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I Think I've Been Lying To Myself

I saw myself in the mirror the other day, and I’ve been trying to cope with it ever since. There was this angle that I saw, made by the mirror of the medicine cabinet showing onto the bathroom mirror. You know the angle I’m talking about. It’s the one you try to avoid when taking pictures, because it’s not flattering. I didn’t like what I saw. But instead of going on with what I was doing, or turning some other way to reinforce my mental image of myself, I sat and stared at it for a while. I tried to burn the image into my mind. I did this because I think that’s the real me. I don’t mean the holistic me, but the physical me. And I wanted to try and change my mental to picture to be that image.

It caused some concern, because it’s not the way I picture myself. And to believe that I look differently than I’ve been picturing myself, means that I’ve made myself believe a lie. And in fooling myself, I’ve allowed some things to happen that I wanted to pretend were otherwise. This kind of thinking lead me to similar areas of concern. What if all the things I’ve thought I was talented at, I’m not actually that good at them. Not that I’m terrible, but maybe I am terrible, or just mediocre at best. What if I am just a poor or mediocre guitarist, song writer, or singer. What if I’m just a poor or mediocre artist or designer. What if I’m just a poor or mediocre teacher or preacher. What if in all these areas that I’ve prided myself in having some kind of skill, I’m not really that talented.

I’ve always wanted to think of myself as extraordinary, as possessing the great talent to do great things. But of all of a sudden, I’m worried that I’m just average at best at all of them.

This World Is So Very Broken

Sometimes my heart just aches.

I subscribe to @cnnbrk on Twitter.com. Everyday I get greeted with some breaking news headline. And everyday, for the past two weeks, it seems like those headlines have been the most horrendous of events born from the darkest depths of humanity. Just to give you some highlights from the past 10 days:

“Austrian man imprisoned daughter for 24 years, pleads guilty to her rape and murder.”

“Former student kills 10 people at a school in Germany.”

“At least 25 people killed in suicide car bombing at reconciliation conference in Baghdad, Iraq.”

“A police officer was shot and killed in N. Ireland Monday, two days after murder of two British troops.”

“The pastor of a Maryville, Illinois, church was shot to death in front of parishioners during a service.”

And these are just the reported highlights I get to read. For every one of these headlines, I know there must be 100 or 1,000 times that many that I don’t know about. I read these things and my heart simply aches. Continue Reading…

Living outside the US, there is very little incentive not to pirate.

I used to be a mp3 downloader. In high school, I downloaded music by the gigs. I had an enormous collection of stolen music, so much so that I never got around to listening to all of it. Then, as I was pushing toward finishing college, I had this thought, “How long can I go on doing this?”

My rationale for stealing was that the music I listened to was hard to find and I didn’t have the money to purchase or order everything I liked. So, I made this deal with myself, if something was good enough to carry around in my CD case (Yep, I was rocking mp3’s before the advent of the iPod), then it was good enough to buy when I saw it in a store. This was good enough to get me through High School and most of college, but the reality of the internet and my financial circumstances were beginning to make this excuse very flimsy. Continue Reading…

You Are Not Alone

Re-posted from MySpace Blogs:

ACT I

A month ago I was in Chick-fil-a with two of my friends. They both work for the college our office is at, so we often have lunch together. On this particular day we went to Chick-fil-a, and shortly after getting my food, I went to use the restroom. While in the restroom, I heard something that was both strange and familiar.

Usually, when you enter the restroom of a dining establishment you hear some kind of music, either Muzak or satellite radio of a sort. On this day, though, there wasn’t music playing in the restroom, but something else. It was confusing at first, but I quickly figured out what it was: the sound of people ordering food. The drive-thru was being broadcasted over the restroom speakers. I sat there for a second listening to people order. I could hear orders, and I could hear the attendant’s response. This is when a strange feeling crept over me. Continue Reading…

Worst Case Scenario

Re-posted from MySpace Blogs:

About a month ago, one of my nightmares came true; I over slept for church.

Now, for your average church goer, this isn’t that big of a deal. The crisis for them lies only in trying to make the decision between staying in bed or showing up late. However, for a minister, there is nothing but panic. This is my job. I’ve got responsibilities. There are places I need to be. There are classes I have to teach. So, I forwent a shower, tried to get my hair in some kind of order, and desperately called my students, hoping I could get a hold of one of them, whilst I broke land-speed records on the way to church. Continue Reading…

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