I had a dream my best friend was rollerblading in Home Depot. But it wasn't too weird because his dad worked at Lowe's. So I joined him; only with roller skates. I was really good at it. Then we joined in the skate party in the parking lot.
I woke up missing my best friend.
We met in diapers. Though I don't really remember that part. My first memory is after we graduated from babyhood; showing each other our superhero underwear in the nursery at church.
I remember the time we snuck out of my room in the middle of the night and wound up being chased by angry gun owners and a police helicopter (though most of our fear was dedicated to how my dad was going to react to us sneaking out). I still remember the many conversations about girls, God and life we had sitting on his roof. The times we pursued the Lord with all we had. The days we would watch Lost, the Office and Seinfeld for hours at a time. The time when he rushed me to the hospital when my whole body starting shutting down or when I picked him up from the ER after sticking his fingers in a hedge trimmer.
I remember the one night sitting in Subway on Lake Boulevard, I told him, "I think Jenna is the girl I want to marry."
"So this is it, huh?" he asked looking up from his sandwich.
"This is it, man."
And I remember the phone call from Phoenix when he said of Wendy, "I want to marry this girl so bad."
Now we are officially grown ups with wives that we are crazy about and jobs that pay the bills. We live a thousand miles away from each other and we have lives that require the majority of our time. But in the middle of it all, we get to have skate parties at Home Depot. Good times.
Miss ya, Mike.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Playlist Reminiscing
In 8th grade, I found out “being in a band” was cool. This was evidenced by Blink-182 and three guys in my youth group who were known as Final Plea. Now, Blink was out of reach when it came to modeling myself and my maybe-someday band after. One, because they were adults and two, because they cussed and talked about sex and I knew you couldn’t do that as Christian band. Oh ya, I had to be in a Christian band because as a Christian, anything public you did had to be labeled as such or you were ashamed of Jesus. Disregard the minor detail that at the time I cussed and talked about sex incessantly. But Final Plea fame was attainable and exactly what I wanted. They occasionally sang about relatively moral subjects (Christian-band approved), they were just a few years older and all the girls my age were screaming the lyrics at every show we went to. Unfortunately for Final Plea, their fan base stayed the same age no matter how long they were around. I later found out this was typical of the pop punk genre.
So my best friend Mike, myself and one other guy started our own band. When you’re in 8th grade, it’s super easy. All you have to do is get three friends together, pick a band name and then decide who has to learn which instrument. All three of us wanted to learn guitar because drums are complicated and no one ever knows the name of the bassist. We called ourselves Crimped03 which was loosely based off an instant-messanger screen name, which was loosely based off the middle-school dance favorite “crimp walking” (see video) and the fact that there were three of us.
One weekend, Mike came over to spend the night at my house. After watching the TGIF line up of Boy Meets World and Sabrina, we stayed up late trying to write a song that would launch Crimped03 into the spotlight.
The Nitty-Gritty of Bandom fact #1: bands need songs need lyrics.
“Ok, so what do we write a song about?”
“I don’t know. Maybe about something in the Bible?”
“Good idea.” (Christian-band approved)
We dropped the Bible I owned but never read so that it would open randomly and blindly put our finger to the page.
“ ‘And David mustered his men’. Well that sucks. Lets try again.”
Finally we came upon what looked like a usable Scripture. James’ “taming the tongue”.
“Oh I got it! How about, ‘God gave it a use, don’t let it abuse.’”
“Dude that’s friggin gold!”
By the time we were done, we had our first rap song.
The Nitty-Gritty of Bandom fact #2: lyrics need melodies or its called rap.
Fact #3: Go punk or go home (circa ’99-‘04).
Well, the tongue song never made it on our album. Half because we still had no melody, half because we both woke up the next morning realizing it was crap and 99% because we never came close to making an album. Our third guitarist stopped going to our church and the band name left with him. We toyed with Crimped02 but it didn’t have the same ring to it. It was a VH1 Behind the Music special in the making.
All in all, we moved on from that scene.
So fast forward about nine years and here I am listening to Blink-182 and Final Plea on an ancient-of-days playlist, pondering the musings of an 8th grade punk rock star. On stage with two of his best friends, playing a whole song with only three power-chords and an auditorium filled with screaming 8th grade girls.
I’m glad we don’t always get what we want. An auditorium filled with screaming 8th grade girls sounds terrifying.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
What the Heck Do I Do Now?
I read a quote about a year and a half ago that unlocked my heart and lifted a weight off my shoulders all at the same time. It was permission. Frick, if only I knew this whole time I just needed permission. There are so many things I've learned since I met Jesus that I felt were so so right. Then a year or two later I'd find that I didn't really believe it at all because I'd just learned something new. "At least I've got it right this time," I'd think to myself.
A few nuggets of alleged truth stuck with me for a long long time though. Some of which came to define me and consequently restrict my heart from hearing a loving, affirming voice. That was until this:
"If I had my whole life to do over again I would not only swim more rivers, watch more sunsets and climb more mountains; I would not only go barefoot earlier in the spring, jettison my hot water bottle, umbrella and raft but I would spent not one more minute monitoring my spiritual growth. No not one." *
So that's what I did. I stopped monitoring my spiritual growth. Why was I ever doing that exhausting, forever disappointing scrutiny? Oh ya. To get "there". But where exactly was "there" for me?
I wanted to know that I was acceptable and pleasing. A smile on God's face was my "there". And it wasn't until I realized that that acceptance, delight and pleasure I was working so hard to obtain was there all along, that I was able to let go of trying to get "there". Because in reality, I am "there". I have arrived! This is freaking beautiful! He is smiling at me, with me, for me, because of me. Because He loves me. Because I am pleasing to Him, because I am His delight, because His displeasure was nailed to cross with my sin that Jesus became.
So what the heck do I do now? This was the inevitable next step in my journey and next daunting fear infested swamp I must forge through. Surely another deep-end of striving lies ahead of me. I mean if I stop working to make Him happy, what is my job description as a Christian now?
One day while contemplating all this I heard an ever-familiar thought in my head say, "Now that you've learned how much He loves you, do something about it." And there I was in swamp, feeling the life and breath being forced out of me. And then it hit me; this was the same thought that ended every great season in my life. Screw this! I'm not going here again. But where was the lie in "you must do something with the love He's poured out"? I mean it sounds so biblical.
All of the sudden I hear, "Aaron, I don't tell you I love you so that you will do something for me. That's called manipulation and I've never needed it nor used it. Aaron, I love you, because I love you, because I love you and I'm going to forever tell you that I love you because I love you, because I love you."
Back on dry land with green grass and a cool breeze. So what the heck do I do now?
I live free. Full of joy and peace. Full of security and wholeness and abundant life. That's what this world needs.
Dang. I get a whole lot more "done" and with more ease than I ever got done striving to get somewhere I've never left.
It feels safe working for His love. Because if Grace really isn't as good as it sounds, then at least we've got a back-up list of good works to keep us on His "well done but just barely" list. But if you give yourself to learning about His love for you, listening for that more than anything and feasting on it, I'll show you someone who does what the striving can only dream about.
* an excerpt from The Furious Longing of God by Brennan Manning. I just wrote this from memory so it isn't word for word. But it's the jist of what he so eloquently put
A few nuggets of alleged truth stuck with me for a long long time though. Some of which came to define me and consequently restrict my heart from hearing a loving, affirming voice. That was until this:
"If I had my whole life to do over again I would not only swim more rivers, watch more sunsets and climb more mountains; I would not only go barefoot earlier in the spring, jettison my hot water bottle, umbrella and raft but I would spent not one more minute monitoring my spiritual growth. No not one." *
So that's what I did. I stopped monitoring my spiritual growth. Why was I ever doing that exhausting, forever disappointing scrutiny? Oh ya. To get "there". But where exactly was "there" for me?
I wanted to know that I was acceptable and pleasing. A smile on God's face was my "there". And it wasn't until I realized that that acceptance, delight and pleasure I was working so hard to obtain was there all along, that I was able to let go of trying to get "there". Because in reality, I am "there". I have arrived! This is freaking beautiful! He is smiling at me, with me, for me, because of me. Because He loves me. Because I am pleasing to Him, because I am His delight, because His displeasure was nailed to cross with my sin that Jesus became.
So what the heck do I do now? This was the inevitable next step in my journey and next daunting fear infested swamp I must forge through. Surely another deep-end of striving lies ahead of me. I mean if I stop working to make Him happy, what is my job description as a Christian now?
One day while contemplating all this I heard an ever-familiar thought in my head say, "Now that you've learned how much He loves you, do something about it." And there I was in swamp, feeling the life and breath being forced out of me. And then it hit me; this was the same thought that ended every great season in my life. Screw this! I'm not going here again. But where was the lie in "you must do something with the love He's poured out"? I mean it sounds so biblical.
All of the sudden I hear, "Aaron, I don't tell you I love you so that you will do something for me. That's called manipulation and I've never needed it nor used it. Aaron, I love you, because I love you, because I love you and I'm going to forever tell you that I love you because I love you, because I love you."
Back on dry land with green grass and a cool breeze. So what the heck do I do now?
I live free. Full of joy and peace. Full of security and wholeness and abundant life. That's what this world needs.
Dang. I get a whole lot more "done" and with more ease than I ever got done striving to get somewhere I've never left.
It feels safe working for His love. Because if Grace really isn't as good as it sounds, then at least we've got a back-up list of good works to keep us on His "well done but just barely" list. But if you give yourself to learning about His love for you, listening for that more than anything and feasting on it, I'll show you someone who does what the striving can only dream about.
* an excerpt from The Furious Longing of God by Brennan Manning. I just wrote this from memory so it isn't word for word. But it's the jist of what he so eloquently put
Thursday, December 16, 2010
If at first you don't succeed, stop trying
True character is a response to God's unconditional love, acceptance and goodness; not an attempt to earn it.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Coveted Cold
I'm sitting at my kitchen table just having eaten Lucky Charms out of a coffee mug, now drinking my Organic Sunrise Blend coffee, made with a french press and with a little Italian Sweet Creme. It's overcast and raining outside. I just read a chapter from David Crowder's Praise Habit and had to get up to put my new jacket on because all the windows are open and my long-sleeve is not sufficing. Mike used to say in first year that when winter comes around, we will leave all the windows open and just get bundled up in beanies, blankets and sweatshirts. The cold is a coveted substance in Phoenix but here in Redding, that does not last long. Sun become coveted during 18 days of rain in winter.
I'm wearing flip flops because yesterday's mid 90's made my feet sweat. Now my feet are cold. I can smell the rain outside which has stopped falling from the clouds and is now dripping heavily off the trees. Though it won't be long before the clouds say, "My turn!" again.
I look up, out the window, past the four staggered trees, to where the roof of the two bedroom apartments meet the gray sky and I hear God say, "See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands." I found it in Isaiah yesterday and something inside me jumped. Simply translated it's, "I just love you so much!" At least that's how I take it.
Jenna used to tell me before we got engaged that a diamond ring is temporary but a tattoo that says, "JENNA" is forever. "And preferably on your butt." Probably because she knew that not only would the ink be of more permanence but she would always be reminded of the sacrifice of pain that I endured for her and that she was worth it.
I've been engraved on the palms of His hands. A reminder born out of great sacrifice. "See," He says, "You can't erase these. They are forever. I am wholly and eternally devoted to you."
"Look," He says. He is not ashamed of them. He does not hide them. He shows them off.
"See? You were so worth it."
I'm wearing flip flops because yesterday's mid 90's made my feet sweat. Now my feet are cold. I can smell the rain outside which has stopped falling from the clouds and is now dripping heavily off the trees. Though it won't be long before the clouds say, "My turn!" again.
I look up, out the window, past the four staggered trees, to where the roof of the two bedroom apartments meet the gray sky and I hear God say, "See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands." I found it in Isaiah yesterday and something inside me jumped. Simply translated it's, "I just love you so much!" At least that's how I take it.
Jenna used to tell me before we got engaged that a diamond ring is temporary but a tattoo that says, "JENNA" is forever. "And preferably on your butt." Probably because she knew that not only would the ink be of more permanence but she would always be reminded of the sacrifice of pain that I endured for her and that she was worth it.
I've been engraved on the palms of His hands. A reminder born out of great sacrifice. "See," He says, "You can't erase these. They are forever. I am wholly and eternally devoted to you."
"Look," He says. He is not ashamed of them. He does not hide them. He shows them off.
"See? You were so worth it."
Friday, September 3, 2010
Rose-Colored Glasses and Colored TV
I work four days a week and rack in about 50 hours a week. It's a pretty good deal. This past week though, I put in about 90 hours because I picked up a couple shifts for other people. My wife picked up some shifts for her coworkers as well. So we could only see each other an hour or two here and there. I really missed her. It sucks not being able to see her as much as I want. Being connected is just so amazing, it's really noticeable when you get disconnected. (Disconnected in the "I haven't seen you in a while"; not the "I've seen you way too much recently") I watched a short video of this old couple being interviewed about their relationship and the husband said, "Marriage is like color television," dating himself, "once you have it, you never want to go back to black and white."
When Jenna and I first got married, I had a lot of single people ask me, "What's it like being married?" Now, I'm a rose-colored glasses kind of guy. Our marriage counselors confirmed it. I rebutted, "Oh don't worry. I'm fully aware of reality." And internally, "I'm fully aware of how awesome reality is!" These glasses don't lie about how amazing and beautiful a rose is. They just distort or hide the fact that there are thorns to every rose.
I had a friend offer to give me a hair cut once. I accepted knowing that it would work out fine and would turn out awesome regardless of the fact that she said, "Nevermind. I'm too afraid I'll screw it up. I only took one year of beauty school. I've never cut guy's hair before. Aaron, please don't make me do this." Well in my optimistic insistence and her growing anxiety she accidentally buzzed a chunk of hair that has never been short enough to expose my scalp before. She was pretty upset and I was astounded that I wasn't looking at Brad Pitt in the mirror. On the flip side, I went to a professional shortly after and got one of the best haircuts I've ever had. (Dear single-year beautician friend, I still believe in you!)
So needless to say i pricked my finger a few times when Jenna and I got married.
"What? You don't want to decorate our bedroom the same way I've always decorated my bedroom?"
"Why don't we have extra money like when we were single? You need nail polish? Eleven bucks!?"
"Why can't we have mashed potatoes with our pasta? What do you mean that's too many starches for one meal?"
There are also times when you have to not say what you are thinking in order to protect your connection. There are times when you feel like withholding your love in order to get them to change their mind about something you disagree on. You can't do it. Not unless you would like to substitute your color tv for black and white.
I considered myself to be pretty good at being selfless and communicating bravely. Well, turns out it's still hard to do both. No matter how good you are at it. So I would tell people who asked me about marriage, "It's not as easy as I thought it would be," trying not to give them my glasses and the consequent bloody fingers while foregoing the overwhelming beauty of the petals and scent.
I've dropped that answer since then because I realized I was giving people the impression that Jenna and I were having a "hard time", which is the opposite of how I would describe our first year and a half.
And it's funny how our relationship works. Jenna thrives on foreign-traveling, adapting-to-a-new-surrounding adventure and spontaneity while I thrive on establishing roots and stability. At times, this poses a conflict. Like when Jenna wants to move to Honduras and I want to have a baby. And at the same time its the extreme value we both place on relationship and the way we approach life that makes Honduras and babies manageable. Its in the way her adventurous heart helps me see the world as a masterpiece to be experienced and my responsibility helps her see the freedom in a budget.
On the days when Jenna's desires conflict with mine, I have had thoughts about what it would have been like had I married someone more like me. But honestly, in that vein I've pictured myself being the "Jenna" in the relationship. Trying to bring the person that is "more like me" out of their box, and not because that box is bad but because there is just more to life than whats in that box. And it's in those moments with those thoughts that made me realize how much life Jenna brings me, even in (or especially in) our differences and how absolutely irreplaceable she is.
Marriage is difficult. Being married to Jenna though, is easy and amazing. It's the best thing since colored television. And I would never go back.
When Jenna and I first got married, I had a lot of single people ask me, "What's it like being married?" Now, I'm a rose-colored glasses kind of guy. Our marriage counselors confirmed it. I rebutted, "Oh don't worry. I'm fully aware of reality." And internally, "I'm fully aware of how awesome reality is!" These glasses don't lie about how amazing and beautiful a rose is. They just distort or hide the fact that there are thorns to every rose.
I had a friend offer to give me a hair cut once. I accepted knowing that it would work out fine and would turn out awesome regardless of the fact that she said, "Nevermind. I'm too afraid I'll screw it up. I only took one year of beauty school. I've never cut guy's hair before. Aaron, please don't make me do this." Well in my optimistic insistence and her growing anxiety she accidentally buzzed a chunk of hair that has never been short enough to expose my scalp before. She was pretty upset and I was astounded that I wasn't looking at Brad Pitt in the mirror. On the flip side, I went to a professional shortly after and got one of the best haircuts I've ever had. (Dear single-year beautician friend, I still believe in you!)
So needless to say i pricked my finger a few times when Jenna and I got married.
"What? You don't want to decorate our bedroom the same way I've always decorated my bedroom?"
"Why don't we have extra money like when we were single? You need nail polish? Eleven bucks!?"
"Why can't we have mashed potatoes with our pasta? What do you mean that's too many starches for one meal?"
There are also times when you have to not say what you are thinking in order to protect your connection. There are times when you feel like withholding your love in order to get them to change their mind about something you disagree on. You can't do it. Not unless you would like to substitute your color tv for black and white.
I considered myself to be pretty good at being selfless and communicating bravely. Well, turns out it's still hard to do both. No matter how good you are at it. So I would tell people who asked me about marriage, "It's not as easy as I thought it would be," trying not to give them my glasses and the consequent bloody fingers while foregoing the overwhelming beauty of the petals and scent.
I've dropped that answer since then because I realized I was giving people the impression that Jenna and I were having a "hard time", which is the opposite of how I would describe our first year and a half.
And it's funny how our relationship works. Jenna thrives on foreign-traveling, adapting-to-a-new-surrounding adventure and spontaneity while I thrive on establishing roots and stability. At times, this poses a conflict. Like when Jenna wants to move to Honduras and I want to have a baby. And at the same time its the extreme value we both place on relationship and the way we approach life that makes Honduras and babies manageable. Its in the way her adventurous heart helps me see the world as a masterpiece to be experienced and my responsibility helps her see the freedom in a budget.
On the days when Jenna's desires conflict with mine, I have had thoughts about what it would have been like had I married someone more like me. But honestly, in that vein I've pictured myself being the "Jenna" in the relationship. Trying to bring the person that is "more like me" out of their box, and not because that box is bad but because there is just more to life than whats in that box. And it's in those moments with those thoughts that made me realize how much life Jenna brings me, even in (or especially in) our differences and how absolutely irreplaceable she is.
Marriage is difficult. Being married to Jenna though, is easy and amazing. It's the best thing since colored television. And I would never go back.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
January 4th, 2010 - Nothing Else Really Works
This weekend I've had to come against a lot of fear. Fear that I'm doing this whole relationship with God wrong. That I'm losing this crazy love affair between me and Him. That I'm not doing good enough in our relationship. Fear that I'm failing. And shame as a result. But apparently Holy Spirit doesn't do fear or shame.
Here's what He told me, "Aaron I haven't given you fear, nor do I use it to manipulate you into doing what I want. I only give love and there is no fear in it. When you know my love, you won't know fear. Look at the affects my love has on people. They are free, full of life, powerful, joyful, full of peace, loving, driven and motivated. Fear can't do any of those." [maybe 'motivate' but only to move in the wrong direction]
Then He added, "I do not try to manipulate you by using guilt and shame. Those never brought true repentance, healed a broken heart, lit a passionate fire or inspired childlikeness. There is no love in guilt or shame. I'm Love. You won't find a guilt-giving look on My face nor will you feel shame in My presence. Oh ya and don't feel obligated to capitalize My pronouns."
Here's what He told me, "Aaron I haven't given you fear, nor do I use it to manipulate you into doing what I want. I only give love and there is no fear in it. When you know my love, you won't know fear. Look at the affects my love has on people. They are free, full of life, powerful, joyful, full of peace, loving, driven and motivated. Fear can't do any of those." [maybe 'motivate' but only to move in the wrong direction]
Then He added, "I do not try to manipulate you by using guilt and shame. Those never brought true repentance, healed a broken heart, lit a passionate fire or inspired childlikeness. There is no love in guilt or shame. I'm Love. You won't find a guilt-giving look on My face nor will you feel shame in My presence. Oh ya and don't feel obligated to capitalize My pronouns."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)