Hrmph.

Yesterday I was on the worship team at Hillview. Since I switched churches eighteen months ago, had been slow and shy about making myself available until this fall. In late summer two thousand eleven I threw the doors open to the inevitable deluge of involvement, and asked them to plug me in wherever they needed me, on any musical instrument or in any role where I could be of service. Last month I played bass, two weeks ago I led worship, and this past week I was the lone BGV. As a rhythm guitarist by nature, it's very exposing to stand armed only with a mic and my awkward body language. I become very self-aware. I am a seventies Neil Diamond trying in vain not to be corny. What should I do? Smile? Look around? I tend to keep my eyes closed or trained on the music sheet or Jim, the worship leader. Anything else feels unseemly.

Breaking of bread services can be intense, spiritually. The townhall-style sharing time is meant for worship by means of drawing attention to Christ in remembrance and oratory meditation before we all partake of the symbolic bread and "wine." (Since there is a fluctuating AA contingent at church, we don't use actual wine.) We tend to share from our hearts, stripping our convictions bare for the bracing truth of it. I often feel as though I should share something really coherent and inspired otherwise not talk, but inevitably I think of something worth adding, and more often than not, I stand up and speak my piece. Yesterday was a particularly grueling day for me, as I have been arguing a bit with God in recent weeks, and I haven't always taken his side. Taking God's side is my job, and while I was repentant by the time Sunday rolled around, I certainly didn't feel "prayed up" and prepared to share a Spirit-filled, worshipful attitude with the other believers. I hesitated for a long time, not wanting to share out of self, but eventually it became clear to me that it was okay, perhaps even meant to happen. So I stood up, hanging my head a little, and shared about some of my demons - particularly those hovering around the learning disability testing I had Friday. The theme of the conversation had been about the ascension, which is an unusual topic, but for me it was timely. I have thought recently about whether Jesus really could be bodily somewhere in the universe, preserved against suffocation and decay by some kind of untraceable dimensional pocket of livable atmosphere - coordinates unknown - and how scientifically preposterous that sounds. But the scientifically preposterous shouldn't be that astounding to a believer of miracles, particularly considering that I have already seen the logically preposterous happen in lives around me. I shared how I sometimes reason my way into logical corners. The rules of logic must delimit based on the information given, but I forget not to assume the universality of my own sphere of data. How very little information I have, compared to the totality of what can be known! It should be commonplace to me, that quite possible things should seem impossible, as commonplace to me as aliens and time-travel are commonplace to a Doctor Who companion on television.

Several people have since thanked me for sharing that bit about my limits and how much more information God holds. I was surprised. My paradigm says that unless I have been particularly holy this week, God won't be disposed toward using anything I have to say. But that is a false assumption and I should know it by now.

Dan took me to his new pet coffee shop, which is unfortunately right around the corner from CoSo. We talked about his leaving CoSo, and the shop he's going to start. The coffees were overpriced, but not moreso than CoSo. The music was good, and I thought extensively about possibly curating Dan's coming coffee shop as an art director.

I spent the evening trying to understand what to say in a personal statement, not content that the overmasticated shred of prose that I had ready was really what a law school admissions officer would want to read. I made some small progress, but felt very frustrated, and fought a lot of my angers and doubts about the way two thousand eleven had turned out. I went on a two mile run - and it was a good run - to leave it all out there in the cold. But it all followed me into the shower. I may or may not have stood under the hot water with my hands on my face for a long time, before falling asleep praying prayers of frustration on clean sheets.

I Know No Other Stand

I have been distracted somewhat by the beginning of baseball season. There is a romance to the idea of the ballgame, for me. I don't have the same feelings about other major sports such as football, or basketball, or even my own soccer. I also recognize the timelessness of some sporting pastimes such as tennis or golf, but usually saw them as white privilege sports, which is a turnoff for me. But baseball is the old fashioned American Pastime, the iconography of childhood bubble-gum trading cards; it's the province of DiMaggio and the Babe, the same dust stirred by the prodigious cleats of Rollie Fingers and Willie Mays. There is nothing that compares to the tension as a pitcher works all the muscles of his body, and all the finesse in his fingertips, to bend the path of a projectile with pinpoint accuracy through the air around the swinging bat of a formidable opponent. Fine-tuned skill is pitted against fine-tuned skill for the pride of two American towns.

Andre "The Hawk" Dawson! The (erstwhile) Montreal Expos of the 1980's! Looking at this picture makes me feel like I am five years old again, in a good way.

Wednesday 14
Finished my taxes. I can't wait to get a little back this year. But next year I am determined to do them in February.

Thursday 15
After work I had been invited to come spend some time with Asher up in the hills where he was house-sitting for his boss the fire chief. Hot tub plus steaks and beer at a hill-folk fireman's house made it the most blue-collar guy-time I've had in a while, just brother Peter and old pal Asher. I called Ramsey and Jared but neither of them could go. Asher has been living in a bubble up there in the hills, away from everything. I haven't seen him much since the days we all used to go to college Bible study, perhaps three years ago now. After his breakup he just sorta receded into the hills and doesn't often drive down into town. It has been bad for his redneck complex, but he's still a man of solid character, and a trustworthy friend, which both make him good company.

Friday 16
Ashley (friend and band vocalist), called to let me know she couldn't go with the band to the college ministry Summit this year. Baby, husband, etc. That's a bit of a blow to Martha and the Chores, but we'll manage fine. It was doubtless the right choice. She'll still be singing with us in the wedding. The question raised in that conversation was whether the ever-improving MATC should begin to work more like a real band a less like a once- or twice-annual worship project. We agreed that nearly everyone in the band seems to be on-board for a higher commitment level. Friday night study was excellent conversation on the topic of godliness, in the context of 1 Timothy 4, devolving into a review of the basic gospel message. Really a refreshing time.

Saturday 17
Sunny and warm are new favorites of mine. Trent and I met Daniel Lee at the high school and played pick-up basketball. It was luxuriously healthy to get the exercise without the "hamster wheel" feeling of the rainy day gym. I got a light sunburn, of which I was proud. Family time at my parents' house in the evening to watch an old 1970's sermon by Nicky Cruz.

Sunday 18
Church was nice. The sermon was by the energetic young dad from Texas, Brady, who will be the Summit guest speaker this year. He asked us all to stand and sing my favorite hymn, Immanuel's Land, at the end of the sermon (lyrics at the conclusion of this post). Went home again and chatted with mom over PB&J. I love seeing (our yellow lab) Jude when I go home, and looking at the Cecil Brunner and blackberries intertwining in the sun. Band meeting and practice was more organized than usual, and went well. We've also, to the delight of all, been asked to add "When I'm 64" to the wedding song-list. That made my weekend.

Monday 19
Doctor check-up in the morning. He said I should keep receiving physical therapy a bit longer, and gave me a little immune system advice. Spent part of the day working and part of the day catching up on schoolwork. It's nice when the boss is out of town because I can work whatever hours I want. My suspicions were confirmed, upon looking over the grades; it doesn't appear I am on an "A" pace. Unacceptable! :/

Tuesday 20
Made an appointment with a potential client. Am happy with the prospect.

Wednesday 21
Physical therapy in the morning, work, then class in the afternoon. I discussed MEChA with one of my classmates. I had expressed some interest in attending MEChA meetings with some of my Chicano friends from SJSU, not so much because I agree with the policy positions of the group (in fact I quite disagree with most of their tact and ideology), but because I sympathize with some of their concerns and want to reach out to the Latin community in general when I can. I don't know if I'll go, however. I am not sure people in that group are about anything more than ethnic pride and Progressive politics, both of which I believe to be very insidious and harmful. In the evening Trent and I drove downtown to the Mini Gourmet, and met Peter, Phi, and DMV there, and they had brought an old acquaintance along in Bekka Bjorke. It was a fun evening, though sometimes the contrast of open-hearted Christians on one side of the table, against the aimless foulness of the utterly worldly on the other, is somewhat awkward. I wish I could get rid of their perception of my/our self-righteousness (in that I believe in truth and defend it) and just see the Jesus I see.

{ end }

Immanuel's Land

O Christ, He is the fountain, The deep, deep well of love,

The streams on earth I've tasted, More deep I'll drink above,

There to an ocean fullness, His mercy doth expand,

And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel's land.

With mercy and with judgment My web of time He wove,

And aye the dews of sorrow were lustred with His love,

I'll bless the hand that guided, I'll bless the heart that planned,

When throned where glory dwelleth, in Immanuel's land.

O! I am my Beloved’s And my Beloved’s mine!

He brings a poor vile sinner Into His “house of wine.”

I stand upon His merit, I know no other stand,

Not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

The Bride eyes not her garments, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;

I will not gaze at glory but on my King of Grace.

Not at the crown He giveth, But on His pierced hand;

The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.

De, [LAT. "down from"] (also 4th Letter of the Spa. Alphabet) | Re'ah [HEB. "companion"]

FOREWORD. I bought a plane ticket to Atlanta last week. I bought a plane ticket back home this week. From where? Virgina.


De

I also registered for Spanish 5 online. I pulled up my transcript, and got a shock. Apparently, I was misled in thinking I had gotten a B+ in the class. That must have been my grade on the final, because my transcript says I have a D in Spanish 4. No wonder, transferring from Spanish 2, which I took in 2003. Gah. De priore.

Re'ah

But the big deal is the following. Today I will write this as an altar to the faithfulness of God. I will name it Re'ah, which means "close companion," or "a good friend." May I not forget how, following the Lord, I finally surrendered my right to bring my friends with me, and consented to leave them behind (to "hate" them, as Jesus said) if He so requires. This week in Sam, and in Trent, and in Joel, and in Joelle, and in Kenneth, and in Alissa, and in others, I am encouraged that, on the contrary, the Lord will be faithful to bring His own alongside Him, and I need not strive and struggle for them, nor will He withhold the fellowship that heartens me in my faith. We serve a God who is characterized by lovingkindness, and he is faithful and just. To Him be glory, majesty, dominion and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.

Aggressive Amusement

Wednesday night, Brett, Brianna, Matt, Peter, and Bri's friend (and now our friend) Brittany piled into a minivan and made our way to L.A. At around 1 am we arrived and crashed at our Hotel.

Thursday, Friday, and yesterday we ground-pounded all over Disneyland and the affiliated California Adventure theme park. Brett and his sister Bri are very aggressive theme-park goers, who knew the park and its nuances well, and liked to start early and end late. We tried to keep up with them, and with the exception of sleeping in on Saturday, we paced with them well. Turns out it's better to not plan the day ahead of time, but just as the day goes, an hour or so ahead and no more. Otherwise, unpredictable dynamics (weather, closed rides, crowds who had the same idea) can cause high stress levels. Lesson learned (not the hard way): amusement is best had when laid-back. In other words, Disneyland was awesome. Ariel the mermaid flirted with me, and my brother had a fun date with the girl from the corndog stand. It was cute. Last night a plumber had left an unpleasantly unfinished mess in our hotel room. So this morning we were given a refund at checkout, which in the end was quite a welcome turn of events.

Today we saw Pirates of the Caribbean, Dead Man's Chest at the El Capitan Theatre in Hollywood, and wandered the walk of stars afterwards. It was lovely, as was the drive home on hwy 5. Truly a delightful, sunny day, with blue skies and golden, waving hills. God knows when we want some simple happiness, and He doesn't deny it, may He be praised.

Chewing the Homework Cud

I really don't like checking my email in the community college library. Even if it is for school. It's just sortof... naked. What makes it worse is I forgot to email myself my re-done Spanish 4 assignment. And I have 15 minutes till class. So I cannot re-chew this stuff again right now. I am an educational cow. I can't chew and swallow just once. I have to do it a couple times.

Last night I went up to the east bay. San Leandro, to be precise. I went up to see my friends from Summit this year and last year. Since they are cool guys, it was a good time. I also found out their church, Fairhaven Bible Chapel, has their breaking of bread service every Sunday night instead of Sunday morning. They teasingly say they're more correct since it's the Lord's "Supper." The perk was, one Sunday, two BOB services. And the Spirit was there, so it was good. Go read Psalm 116-118, Revelation 19:7-10, and Luke 22:14-20. If you wanna know what I got out of all that, ask me later.

Additional note: Baker's Square's "4 Alarm Burger" seems tame till it hits your stomach. The heat was mild, but the indigestion was horrible.