It's nearly 6:00 in the morning and I am tossing around in bed. My body reeks of garlic from the birthday feast for my friend, Tree, at The Stinky Rose last night. My intestines twist and turn in knots, processing the sheer quantity of vampire repellant, while my mind replays a conversation from the dinner table.
As tends to be the standard when talking to stunt people—at least in my experience—the conversation steered towards the sexual. A question or comment was thrown in my direction from my friend, Steve, and I responded with a chuckle and holding up my hand to draw attention to the ring on my middle finger.
"I'm a virgin, dude." I stated.
"Are you really?" he asked, shaking his head. A couple of months ago, he was the same person who told me a couple of sexual jokes and I was unable to respond in kind.
"Yes, I am."
"What are you waiting for?" he asked next. "The right one?"
I could hear the ridicule and scorn in his voice and I felt like sinking in my chair.
"Meh," came my response as I shrugged my shoulders and withdrew my prideful posture. I knew my conflicted desires, how part of me wanted to wait for my future wife—the one who has been praying for me all of these years—and the other part of me wants to jump in the sack with the first woman who will let me.
I can't explain why this topic can be something that I both hold up high, but also sweep under the rug at the same time. It makes me feel duplicious, like I'm wearing the same type of mask that I resented my father for growing up. He was quite adept at acting one way around us and another way at church and I strive to simply be authenticate no matter where I go.
Why is it, then, that I can feel both pride and shame over the same fact? Is it because of the conflicted nature of my intention and desires? Or is it because society says that I'm an outcast for saving myself for one special woman? Satan likes to tempt me by saying it's a wasted effort because my wife won't be waiting for me—so why wait for her?
I hope that I can stop feeling shameful over this rare virtue. And I hope that I can continue to endure this strenuous race until God finally brings that marvelous woman into my life. And I hope above all other hopes that I can continue to be authentic; to serve as a shining example of Christ that not everyone in this world has to walk a dark path, despite their natural desires and tendencies. And maybe, just maybe, God will reward me for waiting and persevering by giving me the desires of my heart and providing me with a love that will make every day of waiting worth it.
Blogged from my iPhone 3G.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
The City Called Life...
Allow me to introduce you to the city called Life:
Life is very similar to any other major American suburban city. It has a population of 50,000 and contains hospitals, banks, police stations and supermarkets. Fences line the houses and trees line the boulevards. Minor roads intersect with major streets and the lights turn on when the sun goes down.
In Life, there are two major traffic arteries: Emotional Avenue and Spiritual Parkway. Both streets serve the population and conjoin in the town square. Since it is such a busy corner, residents must take care to walk on the sidewalk and not step into traffic. Caution must even be used when crossing the street as vehicles have been known to ignore the lights and run over pedestrians.
And that is what happened to me yesterday. As I was crossing between the two curbs, a large truck came barreling down the street, running the light striking me with such an immense force that I was knocked off of my feet and sent tumbling through the air.
I was sprawled on my back by the side of the street. My body was twisted and bruised, but I was stunned and confused. The truck had come out of nowhere and hadn't cared to stop or even slow down.
Crying out in pain, I looked up towards Heaven. I reached out, as if to ask for a hand up, but instead clenched my fist and shook it at God. I was only at this intersection because of him in the first place and now he allowed someone's reckless driving to cause me harm.
I sat up as I nursed my injuries. Clutching my left arm, I looked upwards once more, this time with tears in my eyes. The walk here had been tiring enough and now it all felt vain. I slowly stood as not even a bystander stopped to offer aid. No one had even noticed the incident, let alone care enough to step out of their mundane life for another.
And so I brushed off my clothes, grabbed my throbbing arm, lowered my gaze from God, and walked slowly down Emotional Avenue with tears in my eyes through this city called Life.
Blogged from my iPhone 3G
Life is very similar to any other major American suburban city. It has a population of 50,000 and contains hospitals, banks, police stations and supermarkets. Fences line the houses and trees line the boulevards. Minor roads intersect with major streets and the lights turn on when the sun goes down.
In Life, there are two major traffic arteries: Emotional Avenue and Spiritual Parkway. Both streets serve the population and conjoin in the town square. Since it is such a busy corner, residents must take care to walk on the sidewalk and not step into traffic. Caution must even be used when crossing the street as vehicles have been known to ignore the lights and run over pedestrians.
And that is what happened to me yesterday. As I was crossing between the two curbs, a large truck came barreling down the street, running the light striking me with such an immense force that I was knocked off of my feet and sent tumbling through the air.
I was sprawled on my back by the side of the street. My body was twisted and bruised, but I was stunned and confused. The truck had come out of nowhere and hadn't cared to stop or even slow down.
Crying out in pain, I looked up towards Heaven. I reached out, as if to ask for a hand up, but instead clenched my fist and shook it at God. I was only at this intersection because of him in the first place and now he allowed someone's reckless driving to cause me harm.
I sat up as I nursed my injuries. Clutching my left arm, I looked upwards once more, this time with tears in my eyes. The walk here had been tiring enough and now it all felt vain. I slowly stood as not even a bystander stopped to offer aid. No one had even noticed the incident, let alone care enough to step out of their mundane life for another.
And so I brushed off my clothes, grabbed my throbbing arm, lowered my gaze from God, and walked slowly down Emotional Avenue with tears in my eyes through this city called Life.
Blogged from my iPhone 3G
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Difficult Decisions...
Some decisions are relatively easy. They can still be big decisions, but you know that they are the right ones to make. God confirms them and blesses you as you step onto that path and walk the journey he has placed in front of you.
Moving to Los Angeles—that was a big, but easy decision. I knew that the timing was right and God helped put all of the pieces together. The decision was then confirmed after I moved when the creative floodgates opened wide—my development slate went from two or three projects to seventeen! As I looked back, I also realized that I had no awkward just-moved-to-new-city transition. I came here with life already in place.
And while some decisions are easy, others can be substantially harder. You may still know that they are the right choices and turning points in life, but you might not be positive that you are at that point yet or something might be holding you back—likely finances. My jump from the 9-5 workplace to freelance last year was like this. It was scary and the first few months were difficult, but it was the right choice that I had to make to move ahead in my journey.
Right now, I'm standing on the edge of an amazing precipice. Every time I pitch my concepts to someone, they are interested in hearing more. People think that I have some great ideas and, sooner or later, I'll get a chance to pitch them to people with power and money and I will finally have broken through the wall and be a full-fledged working producer. And yet, something is holding me back: work. The same freelance work that feeds me, puts gas in my car, and enabled me to move to Los Angeles is now keeping me so busy, that I am unable to do the legwork on my projects that I need in order to secure those important meetings with the powerful people. Bibles need to be written, outlines need to be finalized, characters need to be fleshed out. And I can't do that when I'm coding websites or sitting in a client's office (no matter how much that position may be part of God's plan).
What I really need to do is cut out my freelance website work and focus on my producing. I need to get an office and begin hyper-focusing on what is most important. What's holding me back is that my web clients are paying my bills—and I have a lot of them! Even without rent, there are phone bills, car bills, insurance bills, credit card bills... and I rely on every single dollar every single month that flows through those internet-powered pipelines. I can't afford to stop working freelance, yet I must. In order to move forward, I have to do it. And that's what makes this a very, very difficult decision.
Moving to Los Angeles—that was a big, but easy decision. I knew that the timing was right and God helped put all of the pieces together. The decision was then confirmed after I moved when the creative floodgates opened wide—my development slate went from two or three projects to seventeen! As I looked back, I also realized that I had no awkward just-moved-to-new-city transition. I came here with life already in place.
And while some decisions are easy, others can be substantially harder. You may still know that they are the right choices and turning points in life, but you might not be positive that you are at that point yet or something might be holding you back—likely finances. My jump from the 9-5 workplace to freelance last year was like this. It was scary and the first few months were difficult, but it was the right choice that I had to make to move ahead in my journey.
Right now, I'm standing on the edge of an amazing precipice. Every time I pitch my concepts to someone, they are interested in hearing more. People think that I have some great ideas and, sooner or later, I'll get a chance to pitch them to people with power and money and I will finally have broken through the wall and be a full-fledged working producer. And yet, something is holding me back: work. The same freelance work that feeds me, puts gas in my car, and enabled me to move to Los Angeles is now keeping me so busy, that I am unable to do the legwork on my projects that I need in order to secure those important meetings with the powerful people. Bibles need to be written, outlines need to be finalized, characters need to be fleshed out. And I can't do that when I'm coding websites or sitting in a client's office (no matter how much that position may be part of God's plan).
What I really need to do is cut out my freelance website work and focus on my producing. I need to get an office and begin hyper-focusing on what is most important. What's holding me back is that my web clients are paying my bills—and I have a lot of them! Even without rent, there are phone bills, car bills, insurance bills, credit card bills... and I rely on every single dollar every single month that flows through those internet-powered pipelines. I can't afford to stop working freelance, yet I must. In order to move forward, I have to do it. And that's what makes this a very, very difficult decision.
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