Animal Cruelty

Just so you all know, I am doing fine. I currently live with my friend's girlfriend. It sounds weirder than it is. She is a close friend, like a sister, and is seriously in no danger of me lusting after her, just not my type...at all.

The arrangement works out great. I am the big guy that keeps her weird neighbors and old weird friends from bothering her. I give her a low rent and everyone is happy. Except me. It isn't her so much as it is her dirtiness. Anyone who knows me has to know that for me to say anything about cleanliness requires an extreme problem.

In the four months that I've lived there, I am the only one who has vacuumed, cleaned the floors or done the dishes. I am the only one who has cleaned the bathroom.

She has a self-defrosting freezer that frosted up because it was too full and messy.

She has a dog. A Maltese. White dog of miniature death. I want to kill the animal, not out of cruelty toward animals but in self-defense. The animal is cruel to me. In the time that I've lived there, the dog has managed to eat my $150 sunglasses, eat my toothbrush, poop on my shirt and piss on my suitjacket. He eats the trash. He pisses on the linoleum. He craps all over the friggin house. And she never cleans it up. I used to but now I'm doing an experiment. I want to see how many pieces of crap it takes for her to start smelling it. So I step over it on the way in the house and step over it on the way out of the house. I know she comes in and out the same door as me, so I know she doesnt miss it. She has to be ignoring it, hoping I will do something about it.

I think the girl is really cool and we would get along great if the dog was dead. But, on the other hand, I think she would not really be friendly toward me if she found out I murdered her instrument of torture/dog.

Animals are overrated. They are worse than children (and that is saying a lot). Why anyone would suffer through the smell, the hair, the barking, and the crap is beyond me. At least kids will eventually help you with the chores.

I think I'm gonna move.

The Problem Of Jason

I know everyone who reads this blog gets tired of hearing about Jason, my brother. I know everyone is tired of being bummed out by what I write. I wish I had better news, but right now this is where I am. Or, better said, this is what I am choosing to write about. In writing, you can clearly state one thing and have it misunderstood by many. I write these down not only for the benefit of my community, but really mostly for the benefit of my state of mind; it's remarkably cheaper than therapy. So read with caution.

I recently had someone tell me that I write about my problems for sympathy. There is truth to that. I accept that. I want to be understood. I find it rare that anyone understands me, ever. So I write to a general audience seeking a small demographic sample that may find my writings to be interesting, enlightening or even challenging. I hope that a year from now I am not embarrassed by my thoughts, because I find the honesty and disclosure to be outrageously refreshing.

I am looking for empathy more than sympathy. I want you to walk in these shoes. It reminds me of a song by king's X.

SHOES

There can be but better ways from yesterdays to me
Somewhere there are better days for better ways to be
Sunny Days Have Funny Ways of Quieting the Roar
Is it still a blessed thing to live and live some more?

And I'm left with the truth
And I'm right in my mind
Given Some of the time, maybe never
So I walk in these shoes
When I feel its the blues
If it aint it will do....

I woke up early one morning
Like I been under a spell
Gazed into the mirror reflection
Said I had to do it or else.

And I'm left with the truth
And I'm right in my mind
Given Some of the time, maybe never
So I walk in these shoes
When I feel its the blues
If it aint it will do....

Oooh, things are through

There can be but better ways from yesterdays to me
Somewhere there are better days for better ways to be
Sunny Days Have Funny Ways of Quieting the Roar
Is it still a blessed thing to live and live some more?

From this I gather: I am weeping a lot. I am. I am mourning. I am still mourning. Sorry Russell. I am. If you choose not weep with me, then it's on your head. I am mourning so many losses I can't count them all. Say what you want. But your happy speeches make no sense to the mourning. I have no problem bearing that to the world. I am confessing it.

In my youth I had plenty of sunshine. I had rain. But mostly sunny days and lemonade. One time on a sunny day i scraped my arm, and shook the italian dressing and it got inside the wound. Man, that hurt.

I had a luxurious childhood safe from most harms. It didnt prepare me for the misery I have recently endured. I now appreciate those days more. I can now truly appreciate those people with worse lives than mine.

I remember sitting around a campfire as a child at church camp hearing the confessions of these kids. I remember them telling about the abuse they endured, about the sins they committed, about the problems they endured. I used to pray to God for something bad to happen so that I could understand them better. Isnt that nuts? Its like the kids in my store who cry when they don't get to wear glasses because they have no prescription.

I prayed in college for God to undo me. To destroy me. Man. Did that ever work! I am stripped. Woe to me! I am undone! For I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips. All the words I speak are tainted.

And so that is my point. I am getting up. I am moving on. Its nothing like anything you could imagine. Its different. Its worse. And It's not as bad as you thought.

Its just life. Its terrifying. Its thrilling and exciting. Hopefully you find someone wonderful who understands you and can cry with you. someone to hold you when you are weak and dry your tears. I had that for a while and it was great. I dont have that now and I miss it. I want that desperately.

Please save your speeches about how God/Christ are there doing that for me now. We all know that is true and wonderful information in the information age. He does it in His own time. And now I know what it is to want. I want more comfort. I want more satisfaction. I want more.

I'm greedy. I'll deal with that on my own time. LOL. Blogging is so nuts. Why do I tell you people these things? I know for a fact I would never tell you all these things in person. It would be some joke or another. I'm quite funny still.

Whatever. This is me. the real me.

HOW? HOW? HOW?

When you fall really far, like from the top floor of a 100 story building, you build a great deal of vertical velocity. Gravity is a real bitch in that scenario. Cement, though, is the bigger bitch. When your body hits that immutable firmness, it expands, shifts and gives. Your bones break into hundreds of pieces. Your flesh tears and your blood shoots out into a spray so big like the biggest water balloon. Dont ask me how I know this.

Falling hurts so bad that it hurts even to think about it. It hurts to talk/write/contemplate it. It hurts because you know what's coming. Advice.

You get a thousand opinions about how to get back up.
1. The scriptures say you are letting Satan have a foothold. You are not really fallen. You are victorious. You're Believing a lie. I am blessed with spiritual knowledge. Whatever.
2. Pray more. God will lift you up. True but when? How does that help me right now? I am. I pray. Help me stop being a pancake here on the ground.
3. Come to our church. Our church is so much better. Then you'll feel better.
4. Go back to school. Make some money. You'll be miserable, but comfortable.
5. Have a drink. You'll still be miserable, but you'll forget it for a while.
6. Sleep with me. You'll still be miserable, just a new kind of miserable.
7. Hang out with your buddies. "Hey! I'm a pancake, remember?" Come scoop me up. Bring your very best spatula from SPATULA CITY, where they sell spatulas...and that's all.
8. This isnt really advice. But I hear "I am praying for you. " Thank you for the prayer. But this pancake isn't gonna reform itself. It needs therapy. It needs rehabilitation. So it doesn't look so pancaky anymore.

This is not meant to be a criticism of anyone in particular. I'm venting. Nobody has yet to mean me harm. Ok. Maybe one person. But that is pretty good considering.

But I just will keep writing. Please read this stuff. I remember being a pastor with a lilly-white past. I had no idea how to cope with people who were suffering. I had no idea what they were going through. I remember hearing the song "Take My World Apart" by Jars of Clay. Unmake me. I wanted so badly to be broken, you know, so I could understand Christ better and be a more empathetic minister (what a messed up way of thinking).

God answered my prayer. He took my world apart. Broke me into a thousand fragile pieces. To teach me. Nobody is invulnerable. Nobody is safe. As long as we live with people, we will all suffer. Suffering sucks.

It does! But hear this: God does not allow us to suffer so that He can take away our suffering. He does it so that by enduring suffering, we develop patience. It is discipline. The task I'm being called to is unique. I am still finding what it is. I am not done suffering yet. Not just suffering for the gospel, that would be awfully pious. Nope Just general miserable life type of suffering. Tell you what, though. I am learning a remarkable lesson in compassion. I am learning about what I really want from others when I'm suffering.

I think that by going through this, I am learning how to mourn with others. To really mourn. With them. Not just feeling sorry for them. Really mourning. I appreciate those of you who chose to mourn with me, rather than promise me happiness. I love how you cried with me and said "I dont know what to do!" I know! Me either! I love it. I know what it is to go without.

And that is just a small sampling of the advice I've honestly received.

This is strange and yet a happy strange. And straightforwardly not what I intended or designed this blog to be. But I have to be honest with you, the residuals are kind of nice. I wanted to incite some emotion. I wanted to spark some discussion. I wanted lashings of criticism. I am still trying. I will get it.

However, what I did not expect from this blog was encouragement. It is like a drug that keeps the lonelies away. I've been hearing from people I haven't talked to in almost 10 years. They don't know what to say, ironically, but the fact that they say anything is even a little encouraging.

So thank you. For those of you who responded with encouragement, thank you. For those who have responded with prayer, thank you. For those of you who responded with laughter, thank you.

And I would like to thank the Academy... well not really. Thank you India.

No thank YOU, Alanis

Tom, Shannon, Bob, Austin, Eric, Megyn, Nita, Regen, Heather, Tim, Kara, Ben, and Russell. Thanks.

I actually feel a little better today. Even if I'm only hanging on by a thread, thanks.

Thank you for everyone else I am not mentioning because I forgot or intentionally left you out. And for those I am not thanking: No thanks

Lonesome

God is with me. That is a comforting thought. Comforting thoughts are thoughts designed with the intent of comforting someone who lacks comfort. Those of us who lack comfort need reassurance. The reassurance is intended to bolster our confidence, push us on through to the next day. One more down. One less to go until I see him. Why do I need this assurance? Why do I constantly need to be reminded of His invisible, inaudible, intangible presence? Because I am human. I am alone. I am lonely and lack faith. He gives faith. I have just enough to make it. Never more, never less. Ok. Sometimes less.

Loneliness is maddening. It is truth. It is harsh, unforgiving reality. The thread of hope that God is near is sometimes like covering up the harshest winter chill with a napkin. It's a nice thought, but it doesn't make the bed warmer. Loneliness beckons the flesh. Warm up! Nourish yourself. Crawl back into the womb and forget that you're alive. Remember the warmth of your mother's belly? Remember and regret, for you will never feel that true warmth again. In brief moments, in the arms of your lover, you may remember those days of old. When life was all consumption. when life was innocent.

So the flesh calls. Consume her! Embrace her! It calls because it reminds you of when life was good. Remember that brief moment in life when it was awesome. Before you entered the world. Warmth. Consumption. Nothing was ever easier than that. You didn't even have to breathe. No aches. No chills. No loneliness.

Thinking about loneliness makes me think about love. It makes me think about what I used to call love. I now realize that my first marriage choice was all about my fear of loneliness. What a bad way to make a decision. I cloaked it in religion, spritiual glamor, and zeal. I was lonely. I wanted to crawl back into my mother's womb. The call of the flesh and its pleasures was so powerful that I married her so that my lust would be justified. I would say the same for her. And when we both realized it, we found we were too late. My life would have been so much easier if I had just committed adultery with her and gotten it out of my system.

But I made my bed. Now I lay in it. Alone. Cold. Lonesome. So lonesome I could die.
So lonesome. Now the flesh calls me again. Now I hear it's empty pleas.

I scroll through my cell phone looking for someone to call, so I dont have to hear the silence. I hang out with my friends long enough so that I can get so exhausted that I'm too tired to think about how lonely I am. When I get off the phone with you, I look for someone else to call to keep the reality of my solitude at bay. I watch Tv. I listen to my radio. I download 1000 songs. I know them all. I learn the words and sing them loud and cry alone. I call out to God. The cries echo in my room, reverberating in my ears reminding me how desperate and alone I really am. God hears. He answers prayer, but not soon enough to satisfy me now. This loneliness is to teach me something. Is that supposed to give me hope? After all that I've learned? Knowledge is no comfort! It is a chasing after the wind. The more I know, the more I am aware of how thorougly miserable I am. Peace.

Just a sidenote: I wrote this whole blog while listening to songs from The Cure while wearing white face make-up and my hair in an Edward Scissorhands style.

Stirring the Pot

I mean really. If we are going to have arguments over foolish things, why mask the foolishness with idealism? Why not let the foolishness really be really really foolish? Like Republican Party Foolishness. I think the only platform I am in agreement with the Republican Party with is the abortion issue. And I know for a fact it isn't because they really care. They really just want the Christian majority vote. Bloodsuckers! I hate their stance on the environment. I hate their stance on race issues. I hate their stance on 90% of their domestic issues. I think also agree with their stance vs. unions. But not because I am a big proponent of big business. I am more a proponent of the middle class. And Unions have destroyed the middle class. They have driven up wages in America to such ridiculous high that businesses can't really afford to stay in America. So when businesses move to Mexico, the democrats freak out saying we lost all these US jobs, when really the unions drove the businesses out of the US. Gay Marriage? I guess living in a free country, I feel I have to accept the morality of the marjority as legal, even if I personally disagree with it. I'll vote against it, but if the country upholds it, then I'll support it. I would be naive to assume that we live in a Christian Society. And it would be absurd for me to compare Gay Marriage to Abortion or Murder as some Christians would have me do. They are not remotely the same thing. I am not saying that homosexuality is not a sin. I am not saying I endorse homosexuality in any form. What I am saying is that God's rage is God's. I know these people are not gay because they want to be. They just are. I would have to say before you argue with me, try to really get to know some gay people. Really know them. Not in the Biblical sense because that would be entirely too ironic. Try accepting the fact that you are a sinner. A really bad one. And try to accept the fact that the sins you can't stop committing (and you know what they are) are all as condemning as the sins they commit. Now, for me, I can't stop stirring the pot. I really get off on pissing off Christian pseudo-intellectuals. I know they want to argue. I found their weakness. Their sin. Argumentativeness is a sin. Yup. For some reason, though, Christians justify it in a million different ways. DEFENDING THE TRUTH!!! Please! IRON SHARPENING THE IRON!! Whatever. Am I proposing that we go on sinning in order that gracd may abound? Not really. But telling someone to stop being what they are is not as easy as it sounds. Telling someone that is gay that they are wrong for being gay is (in their minds) telling them to stop being. (period). That would be completely devoid of compassion. Extracting that way of thinking requires patience. Not 1o minute patience. Not 10 week patience. Not 10 year patience. Do you remember the difficulty Steve Martin had facing the fact that he wasn't black in "The Jerk"? Has anyone seen "Malibu's Most Wanted"? B-Rad thought he was really a hip hop prodigy. He was so convinced he was willing to die for it. Everyone around him could see he clearly wasn't but it didnt stop him from pursuing it because of what he believed about himself. Saying homosexuals are repulsive or disgusting is trite. Its the highest form of arrogance. It's everything that is wrong with the church. It maintains that somehow whatever you are or whatever you are doing is better than what they are. As if you are what you are by your own merit, and they are what they are by their shortcomings. Grace plays no part in who you are or where you came from. You use yourself as the litmus for what is acceptable or not. "I had a hard life and I'm not gay" implies "therefore, I'm better". Or, "they have a choice" implies that you chose your life situation just as clearly as they did. And for some reason you chose to be an asshole instead of a homosexual. I have to tell you: that must have been a tough choice for you. Clearly you chose the "lesser of two evils" (tongue placed securely in cheek). As I said before, I am not endorsing homosexuality or assholishness as acceptable lifestyles. We are what we are. Grace saves us. Not repentance. We cant repent for all our sins. If we could we would. We cant even begin to name all our sins let alone repent of them. I hear people say to me, "Brandon, but you can't be a Christian and go on sinning". I maintain that if that were true, then there would be no Christians. The argument that others glorify their sin or put it on display clearly shows that they are not Christian is equally as insubstantial. It doesnt hold water. You find that what most Christians preach about or against is a result of their own struggle with sin. The people who are most staunchly against abortions are people who've had abortions. The people who preach the strongest about sexual immorality have the darkest loneliest struggles with sexual immorality. People who talk about greed want more than anyone. The people who talk about faith are the weakest. The people who talk about gentleness are brutal. It goes on and on and Im tired of the pretense. We can't do it guys! We just can't maintain this image of perfection for the public to see. Would someone please admit that when they go to the mall they are in a state of constant erection because the girls wear next to nothing (and you like it!) Would someone please admit that they like it? Please admit that you really hate it when people cut you off. You like how angry you get. You feel guilty because you took such exciting pleasure in pounding your steering wheel with rage. You wanted them to hear your curses. You did! I am so glad I have Jesus. He knows how much I like sinning. He knows how easy it is. He knows the guilt I feel because the sins of the flesh are so exciting. Not just fun, but riveting. Not just fun but thrilling. I wish a Christian (besides me) had the nerve to talk about that kind of thrill without masking it and bathing it in repentance. We only admit it when we're repentant. How cowardly is that? Thats like having a conscience in retrospect. Would someone stand up and admit that they like a little alcoholic buzz? Guilt has it's place. Guilt is awesome. it Teaches. It sharpens us. Would someone please admit that they aren't really better now than they were when they were living in sin? The only difference is the difference God made. Not your difference. That the only difference is the amount of work the Holy Spirit has done in you, not the amount of time and energy you put into the Holy Spirit? Sanctification is God's work, not yours. It's your job to give glory. real glory. not pretend and get your ministry paycheck glory. I know I get in more trouble for burning bridges than anyone I know. I know I get railed because I say unpopular things. Even wrong things. I am a weak broken man. I lie all the time. All the time. I keep catching myself saying things I don't mean. I keep catching myself painting a picture for people to see. I suck! But you know what? The more I say in the realm of truth, the more free I get. Maybe I have more lies to dig out of than the rest of you. I don't know. I am not better than you. But dont' be too quick to agree with me.

Something Tom said in his blog tickled my writer's fancy. He was mentioning how excited he gets when he hears Christian artists on secular radio. That used to excite me, too. Only I got so into it that I found out that lots of Christian people are already on the radio. Even if I don't agree with their lifestyles or choices of vocabulary, they claim to be followers of JC, and so it became fascinating for me to do the research. Eventually, my favorite artists were artists whose music was "touched" by the HS and it ministered to me in a new way that Christian music never had before. I was listening to artists whose intention was to make music, and when the subject of God or Christ came up, it wasn't because they were trying to convert people with their songs, and it wasn't music for sale with the intent of uniting believers in worship (a concept that still really bothers me). The songs were just actual thoughts of how God relates to them. You see humanity's hunger for God in in all sorts of shapes and sizes. People who ask the honest questions about God. Artists who explore other perspectives than those held by Sparrow Music or Forefront Records. You'd find artists who are artists for the sake art who happen to be believers. They say weird things. Not churchy things. Not always good things. Always honest things. Always challenging things for the complacent believer to hear.
So here is my listening list for the believers who rock, and actually make decent art to boot.
U2, Switchfoot, Lifehouse, Dashboard Confessional, Lenny Kravitz, MXPX, Blink 182 (seriously), Jimmy Eat World, The Juliana Theory, Chevelle, Sixpence None The Richer, R. Kelly, Mary J. Blige, 12 Stones, Creed, Alter Bridge, Evanescence, P.O.D., Accedental Experiment, ZWAN, Billy Corgan (again, seriously), Unwritten Law, Alice Cooper, Johnny Cash, Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean (therefore, the Fugees) King's X, M.C. Hammer, Mario Winans, Mase, DMX, and others. I'm looking forward to hearing the new group, Big Dismal from Wind-up Records, the label that produces Creed, Alter Bridge, Evanescence, and Scott Stapp (of Creed). Kid Rock was recently interviewed in Rolling Stone and stated that he was looking for a church that he and his son could attend in the Detroit Area near his new home. What do you do with that? I don't know really. Is the music necessarily "Christian"? Not really. But it is valuable. It is useful. And it is art. It is pure expression. Credit for that.