all sounds so interesting and cool, but to be honest most of the time I just feel removed from it.

Does my faith really depend on Noah building an ark? Not really. Did a bright light knocking Paul off his donkey change my day today? Uh…

I’m not saying these things didn’t happen. I’m not saying I think the Bible is lying.

It’s just that nowadays fantastic stories are a dime a dozen. Did Harry Potter defeat Voldemort? He did in a book I read. And can my life go on if I don’t know what happens between that vampire guy and the pale chick. Praise the Lord, it does.

Hopefully, you see what I’m driving at. It’s easy to place things I read in the Bible in the same basket that I put things I read for entertainment. It’s a cool story and maybe it has a moral to think about, but what does that have to do with my faith?

But if I’m going to believe in God and trust that the Bible is His inspired scripture than I can’t bring the same mindset that I brought to the Hunger Games (which you should read). The words that I’m reading are from the one and only Star Breathing God. That should count for something right?

Sorry for that diatribe.

All of that is to say, I’ve read the account of Paul’s ministries quite a few times. So many that it doesn’t really mean much more than, “Paul went to this place. They tried to kill him. He lived anyway. Repeat.” So as I was reading through these chapters, every few verses I would tell myself, “Paul was a real guy. He had fingers. He wore clothes. He scratched itches and had to trim his finger nails, and he actually did all of the stuff you are reading about too.”

It changed my reading. It was still a lot of preaching, chasing, and escaping, but I feel like I was able to see Paul a little clearer. I saw his passion. He was relentless. His only love was the gospel and giving it to anyone who would hear it. So much so that it didn’t stop him when he realized that soon all of his work would be thwarted by wolves in sheep’s clothing. Paul was not scared to go to his certain death (apparently I really like Acts 20, sue me). Even when God sent a prophecy his way warning what awaited him.

The man knew his calling, lived in his calling, and relied on nothing more than the Spirit to get him where he needed to go. And He was a real man. He had hair and legs, and skinned his knees and belched from time to time. To me that makes it even more amazing. He’s not some alien-robot-religious-contraption from 3rd Heaven like I often think of people in the Bible. He was just a guy born in Tarsus. But he was God’s tool because he submitted and committed himself to God’s calling.

So I have 2 questions for you:

What are some challenges you face when reading the Word?

How committed to are you to your calling? Or just any thoughts/feelings/complaints about this whole calling business in general.

I’ve found some gems via Celebrity Playlist over the years.  For instance, Liz Phair introduced me to my favorite Stevie Wonder song “Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing”.    Also, Anna Paquin gave me Iron and Wine’s version of “Such Great Heights”.  These are two great songs that I would have never found if it weren’t for Celebrity Playlists.

I’m telling you all of this to get you ready for Travis’ (not a) Celebrity Playlist.  I made this specific playlist for a friend about 2 weeks ago and haven’t stop listening to it since.

Put on you seat belts friends.  I’m about to take you on a (random yet glorious) ride.  Here’s the playlist and my comments below.  Check them out.  Or else.

1. “Baby I’m Yours (feat. Irfane)” by BreakBot- Dave Barnes introduced me to this song.  Well, not personally, but in his video where he dances to it while dressed like Santa.  I’m not sure what it is, but it makes me want to dance.  Which I don’t really do, so instead I listen to these first few songs while I run.

2. “The Uncomfortable Truth” by Nneka- Dave (not Barnes), my Spring 2k10 cotern at Mocha Club, introduced me to Nneka.  We even went to her show.  She reminds me a lot of Lauryn Hill, and has a lot of passion for bringing awareness to Africa.  Both are good things in my book.

3. “Forget You” by Cee Lo Green- I tried not to like this song because the other variation used the f-word instead of “forget”.  I failed.  It’s so dang catchy. Also, it has some other expletives that aren’t really used, but are not really covered up. So if little ones are present or you don’t want to hear this yourself, just move right along.

4. “Heartbeat” by Nneeka- It’s different than pretty much anything I’ve heard in a while.  The 1st song I ever heard by her.

5. “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars- So.dang.catchy.

6. “My Life” by Robin Thicke- It’s from the Despicable Me Soundtrack.  Don’t judge, Pharrell put that whole thing together. I’ve still got street cred.  Anyway, this song reminds me of Michael Jackson a la “P.Y.T.” (which just so happens to be my favorite MJ song).  It sounds like life at it’s best–warm, happy, soulful.

7. “Tik Tok” by Ke$sha- Here’s the thing, my sister bought this song using my computer.  I thought about deleting it, but figured it might come in handy someday.  When I was making this playlist, I needed a filler song.  Enter Ke$ha.  I don’t actually like this song.  But sometimes it comes on when I’m running, and makes me mad.  And that makes me run more.

8. “Prettiest Girls” by Pharrell- Another Despicable Me song. Pharrell knows what he’s doing.

9. “I Hope This Gets to You” by The Daylights- The awesome video introduced me to this song.  The video was cool, but I loved the song.  The 2nd verse is my favorite part.

10. “Prisoner (Live from Charleston, SC 4/17/10) by Needtobreathe- One of my favorite bands.  They put on a killer show.

11. “So This is Goodbye (Pink Ganter Remix)” by William Fitzsimmons- I bought this song on accident, but ended up liking how the techno back beat mixed with Fitzsimmons whisper like singing.

12. “Quickfix” by The Daylights- Sometimes songs about breaking up and the ugliness of relationships can be beautiful.  Also, I like how simple it is.

13. “Better Than Love” by Griffin House- He is from Nashville and indie, so I automatically like him. Makes simple Singer/songwriter stuff with a tinge of country.  I hope to live this song someday.

14. “I See You” by Help-Portrait- If you don’t know what Help-Portrait is, you need to check it out.  This song is sung by Andy Davis. Another Nashville indie artist that I’ve enjoyed listening to for a couple of years.  Also, you can download this song for free at noisetrade.

15. “Not fire, not Ice” by Ben Harper- This was my sister’s wedding song, and makes up for her buying Ke$ha.

16. “Weapons” by The Daylights- Scary how well this song describes me.

17. “If You Would Come Back Home” by William Fitzsimmons- There’s a lot of pain and regret in this song, and I like it.  Probably my favorite song by the guy.

18. “In My Veins (feat. Erin McCarley)” by Andrew Belle- Another Nashville indie.  A good song, but there are a few I like more on his cd The Ladder.

19. “Warwick Avenue” by Duffy- This is random even for me. It comes on at work all of the time, and I like it for whatever reason.  Possibly because she refers to the subway as the tube at one point.

20. “I Kissed A Girl” by William Fitzsimmons- It makes me happy that he covered Katy Perry’s song.  Also, I don’t have a whole lot of hopes or dreams for my wedding, but I really hope I can persuade my bride to have this version played after we kiss at the alter.

21. “Don’t Really Know Me” by Snowden- This is just a random song I got from noisetrade.  I like it though.

It’s actually a bit scary. It’s so empty, and I have to fill all of it with life. I have to find the meaning in each day. I have to make every second count. I have to live every moment like it’s my last. At least that’s what all of those New Years’ cliches lead me to believe.

It’s not that I don’t want those things. It’s that the whole thing is a bit daunting. I’ll only get one 2011. What am I going to do with it?

Now would be the time when I make my list, my resolutions, my plans. But I’ve grown so tired of my plans not panning out. I change. Circumstances change. Everything usually ends in disappointment.

So my only New Years resolution is to go with the flow. Loosen my grip on life. Let it take me where it will. And all of that other hippie mumbo jumbo.

I guess my only real choice is to take it one day at a time [so cheesy].

I’m doing my best not to be a Scrooge this season, but I’m just not into it. I blame most of it on working in retail. We’ve been seeing Christmas decorations since early September. Then there’s the music. 12 songs. 100 different versions. And don’t even get me started on the “Keep Christ in Christmas” people who don’t seem to think it’s as important to keep Christ in Christian.

Anyway, this post is not about why I hate the holidays. It’s my resolve to look past all of this and really celebrate. And I know the reason we observe December 25 as Jesus’ birth is because the past pagan traditions, but that’s not going to stop me either. I will remember the day my Savior was born. I will not let all the holiday hype make me forget how important that day is for me.

I wish we would celebrate it differently. Just for one year. I wish my family could celebrate it like the real birth of a baby. There is nothing better. I remember the birth of my nephews and niece. Jackson’s birth, my first nephew or niece, was especially exciting.

I remember finding out my sister, Heather, was pregnant and being almost beside myself with excitement. We were all sworn to secrecy, but that very evening at church, I told anyone who would listen–I was going to be an uncle! The excitement only multiplied as the months went by. Heather’s belly grew. We found out it would be a boy; they would name him Jackson. Finally it came time or so Heather thought. The whole family went to the hospital, but an hour later we were sent back home because it was nothing but Braxton-Hicks contractions. But a few days later, the day did come. Sometime in the afternoon, a sweet little baby boy was born, and my family was on him like teenage girls on Justin Bieber. We stared in awe. We sang to him. We hugged each other and cried because we couldn’t believe we actually touched such a precious little thing. We took pictures and showed every person we saw for the next week or two.

Jackson has been a blessing to my family, but his birth is nothing compared to that of Christ. I wish just once I could celebrate like it deserves. I’m tired of every year being nothing more than fighting the crowds to buy some stuff and 15 minutes of unwrapping gifts.

I wish I could get a call from Joseph telling me that Mary thinks it’s time. 


I wish I could sit in the next room on the most uncomfortable chairs known to man and wait for baby Jesus to be born.

I wish I could get in an argument with the 3 wise men because we’ve been in the same 10×10 room for far too long, and now if feels like Mary is just trying to take her time.

I wish I could feel that rush of excitement when a nurse comes in the room and tell us that the baby is born and Mom is doing fine.

I wish I could walk in the room and find Mary and Joseph gazing on that baby with so much love and disbelief it almost knocks me over.

I wish I could hold that baby, my Savior, just once and truly realize what his tiny hands and feet really mean.

So instead of giving into cynicism this Christmas, I will anticipate. If you see me on Christmas Eve and it looks like I’m in my own little world, it’s because I’ll be pretending Joseph just called and Mary’s contractions are getting closer together. Almost time to head to the hospital.

Although, I may be a little less hopeful now, but we’ll just blame that on Finals week.

Thursday, August 17, 2010 2:05 pm

These last few days I’ve felt like I’m in no man’s land. I’ve been off work, but I haven’t had anything to do. I hate it. I’m sick of just looking for something to entertain me.

It’s hard to know anything after this trip. My life seems so pointless in so many ways. The big picture is there, but the details are no where to be found. The small things in life speak to quenching my selfish thirsts and wants.

I don’t know how much of my life is supposed to be pregnant with meaning and purpose. Expecting every second to be brimming with world changing actions might be a little unfair. But in contrast, laying around the house for 48 hours because I’m not exactly sure what I should be doing feels a little contrary to plan.

I don’t know what my purpose is, especially now. There are so many people hurting in the world, and there are so many people unwilling to do anything about it. I’ve met some of the hurting. I ate dinner with them. I heard their stories. I laughed with them. I wrapped them in the most loving embrace possible. And then I left. I can’t wrap my brain around it.

I know there are people hurting here. I know that they need to be ministered to as well, but why can’t all the wet blankets help them?

I’ve really been having a hard time seeing how it’s all going to come together–the kingdom, the church, my life, all of it. It seems so desperate. There is so much pain, suffering, and death in this world. Jesus, your Gospel has to be true. God you have to be real. Otherwise there is no way this world is going to make it.

God, we need you. This place is messed up and the more we try to fix it, the worse it gets.

What’s my place in all of this? I can’t imagine what the next couple of years look like. I don’t have a plan. Lord, take my life. Take it all. Make of it what you can. Light my path. Help me to trust you more. Create in me the life you desire. I want to be yours.