Before and After

I'm procrastinating at the moment. I have a paper I don't want to write, that I'm avoiding like the plague.

I procrastinate when I'm unhappy. Specifically when I'm encountering an obstacle and it's part of something that I thought would make me happy.

I thought living off campus would make me happy (and, honestly those 3 years were amazing) but every time I had to wash the dishes, do laundry, or the mow the grass (I hate all repetitive non-rewarded tasks) I would procrastinate something fierce.

I would spray lemon scented kitchen/bathroom cleaner on my dishes so they could go another day without stinking up the house!

I would buy an extra shirt to make laundry days one day further apart!

At one point I almost broke my mower because I had to use it like a weedwacker instead of a mower!

Embarrassing, but all too true!

I can't make decisions based on my happiness quotient. I can't make decisions based on my happiness quotient. I can't make decisions based on my happiness quotient.

I need to be happy and then make my decisions. I need to be happy in the knowledge that I'm following God and move from there.

My sophomore year I weighed 316 pounds. I was really depressed about a number of things and I had been sick for a while. I decided that I was going to love myself no matter how fat I got and that I was going to be a happy person. I've lost 45 pounds since then. I'm down to 271. I'm going to buy a pair of jeans on Thursday ... a size 38 ... a size I outgrew in High School.

Before

This is from a play we did (I cropped out the other people because they would be embarrassed by this picture as well, but I think even without a comparison I still look huge)

After

Me and a pastor friend in the Philippines.

The funny thing is, I'm still happy. I didn't have to lose weight in order to be happy ... I had to be happy in order to lose the weight.

Maybe I need to be happy about writing this paper!

The new episode of Family Guy might just be the best episode yet. I'm so excited for this season. Reportedly, the next episode will be about jews. Score!

On Yom Kippur I elected to avoid light switches. It was a fun experiment.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

(lyrics are at the end of the post.)

Sufjan Stevens is an incredibly talented singer/songwriter. He is creating a set of CDs featuring each state. One of the songs from his Illinois album is about John Wayne Gacy Jr.

Honestly, your gut reaction when you hear the song will be that it is much too pretty to be about a serial killer.

The last few lines really sum it up.

Sufjan Stevens is a person of faith. His act isn't branded as a "Christian Band" and some Christians object to his attitude about being public about his faith. He says, "I don't like talking about that stuff in the public forum because, I think, certain themes and convictions are meant for personal conversation." But he's a person of faith, who writes openly and honestly about spiritual themes ... and compares himself to notorious serial killers.

John Wayne Gacy is in a special category of serial killers. He's the one that no one suspected and who never repented. His neighbors brought their children to his block parties to watch him perform as a clown. His dying words, as they brought him to the execution room, were "Kiss my ass."

Too much of "Christian music" is just awful. We listen to and sing songs that are simply lies. We tell God how much we want to praise Him more than anything else ... and most days, for most people in the pews - that's simply a lie. How many Christian recording artists have written beautiful lies about their never ending devotion to God only to end up recanting their faith or falling into scandal?

I applaud Sufjan Stevens for the courage it takes to be real and honest. I think the church would be in a much better place if we could live with this knowledge. God loves John Wayne Gacy. And God loves you.

His father was a drinker
And his mother cried in bed
Folding John Wayne's T-shirts
When the swingset hit his head
The neighbors they adored him
For his humor and his conversation
Look underneath the house there
Find the few living things
Rotting fast in their sleep of the dead
Twenty-seven people, even more
They were boys with their cars, summer jobs
Oh my God

Are you one of them?

He dressed up like a clown for them
With his face paint white and red
And on his best behavior
In a dark room on the bed he kissed them all
He'd kill ten thousand people
With a sleight of his hand
Running far, running fast to the dead
He took off all their clothes for them
He put a cloth on their lips
Quiet hands, quiet kiss
On the mouth

And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid

And sometimes the wind changes, sometimes we pray the wind will change. And always God is in control.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

We greet each other warmly. The swine flu prevents hands touching. We smile and bow our necks like dainty China dolls. We say words of affirmation; Korean mumbled by them, lost by my Anglophile ears. I'm sure it's pleasant and affirming. It's the closest I'll get to a hug for at least a few weeks.

Hugs are measured out, like sugar by a diabetic's baking wife. Not too many, scarcely any.

Sometimes my prayers consist of nothing more than statements. [[I hate waking up alone every day.]] or [[I know school will get paid for.]] or [[I'm tired.]] My heart doesn't dare ask, but refuses to remain silent. Truman Capote might have been on to something when he said, "More tears are shed by answered prayers than unanswered ones." Perhaps I'm too afraid to pray for the things I really want because I'm too afraid his statement is true. But I need God to know that I need something.

I mumble something back. My long angular body tries to muster a graceful neck bow - probably more Quasimodo than quaint Korean. I do appreciate their affirmation. I need all the affirmation I can get. I surround myself with affirming people; when I have options. Options are lacking from my life. [[I like Options, God.]]

It's like we have an understanding. I'm keeping God "in the loop." I make my statements with the full knowledge that God will act and that I may or may not be pleased by the result - but at least, if the situation gets worse, I can say, [[I didn't ask for this...]] and it will be true by technicality.

I remember the time Lori told The Awkward Story. Lori is a beloved, single, female clergy friend. She taught me a lot about living gracefully through a bad situation. Intimacy with God is one of those sujects that most pastors would sterilize beyond recognition - all fuzzy feelings and no pain and desire. Lori refused. She told a story from her life as part of her sermon on the subject. She explained the lonliness of being "a single gal" in her forties. She prayed for comfort, for a companion. And she literally felt God embrace her in the bed.

It was the most uncomfortable, awkward moment I've ever experienced in church. It was the most beautiful gift she could ever give. In a culture where make-up is a necessity for a woman to take out the trash and no one is ever really honest about anything; her frank honesty about the most intimate aspects of life was shocking and beautiful. It might be the closest we will ever get to honesty.

Perhaps my smile gives away the utter truth that I don't know what words are being shared. I wish I knew, [[I like knowing what's going on.]] I wish I could comprehend. But more, I wish I could lean in for a hug and feel one second of connection with someone here.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

Do you know what QWERTY is? If you look to the top left of your keyboard you will see the acronym used for the common configuration of letters on keyboards. When typewriters first came out the letters were in Alphabetical order. This made sense to everyone at the time. The problem occurred as typists got better at typing and typewriters couldn’t keep up. The keys would get stuck, the teethy spokes would get clogged together.

My mother had a typewriter when I was little. She pulled it out once a week to write a letter to grandma. I loved playing with that typewriter. I would just bang on the keys and watch the twines get intertwined. Mom hated it when I pulled that stunt.

But that was a daily occurrence when the letters were arranged in a common sense fashion. So someone hired someone (fact checking is for sissies) to come up with a completely ridiculous new system. Thus QWERTY was born. It was literally designed to slow us down.

Today we don't have the problem of a machine that needs our fingers to move more slowly - our fingers could move much, much faster without any problem at all for any of our modern machines - but, who wants to change something we already all know?

Fun Fact: In Korean Typewriters the vowels are the keys on the right and the consonants are found on the left. The more you know.

When it comes to the church I don’t think anyone was intentional in trying to slow us down. I think it was (and is) a natural process. We are slowed down by any number of things. Routine, tradition, theology, etc. None of these things is bad in its own right (just like there’s nothing inherently wrong with having E next to W on a keypad) but the culmination is an ineffective church – which is a bad thing.

It is a proven fact that long monologues (sermons) are the least efficient means of communication we attempt. Sermons really only resonate with about a third of the population. Most people retain less than 10% of a sermon. [For proof of this, think back to the sermon last Sunday and try and write up an outline. Good luck.] However, most of our churches would never dream of scrapping the sermon. We got QWERTY'd.

We have worship wars. People who don't like hymns don't like people who don't like "the new stuff" (antidisestablishmentarianism at its finest) and we all forget that worship isn't about music. It’s about the heart. We got QWERTY’d.

It's incredibly frustrating for young adults in the church. We watch as each piece of tradition bogs down another chance for change. Sometimes churches try to do good by highlighting the accomplishments of young people, but they end up sounding old, outdated and stodgy.

The business world hasn't moved past the QWERTY problem, yet. So, I don't feel so bad for the church. I think it's even possible that we will solve our problem long before the world moves past QWERTY.

Theological Thoughts for Thursday

I have dreams of being an old man. I wake up and feel so uncomfortable. I have no earthly desire for old age.

When our family cat died, my mother was devastated. She cried for weeks at the sight of his hair. She made a little scrapbook and keeps a bag full of his hair.

It's not that I have some plan or premonition. I just think that I will die young. 15% of people my age think we will die young. By young I mean in my forties or fifties.

But I could die today with a great sense of satisfaction and joy with my life. Every time I'm taking off in an airplane I thank God for a long and productive life. I realize that I've accomplished more in 22 years than most people do in 80.

Great Grandma Gillotti lived to be 97. When she died I was very, very sad. I was 7. Mom comforted me by explaining that she wanted to go to heaven. All of her friends were in heaven. Her one wish had been that she would die with her husband (like in a car crash or together in their bed) but that he had died almost 30 years before she did.

Mom was a little sad too. I think deep down that she realized she would share her grandmother's fate. I imagine mom will live to be 100. If her eyesight could hold out and she could continue to play the organ into her oldest age I imagine she would go on indefinitely. I think mom will die at her organ. She'll be playing one moment here on earth and the next moment she'll be playing in heaven. She won't even miss a note, in true Debbie fashion.

I lost a friend to suicide this summer. It made being here, away from everyone I love, ten times harder. I'm still sad about it. I think I will be for a long time to come.

We sometimes have a terrible fear of death. We don't talk about it. It's taboo. Even when I re-read this post I find it morbid. It's not an okay subject to talk about.

I bought a decorative soap from the youth at my church. I haven't used it. I decided it was too nice and too pretty to use. While I was gone on vacation it melted and molded. It shrunk and grew a weird film over it.

This is how I feel about life and death. We can't take life so seriously that we don't enjoy it. We never know when it will be gone. Or ... when it will grow a weird film.