Starting with Prayer and Moving on...

Prayer.

It is something I have struggled with since adolescence.

As a child, it really wasn’t hard to remember to pray. A prayer before bedtime and at meals became a part of routine. But as I grew older, it became les and les a part of my life.

I have never been able to get in any sort of an effective prayer schedule.

When it comes right down to it, I have never really been able to get on any sort of an effective schedule at all. It is one of the weaknesses that most disturbs me, and I think it is one of Satan’s strongest footholds in my life.

I think I may have found a way to pray more often, though. Written prayer.

I don’t pray often largely because I am ashamed of the lack of spontaneous eloquence that so many of the leaders in churches seem to possess. You ask my pastor or my dad to pray and you get this beautiful, almost poetic entreaty. Me, I just have the “Lord, I have need of this and this and this. In the name of your son, amen.”

Writing, though, gives me an opportunity to collect my thoughts, edit the thing if necessary. I can write in a poetic manner, and it serves me well sometimes. Slowing down enough to write out the things I am thankful for, the things I need, the things I want; it gives me a chance to get somewhere near that articulate expressiveness that so intimidates me.

Writing will help me be more willing to pray on a regular basis.

Then arises the problem of remembering to pray.

My problem here is that I fear suffering.

In the middle ages, it was relatively common for devout Christians to ask God for suffering in their lives to bring them into a better understanding of Him and His Glory. They often got what they asked for, too.

But I don’t want to suffer, so I fear asking God for reminders to pray, because those reminders so often come in the form of suffering and loss that drives us back to Him. After all, you would have to be crazy to want to suffer, right? Right? *sigh*

The Bible says “rejoice when you undergo persecution because of Me.” Not if, when. If we, as Christians, are not suffering for Christ, are we really being good Christians? I want to say no, but both my hear t and my head tell me that if I am not suffering, I am not living as I ought.

I want the suffering that I go through as a single, college-age Christian male to be enough. I am a stranger to the world of today because I think sex is something that needs to wait for marriage. I won’t let myself go party, take a girl home for a one night stand. I don’t know if I could take a girl home for a one-night stand if I wanted to, and it tortures me. I can’t get a date from someone I’m physically attracted to. I fear dating a non-Christian because of my weakness in the face of temptation and the presumed willingness of someone who does not have that same desire for abstinence as I do. I don’t mean to say that non-Christians all sleep around, but I don’t want to have sex before marriage, no matter how healthy and committed the relationship is. And I don’t really want to date a Christian either. We’re boring, anymore. All we want to talk about is the will of God. I’m writing an essay on just how much the ‘hyper-spiritual’ Christian annoys me, as someone who is not as much of an extrovert. I don’t feel that I lack terribly in my faith, but there is a guilt when I am among the ‘born again.’ I have had no epic conversion experience. There is not particular moment I can point to where I became a Christian. I have always wanted Jesus in my heart, as long as I can remember. How am I supposed to sway a non-Christian towards the faith? I don’t know where they are, really. Tim Keller says there are three things pastors have to preach to: the will, the head, and the heart. The will is the emotion, and the head is the intellectual aspect of the message, and the heart is really knowing it, deep in your soul. I can have a complete intellectual and empathetic grasp of where a person is, but having never been outside of the church, I cannot know, in the deepest part of who I am, what a person is going through.

Man, this is getting to be a long post. Oh well.

Suffering is a problem for me. My fear of it is a weakness, or at least I so perceive it.

Maybe my suffering as a single, 21-year-old male without any reasonable dating prospects is enough, but I really don't think so. There is so much suffering, real physical and emotional suffering, out there in the world, that I cannot believe that this is all I have to go through. Does it pain me? obviously. But I cannot, and will not allow myself to be broken by it.

The problem is, maybe being broken is just what I need.

But I am an American man. A man who cannot show weakness. The rugged individualist, who needs no one else. After all, isn't that what I'm supposed to be? And as such, I cannot allow anything to break me. it wouldn't fit the image I have of myself. And I fear being broken. Wait, I can't fear that! I'm not supposed to be afraid of anything.

Blast. I sound like an angsty teenager. Blech, catharsis.

And that's what is on my mind today.

Politically charged

Inspired by a post by Erica Prinz over at  The Spokanite, I’ve decided to write something on the subject of –gasp—politics.

Not necessarily my personal politics, but what I think about politics in general.

First, I’ll say that I probably agree with you on something.

I’ll also say that I probably disagree with you on something.

Disagreement, however, does not mean I am unwilling to talk –and listen—about that subject. There’s a pretty good chance we can learn something about each other. You probably have insights that I do not, I might have some tidbit that you don’t.

Unlike the radio pundits, I will not try and shout you down if I disagree with you. 

Unless you try and spew nonsense about college football, that can get me pretty riled up.

I myself tend to be politically conservative, but many of my friends are politically somewhere left of Kofi Annan.

Alternately, I enjoy the company of several people who would make Rush Limbaugh look like a bastion of centrist thought.

What do they have in common? They’re all fun to talk to and willing to listen to opposing viewpoints. They may disagree with you, and they will tell you they disagree with you, but they are not bigoted.

And yes, I realize that saying someone is not bigoted is usually the fastest way to label them as an extremist who actually is, but hey, in this case I may actually be telling the truth. Imagine that.

Okay, my inner cynic is starting to show. I should stop writing before he takes over entirely and says something outrageously and debate-provoking to try and set off a firestorm of comments.

I don’t think homosexual feelings are any more sinful than heterosexual passion, both are forms of lust.

Bye.

Three weeks in...

I’ve come to a realization.

Most of these blog posts will be written in a style indicative of my mood. Therefore, being at school, they will have something of an intellectual bent, possibly with a bit of depression mixed in. then there’s always the sarcasm/cynicism of my personality.

So,  my posts are going to read like the philosophical academic wanderings of a depressed cynic.

I’m not sure if this is good or bad. It may be entertaining (cynical trains of though often roll through the funny station. [did I really just write that?]) or boring (I came across a funny snippet in one of my textbooks today, but reality says it won’t happen very often.) I suppose I’ll leave it up to you, the reader, to decide.

Unless I tell you what to think about them.

Hmmm….

*ahem*

“YOU WILL FIND THIS BLOG ENTERTAINING AND INFORMATIVE.”

Maybe that’ll work. Then I can have all the online friends in the world! Right guys? Guys?helloooo-oooo…

Ugh. Depressing bent again.

In a somewhat less depressing bent, I’m going to go watch terrible movies and make fun of them tonight. MST3K style. For those of you who don’t know what MST3K is, Google it, watch it, love it.

Wow, is that two imperatives in the same post? Man, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Hmm… what else…

Ah, I had my first test of the year this past Thursday in Old Testament. The professor has a reputation for devilishly (snicker) hard test questions, and I wasn’t very capable of studying, so the stress induced insomnia kicked in and kept me up until after 4:30am. Don’t feel too bad for me though, the test was 50 multiple choice questions and I finished it in the first 15 minutes of an hour long class. Easy stuffs. We’ll see what sort of grade I got on Tuesday, but I’m fairly confident.

mmm… coffee…

speaking of coffee, I really should do my homework. What? Yeah…

hmm… bi-weekly problem set, one-page, single spaced research paper on early Christianity, the book of Joshua, evangelism scenario, some early Christian fathers, bit of Pacific Northwest History… I’d better get cracking if I want to go watch a movie in eight hours. (It’s noon as I write this, but no internet connection, so I’ll post it later.)

Another Beginner's Blog

Well hello!

Glad to see you’ve stumbled onto my little piece of the interblags in your web wanderings.

This is the first entry in what should be a series of essays, letters, journalings, what have you, about life as a 21-year-old Christian man at a small, church-affiliated university in Spokane, Washington.

Sound boring? Maybe.

Whether it is or not, I’m going to try and update this at least once every couple of weeks. May not happen, depending on the intensity of the various classes I’m taking, but I’ll try.

A little about me. I’m 21 (duh), a senior at the aforementioned small university, and as sarcastic as (almost) anyone I have ever had the pleasure to be around. I am a math major for fun with a theology major tacked on as a probable career path. Sound complicated? It is. I’ll detail it later. I enjoy good single malt scotch, good chewy beer, good tender steak, and good company. I have been known to smoke a pipe or two. My favorite pastimes are hunting, fishing, and hanging out with the wonderful collection of nerds I call friends. I wear glasses. I love reading all sorts of fiction. I drive a pickup. I was involved in theatre all through high school. I can cook up a mean dinner. I tend to be downright cowardly when it comes to asking a girl out. I think that a fusion of country and metal would be amazing. I drink a few energy drinks. Good coffee is amazing, bad coffee is one step down from a curse of God. If I see someone in trouble, my first instinct is to try and help. I am so white I almost burn in the shade. I get loquacious after 2am. Despite this, I try to be available as a 2am phone buddy when needed. I have a terrible time getting on any sort of sleep schedule.

Oh yeah, and I happen to be Christian. There’s that too. Little bit important. Just the driving force behind my moral framework is all. That thing I try to find my identity in (though I constantly have trouble doing so.)

And that’s it for me, for now. If you decide to come back and visit, you can find out more about the amalgamation of seemingly irreconcilable aspects that is me.