My Heart Overflows, My Heart Grieves

I'm finding myself more and more overwhelmed by God's grace every day.  My heart yearns to know Him more.

Words want to pour from my mind, through my fingertips as I type, proclaiming Christ as King, exalting Him above all others, but all the words I have to give don't even scratch the surface of God's majesty.

Why does God love me?  Why wasn't I wiped out of existence and sentenced to hell after my first sin?  Why does He continue to love me even though I continue to fail Him?  Why is His grace renewed every morning?

I recently found a list of "fighter verses" recommended to memorize.  I know a few verses of scripture, but nowhere near as many as I should.  I started this memorization program to equip myself with biblical truth, to hide God's word in my heart so that I might not sin, to be wise in Him, not in the world.  Memorizing scripture is not an easy task, and too often I hear (from my own lips, even) "I don't have a good memory" or "I don't have enough time." 

Bull crap.  Pure and simple.  Inexcusable excuses.  Lies from satan to keep you out of the bible, defeated, burdened, and ensnared.

My heart grieves for our world.  How can we profess love of God and abstain from spending time with Him?  Do you love your kids?  Do you want them to spend more time with you?  Does it not break your heart when they don't?  This is the same for God.  The chief end for man is to glorify God!  It's why we were created, and yet where do our hearts lie?

They lie in routine, in comfortable pews and lazy idleness.  They lie, ultimately, in our own selfish behaviors.  I am convinced that those* that do not follow Jesus choose not to follow Him because of how they see so many "Christians" acting.  To be a Christian is to follow Christ, acting as He would, loving God and loving people.  And how do you love someone?  You spend time with them.  You intentionally invest time a relationship, going above and beyond normal protocol and acting unexpectedly, oftentimes against personal preferences and certainly into the realms of awkwardness/uncomfortableness.

My heart grieves for our dying generations, for people choosing to pursue selfish desires instead of selfless ones.  It hurts to know that there are lost people that do not know the true message of Christ and they're dying without Him.  It hurts me even more to know that there are people that do know the true message, and yet they're too self-absorbed/apathetic to do anything about it.  And, most of all, it hurts me to know there are Christians--followers of Jesus the Christ--that aren't acting as a follower of the Christ.

Matthew 7:21-23 is a sobering passage of scripture. 

21 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. 22 On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ 23 And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’

It's time to wake up and start acting like Jesus.  It's time to start loving God and following His commandments, which Jesus broke down to two: Love God, Love People.  Otherwise, like Deuteronomy 7:9,10 says:

9 Know therefore that the Lord your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations, 10 and repays to their face those who hate him, by destroying them. He will not be slack with one who hates him. He will repay him to his face.

My heart breaks for the world, yet it overflows with the rich promises of God, that to those that love Him and follow Him, He will never leave or forsake us.

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*To be clear, a Christian** is not one who judges, not one who condemns, not one who looks down on, not one who hates, not one who is prideful, not one who holds grudges and forgives not.  These actions are not in accordance with a Jesus-shaped person.  The Christ loved everyone and spent His ministry with the poor and broken people of Israel.  If we're emulating Jesus and following His words, these actions ought not be in our lives.

Know, then, those of you that have been hurt or turned-off from Christianity because of these types of actions (and more) that not all who follow Jesus act this way and I apologize for the poor behavior of my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.  I pray that you've not been too jaded to give Jesus another chance.

**That's not to say that a Christian won't display these actions, but doing so is sinful, but to be human is to be in a fallen world of sin.  Only the love and sanctification of Jesus can overcome our sinful selves, and sanctification is a lifelong process.  Daily we are to die and take up the cross and follow Jesus, fighting the fight and overcoming the world.

Remembering Louisville

Saturday afforded me the chance to return to my college town.  Keisha had a Pampered Chef conference downtown and she had to be there early.  I offered to drive, and together we hit the road before 5am, crossing the CST/EST time zone and journeying into the future.  I dropped her off at the site, walked her to the door, and spent the rest of the day largely alone.

I say alone.  Perhaps I should use a different word, as I wasn't alone, per se, but I was in no one's immediate company, either.  Truly, in a city as populated as Louisville, being alone is probably a thing more of the mind.  Anyway, I spent the morning in my favorite coffee shop, Sunergos.  I enjoyed going there and studying, listening to the mellow tunes and breathing the pleasing aroma of coffee.  So I ordered me a plain coffee and sat at a table and read for four hours.  I started with a little bible study, and after that I read a massive chunk of the unpublished manuscript I'm reviewing.  All I can say is that it's a piece of solid writing with a very interesting magical system and some fascinating world history.  I wish the author the best at getting it published.

As lunch time neared, I packed up my stuff and headed off to my favorite deli, Franks.  It's hard to describe how perfect, how amazing Frank's is.  Their cold-cut sandwiches are cheap and unbeatable in taste.  I got a roast beef and colby with lettuce on wheat for $3.  That may seem high, but the claim to fame for Frank's is that there's enough meat and filling on the sandwiches that it's hard to finish.  I've ordered sandwiches from there before and taken off enough meat to fix me another lunch from the excess.  This sandwich was a good 4.5-5.5" thick, if not more, and it was very filling.

After I had my lunch I drove to campus and parked behind the engineering buildings.  Saturday was nice and sunny, not too cool, so I walked from the parking lot over to the library, taking my time and remembering campus.  A lot's changed since I graduated.  It's been two years since I sat foot on UofL's grounds, but it was still very much the same campus.  My afternoon at the library went a lot like the morning.  I ate and read, a little from the STAR WARS book, but mostly from the manuscript.

This doesn't sound terribly exciting, spending a day cooped up inside reading, but I have to say, I quite enjoyed myself.  The joy ended when Keisha and I decided to drive to the mall.  The mall of St. Matthews is a somewhat special place to us.  You see, I proposed to my wife at this mall.  I didn't plan to propose at this mall, but it just kinda happened.

I planned to propose beneath the fireworks and heavenly spectacle of Thunder Over Louisville.  I planned to take her to the river and get down on one knee.  Instead, that darned ring in my pocket kept whispering things to me, making vain promises and offering visions of grandeur.  We were at the mall, sitting outside the JC Pennys beneath a copse of indoor trees and beside a mediocre fountain.  Things get a little blurry, but I vaguely remember kneeling and mumbling and talking and saying a bunch of stuff about love and that stuff and pulling out a ring and people looking at us and her face and...  Yeah.  I hadn't planned on proposing there, but it just happened.  The Precious willed it so...

I don't know why, but the city's entire population was converged at or near the St. Matthews mall.  We idled in traffic for a long time before finally getting to the mall, and then we idled more as we waited forever to find a parking spot.  Red Robbin (yum) was good for dinner, but after that we were ready to get the heck out of the city.

It's a shame.  There are so many wonderful things about Louisville that I love and miss.  However, there's plenty there to keep me far away, too, like the radiation.  I guess now that the meteor's fallen and decimated the town I'll never get to go back again.  Too bad, too.  I wonder if my alma mater will rise above the wastes and request donations to help rebuild?  Did the coffee shop survive?  News reports say that there weren't many survivors, and those that did have some kind of weird glow about them now and they're all quarantined in some secret location.  I guess it's good that we got out of the city before it happened, eh?

Happy Valentine's day!

Dead Space 2, a Review

In the year 2511 in a densely populated city called the Sprawl, Isaac Clarke wakes up wearing a straight jacket.  Things are disorienting and dark.  A man is standing in front of him talking quickly as if something is wrong.  He's telling Isaac that he's got to get out of the Sprawl, that they've got to go now.  Before he has a chance to free Isaac's bonds, a necromorph attacks the man from behind, impaling him with its razor-sharp limbs.  Isaac shrugs the man and monster aside and begins running for his life, through dark and ruined corridors.  All around necromorphs are appearing, snarling and pursing Isaac as he flees.  So begins Dead Space 2.

The game is a direct sequel to the bestselling Dead Space.  It continues the story that began with the events that happened aboard the USG Ishimura and the return of the Marker.  The Church of Unitology is expanded more, as is the science and culture of the times.  The Sprawl is located on a shard of Titan, a moon of Saturn, and this metropolis is basically one large space station.  Schools, hospitals, churches, malls, and many other sites exist in the city and all fall to the destruction of the necromorphs.

Throughout the game, Isaac makes his way around the city, looking for a way to stop the dementia affecting his mind and to stop the affects of the Marker.  On his journey he must work out many puzzles (good thing he's an engineer) to get through the wasted city. 

Many things are similar between the first and second games.  Gameplay is practically identical.  Isaac still walks around in his rig, armed with stasis and kinesis modules, as well as any weapons he may find along the way.  Unlike the first game, Isaac talks this time around, and this change adds more tension to the story I believe.  Also, simple jumps in zero gravity are no longer limited to linear directions, as Isaac's rigs have thrusters in their boots that allow for full 3d movement in space.  Another difference is the increased graphics and sounds.  Dead Space 2 offers a much richer A/V experience, many of which grip the player with fear and tension.  Muffled screams and babies crying behind sealed doors are somewhat unsettling.  Also with DS2, Isaac can use kinesis to pick up rods and impale the necromorphs if he's running low on ammo, or he can just tear a limb from a dead monster and use that.

Another major addition to this game is the creation of an onlline multiplayer option.  The multiplayer has two opposing teams: CEC troops and necromorphs.  Like a standard capture the flag game, the CEC team has tasks that need accomplishing in order to win the round.  The necromorphs task is always to thwart the humans.  Playing as both teams is fun, especially since the necromorphs can see where CEC troops are located, while CEC is forced to trust their instincts.

I was very pleased with the gameplay and plot of Dead Space 2.  The campaign takes about 13-15 hours to complete, but replay-ability is a certainty.   There are many new types of necromorphs, like the Swarm (see right), little children that are now lethal little pests that swarm and overwhelm Isaac. Several difficulty modes exist, from easy to hardcore, which allows the player only three save points and no checkpoints, less ammo & health, and more difficult enemies.  There is the right amount of sci-fi and horror blended together to make the game very fun, and I suspect any fan of survival horror (which, oddly enough, I'm not) would enjoy this.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed Dead Space 2.  One does not have to be familiar with the first to enjoy this, as there is a "Previous on Dead Space" menu option available to bring newcomers up to par; however, to get the most from the story, I would highly recommend it.  Now I'm ready for the next chapter...

The Beginning Reader's Bible, a Review

Just by looking at The Beginning Reader's Bible I knew I had a real treasure on my hands.  The book is heavy and durable, enriched with a strong cover and crisp, glossy pages.  I requested the book because I thought it looked nice and that it would be perfect for little children.  After opening the package and seeing the actual book in front of me, I knew I was correct.

The Beginning Reader's Bible is aimed for young readers (as evidenced by the title) who still like a lot of pictures with their text.  The scripture all comes from the ICB (International Children's Bible translation), which simplifies the text so that a child can easily understand.  The entire bible is not included here, but a sampling of stories from both the Old Testament and the New.

The most astonishing thing about this book is how beautiful and rich the illustrations are.  Each page, each story, they've all been lavished with attention by Marijke ten Cate.  The characters look authentic and fitting.  The landscapes are breathtaking.  Even the animals are wonderfully drawn.  Yes, this bible's illustrations are sure to capture the young person's attention as they've captured mine.

To make the Word even more engaging, there are many extras to help drive home the point.  "Do God's Word" or "Pray God's Word."  Boxes like this pop up all over the place.  They're great to let little ones learn, memorize, and apply God's word.  There's also some supplemental resources at the back, listing the apostles, 10 commandments, and things like this.

Overall, it's really the illustrations that stand out with this book.  The scripture is great to instruct young ones, but I think they'll fall in love with the pictures and then listen to the Word.  This is a great little bible that I look forward to sharing with my children.

FTC Thingy: This book was given to me free of charge by Thomas Nelson & Booksneeze in exchange for an honest review.  No cookies were exchanged.  Honest.

(By the way, if you want to get an idea of what Cate's illustrations look like, check out this page.  These images aren't exactly in the Bible, but close enough.)

Updates! Baby, Life, Movies, Games, Etc.

Chiefly being that we found out yesterday the sex of our baby, plus some ultrasound pictures, and other stuff.
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1.  Stewart Little, as we've affectionately been calling the fetus, is now sexed, or at least is now sexed to us.  Keisha and I are proud to say that we're having a GIRL.  So it's gonna be me, Keisha, Stewart Little, Stella, and Sofie.  I say I'm vastly outnumbered here...

Aren't those images crazy?  Watching the little bugger squirm and kick and move and punch and everything yesterday was quite surreal, and it's amazing to know that I helped make her.  See the little feet!  The face still looks alien and skeletal, but I'm smitten.  It was funny how hyper and active she was, too, but everything looked great and healthy, and we thank God for that.

2.  We ordered our crib, changing table, and dresser last night from JC Penny.  I applied for a credit card to save an additional 10% off, was approved, and then found out my limit was $50 less than what the total cost was.  So I called Penny's and requested an immediate credit increase of $100 and got that taken care of.  Then I went to finish the purchase and was asked to enter my credit card info, which I didn't have as I had no card yet, so I made another phone call.  Everything was going well until my phone died about 20 minutes into the call, so I had to call back and repeat the entire process.   All said and done, I spent about 45 minutes on the phone working it all out, but in the end we got our stuff ordered and now we're waiting for the backorder to fill and ship.

3.  My paycheck is currently 19 days late, which is to say that I'm technically due two checks, as another is now 5 days late.  This is confusing, as my firm was awarded a 10+ million dollar contract recently (though obviously we've seen no money from this yet, as the project is in its early infancy).  I simply ask for your prayers in all this stuff, knowing God will provide and take care, but it's quite stressful, too.

4.  My brother returned from Afghanistan over the weekend, and I got to see him on Saturday.  We spent an hour or so sitting around and just talking, and it was great.  I'm very thankful God watched over him and kept him safe.  His unit encountered Taliban forces 41 times, and he was part of about 35 of those encounters, so God definitely saw to him.

5.  My reading life is hectic.  I'm listening to an audio book at work (Terry Brooks' Bearers of the Black Staff), and nearly finished.  I'm finally reading a STAR WARS book that I've been waitlisted on for a while.  I also checked out Joe Abercrombie's The Heroes (so many great reviews already) yesterday, which was purchased by my request to the library.  I really want to start this soon, as I won't be able to renew it, since its waitlist is already growing.  And then I'm reading an unpublished manuscript for someone, which has been quite enjoyable so far, and I'm about halfway through that.  And then there's the smattering of graphic novels and comics I need to read and return.  (Oh, and let's not even consider the time I'm spending playing Dead Space 2.)  All of this on my plate and knowing Pat Rothfuss' The Wise Man's Fear will be shipped to my house come early March.  So much to read...

6.  As for Dead Space 2, it's been phenomenal.  It's captured all of the terror and features of gameplay the first one had and upped the graphics and added better controls.  The plot has been crazy; the necromorphs plentiful; the fear tense.  I've only got a chapter or two left before I beat the game, and I've really enjoyed this play through.

7.  We watched two James Bond films over the weekend: Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace.  Neither Keisha nor myself have seen much (or any) of Bond, but we both liked these movies.  Daniel Craig does great, and I'm looking forward to diving into more Bond, especially adding the older ones onto my Netflix queue.

8.  So much going on in life right now that there's no way I could cover it all.  At times I'm stressed.  Other times I'm amazed.  Sometimes I'm sickened and dismayed.  Through it all I look to Jesus and try to live like Him.  I fail, I know, but I try.

iShine NLT Bible (for Girls), a Review

The iShine Bible NLT (for Girls) is a low-frills, basic bible designed for tween girls in a contemporary society.  I was expecting more features from this, but instead there are three supplemental sections aimed at girls to let them know that to God they are a VIP and a smattering of helpful footnotes for reading.

My favorite thing about this bible is the opening section.  There are several pages of common questions people ask in life, such as "Is it okay to ...?" or "Why does ...?"  This Q&A section is simplistic and useful for a questioning tween, and all answers give scriptural references for consultation or further reading.  Also, as mentioned above, the bible makes use of footnotes, and some of these are helpful for the reader.

The bible itself is fine, and the language of the NLT is great for this age group.  However, the text may be too small or too close together for some to optimally use.  The big disappointment was the lack of flair.  Only three sections, a scant 30 pages or so, exist to make this bible targeted for tween girls.  These sections are standouts, as they're highly glossy and colorized, filled with images of today's teens.  Personally, if I were in this age group I think I would be looking for something more interactive, more personal, more engaging, not something that is shiny to look at.

That said, the bible is commendable for its pink cover and its compact size.  If a girl is wanting a pink, girly bible that's easy to read, the iShine Bible NLT (for girls) is perfect.  But if they're wanting something more in-depth, this is not the one for them.

Note: There is also a version of this bible available for boys in the same age group, and I imagine it is the exact same but for color and the three VIP sections.

FTC Thing: I received this book freely from Tyndale Publishers in exchange for an honest review.

Flash Fiction Friday: The Hanging

     It’s not everyday they hang a fourteen year old boy. ‘Course it’s not too often you get one as mean as Willem Coolidge, either. But the day’s finally came and Pa told me that I could go watch despite Ma’s saying otherwise. He told her he had half a mind to make her go too, just to put her in her place, I reckon. She piped down pretty quick after that. Willem was my friend and it’s only right I should see him off.
     So me, Jamie, and Pa loaded up the horses and headed into town. Had a full day’s worth of chores to get to before the hanging and Pa never was one to dawdle. We got to town and Pa dropped me off at the jail and told me to stay put until he came back. Said Willem was askin’ for me.
     “Can Jamie stay with me?” I asked him.
     “Naw, I need his help with the corn. You’ll be alright. That boy’s still your friend ain’t he?”
     Well Pa had the truth in him. Willem was still my friend and I guess he deserved some company, being his last day and all.
     “Good girl,” Pa said. “I won’t be gone too long.”
     Willem was sitting on the bed all alone inside his cell. The sheriff knew me and Willem were friends, so he let me in his cell with only a common sense warning. Now I ain’t never been locked up before, ‘specially not with an accused cold-blooded killer, and I have to say it’s not a feeling I want to experience again. There’s just something indescribably awful about the sound of iron slamming shut.
     I sat next to Willem on the bed. Our feet were dangling off the side like they would when we sat out at the lake and fished.
     “Hey Willem,” I said.
     “Hmm.”
     I didn’t know what to say. What can you say to someone that’s never gonna get to see another sunrise? Or hear another church choir sing? Or eat another potluck dinner? I didn’t know then and I don’t know now.
      We sat there in silence for a long time. The sheriff scribbled on some papers or read the Herald or smoked his cigar. People came in and out, but nobody to see Willem. The boy was an orphan and a drifter, tossed around town after town. Somehow me and him connected. Might’ve been his cute eyes or his lanky arms, I don’t know. Coulda been that almost-white hair he had.
     After a time the sheriff brought us some lunch. I didn’t much feel like eating, so I gave mine to Willem. He chomped down his stuff without a word, eating as much from routine as from it just gave him something to do.
     “I ain’t sorry I did it,” he said abruptly. I almost jumped out of my skin. His voice was so quiet, like he was already dead.
     “What?” I don’t know if I said the word or not, but he kept on talkin’ like I did.
     “I was out at Jack’s house hammerin’ some boards on the barn. The windstorm a few weeks back knocked off some planks and he was too frail to get up and do the work hisself so he hired me to do it for him. Five dollars negotiated. I didn’t finish the first day and asked if I could stay over for the night to finish in the mornin’. He didn’ look too pleased that I didn’ get it done and went a complainin’ about being ungrateful and stealin’ from him. Said he was gonna have to take off fifty cents for lodging and another fifty if’n I wanted food for the night. I haggled him down to fifty cents total and he let me stay in the den and sleep in front of the fire.
     “After he went to sleep I lay there thinkin’ about my life and my Ma ‘n Pa and what they woulda been like. I could hear Jack snorin’ deep and I wished sore bad that I had me a family. But I knew I never would. I felt it in my soul that night, El. Lookin’ into the fire as the logs died I felt the certainty that this was it and I didn’ have nothin’ left to live for. It was like somethin’ went off in my brain and the next thing I know I’m standin’ over Jack’s dead body.”
     He was looking down at the floor, eyes never finding mine.
     “I coulda ran. I coulda fled town an’ nobody’d knowed, but I didn’. I went and fixed me another plate a’ ham and watched the fire until the sun came up. Then I went out and finished hammerin’ them boards up on the barn. After that I took four-fifty from Jack’s billfold and made my way here to the sheriff and told ‘im what I done.”
     Willem finally looked up at me. His eyes were the empty sockets of a skull, unseeing and far-off. I don’t know if he was looking for a response or not, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
     “Did you talk to Jesus, Willem?”
     No recognition came to his eyes, but he did crack a smile. It’s the smile that’s haunted me to this day. Not the lifeless eyes or the sound of his neck breaking later on. Not the fact that they had to put sandbags on his feet to give him extra weight for the drop so he’d die proper. The smile. Cocked slightly and teeth showing. It looked alien on his face.
     “Jesus don’t know me, El. I learned that early on. He ain’t got no place for me.”
     “Jesus has a place for everybody. You just gotta ask for forgiveness and He’ll save ya.”
     Pa came in then and the room changed. I searched Willem’s eyes again for some sort of acknowledgment, but I saw nothing. No fear. No hope. Just acceptance. The sheriff let me out of the cell and Pa asked if I said all I needed to say. I said I had and that was that.
     I’m not sure if Willem ever asked for forgiveness or not.

 

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Word Count: 1039

Coffee, a Puzzle, and An Unexpected Rant

It all starts with coffee.  Fresh ground coffee.  The kind of stuff that wants to be imbibed immediately.  Usually it is, paired with some 1% milk to give it a boost of flavor and distinction.  The rest is hermetically sealed in my less-than-good stainless steel thermos and carted off to work, where I'm forced to quickly down two or three more cups if I want anything resembling hot coffee.  Typically the first cup is fine.  Enjoyable.  Savored.  I'm doing good and the world is going well.  Then I pour the second cup.  My mouth is not ready for more brew, nor are my stomach and bladder, but they're gonna take it whether they like it or not.  I wind up regretting this choice almost every time.  Halfway through the cup I'm sick of coffee.  I'm sick of how it tastes and how it makes me feel.  I'm sick of the bitterness left on my tongue and the yearning for the bathroom.  I usually just throw the dregs down in one quick shot, wincing and convulsing--literally shuddering sometimes.  And then it's over.

I find myself wondering why.  Probably because I paid for the stuff and I'm danged well gonna get my money out of it.  But really, is physical and emotional anguish worth the few paltry dollars spent on coffee beans?  I don't know.  Perhaps I should invest in a new thermos, one that will keep stuff hotter for longer than one hour.  Then I would have all day to enjoy the rich tasting aroma that makes coffee a favorable drink.  Until then, I'll stick with my failed thermos.*

For any wordsmiths out there, yesterday's puzzle (from my daily puzzle calendar**) was quite challenging.  I'll repeat it here below.

None of the answers below contain an A, E, I, N, T, or S - six of the most commonly used letters in English.  Answers 1 to 5 are nine letters long; answer 6 is eleven letters and is the longest common word that lacks any of the six letters mentioned above.

1. Groundhog
2. Never-failing, as a method
3. Machinery that runs as a timepiece
4. Study of Earth's water
5. Nonsense; hogwash
6. Green pigment in photosynthesis

Good luck.  I was particularly happy with #4 since I took a lot of classes in this during my college years, and my job is heavily involved in it.  This calendar has been pretty fun and occasionally challenging. 

So Sunday is the Super Bowl.  This is the first year I've actually ever sat down and watched football intentionally, and I have to say, I'm looking forward to the game.  Granted the team I was rooting for (Colts!) didn't make it, but still, I'll be interested to just watch and experience the Big Game.  Service has been moved for the Youth to someone's house and I've been asked to help lead a little worship service at the start of the festivities.  A year ago I would've said no, no way, find somebody else, heck no, no, No.  But I simply said sure, no problem this year.

I'm astonished at how far I've come.  And lest anyone think I'm boasting, it's all for the glory of Jesus Christ, that God will be exalted and worshiped.  Without His help I would be nothing.  I see my guitar playing and my singing as gifts that God has blessed me with, and while I think I play and sing merely mediocre, I now no longer care.  I do it not to be heard or seen, but that the Spirit can move and lift up the name of Jesus and that the Youth will grow in their faith and will have no fears when serving God.  After all, a follower of Christ living in fear is only defeated by themselves. 

I used to say no because I was scared and timid.  Stepping up was uncomfortable and God had other people that could do the work.  But the more I read the Bible (especially Matthew), the more I realized that Jesus called us to be uncomfortable, to be in awkward situations.  It takes faith to step out into awkwardness, an attitude of the heart that says God, I trust in You that You know what You're doing.  And in that faithfulness, whether we see any fruit of our labors or not, His will is working.  It is this that has led me to stepping out and stepping up.  Too many "Christians" are sitting comfortably in their traditions, in their pews, in their hearts, that they've grown lazy and stagnant in their faith.  As the adage says, "If you're not moving forward, you're going backwards."  That's very true with God.  He hates lukewarm; He spews it from His mouth.

This same sentiment extends well outside the doors of Christianity.  If you're going to commit to something, commit, don't just sign up and stay uninvolved.  Who wants a benchwarmer on their team?  Or an occasional paladin?  No one.  I suppose it's our fallen human nature that wants to stay complacent and lazy, but this must be bypassed in order to live a life worth living.  It's easy to come home and plop down in front of the tv or pick up a book.  Get involved in your own world.  Ignore the rest.  That selfish attitude is simple.  Everybody's good at that.  But that's not living life.

It takes work, uncomfortableness, awkwardness, and effort to truly live.  How does a family grow if you give it no time?  Or how does a community grow, or any other relationship?  Relationships are a fundamental part of a functioning, meaningful, committed life, be it with friends, family, church members, or strangers on the street.  And the only way to grow relationships is by getting up and stepping out.  It's like in KOTOR 2: "Apathy is death."

.......I don't know what happened.  I was going one way and I ended up with a rant.  Sorry.  So, uh, happy Thursday?  I've got a new flash fic piece for tomorrow that I'm really proud of.  Hope you read it and enjoy it. After I read it to Keisha she said "you are one twisted person."  That's the kind of response I like.

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*The thermos used to work, but due to my negligence (i.e., it not being dishwasher safe), I ruined the rubber seal, so the thermos seeps out heat.  Something something thermodynamics...

**This comes from THE MENSA PUZZLE CALENDAR 2011.  Not sure who came up with the riddle or I'd give them credit.  The box the calendar came in says by Mark Danna and Fraser Simpson, so I'll give them credit.

Hellboy: Volumes 9 & 10, Reviewed

The Wild Hunt is possibly the best graphic collection so far in the Hellboy universe. The artwork is beautiful (Duncan Fegredo is amazing), especially the huntsmen. The plot is crazy-good, partially because I've always been a fan of Arthurian legends and partially because so much happens in this volume.

Hellboy's destiny still calls, and we wonder how long he can refuse. Also, the antagonist's identity becomes known, and this makes the arc better for it, instead of waiting around for a long time before a reveal.

If you've read the previous eight volumes of Hellboy, then you'll likely read this one as well. Otherwise, I wouldn't recommend starting here, but if you did I would think it'd be enough to get you to read the rest of the story.

The Wild Hunt was a remarkable volume in the grand story arc of Hellboy's life.  Wonderful.

***

I love these Hellboy short tales. The Crooked Man and Others contains four short stories, and all of them were enjoyable.

"The Crooked Man" is the longest arc and Mignola's first foray into American folklore. He chose the Appalachian region for his setting and source material, and I loved it. The artwork was different than the normal Hellboy style, but the change was fitting to this piece. I really liked the illustrations of the Crooked Man, and I thought this dark tale was great for the creepiness.

"They That Go Down to the Sea in Ships" is possibly the greatest art style I've seen in Hellboy. Each panel was beautiful, especially those of Blackbeard. The story was fast-paced and filled with the usual paranormal-ness of Hellboy and I really enjoyed this piece.

"In the Chapel of Moloch" is simple and straightforward. Hellboy is sent to investigate something for the BPRD and encounters problems. Nothing special for this piece other than the fact that Mignola illustrated it and his work is always nice to see.

"The Mole" was a short, fun piece with great illustrations and a somewhat humorous plot. Essentially, Hellboy has a mole on his hand that needs looking at.

Overall, Volume 10: The Crooked Man and Others offers some gems in the Hellboy catalog, and this collection is worth it for the inclusion of the first two stories alone. Any fan of the series should read this volume.

***

That's it for now.  I've read all ten volumes and have loved them all.  If you've not read this series and are a fan of paranormal/occultish type things with a heavy dose of world folklore, this is a must read.  Not only is the art beautiful throughout, but the stories and development of Hellboy's character make for fascinating reads.

The only collection I've got left to read is Hellboy: Masks and Monsters, which features Hellboy, Starman, and Batman, which may or may not make for an interesting read.  I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the continuity of the Hellboy universe or the DC one or neither, but I guess I'll find out.  I'm unsure when the next TPB collection will come out, so this could be it for a while.

The Dragon and the Turtle Go on Safari, a Review

The Dragon and the Turtle Go on Safari is a cute kids book about a turtle named Roger and a dragon named Padraig. The two decide to spend an entire night out camping, beneath the stars and alone all by themselves. While out, the familiar spooks and noises born from childhood imagination appear, and Roger and Padraig struggle to endure the long night.

One thing I thought funny (and somewhat bizarre) was the high, Old English language the two buddies used to speak to one another. "I say my good man..." "Capital!" "Jolly ho." This stuff was fun to read but slightly odd.

The illustrations (by Vincent Nguyen) are all beautiful and rich. Many forest animals appear and all are drawn very child-friendly. The night landscapes are also pretty. The book is a very full and vivid picture book for young readers.

The themes are great for young kids, teaching them the values of friendship and of helping others. Also, on the back cover of the book there is a collection of questions to ask your kids to prompt them to respond to the story.

Overall, The Dragon and the Turtle Go on Safari is a fun book for young children that teaches good morals and tells a fun story along with it. There is a lot of verbiage, so a parent may be used to help younger readers. 

FTC Thing: I received this book for free from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for this review. 

First Impressions: The Decemberists, Iron & Wine, and Dead Space 2

The King is Dead

 The Decemberists have been one of my favorite bands since I discovered them a year or two ago.  I love practically every song in their catalog.  The King is Dead was getting mad reviews before the album came out a week ago, and now after listening to the thing several times, I know why.  The opening song "Don't Carry it All" sets the pace & tone for the rest of the album.  Fun, light-hearted, and very Americana in sound, the entire King is Dead is a showcase of American roots prog-folky songs.

This album features Gillian Welch singing alongside Colin Meloy's lead vocals, and their combination is nothing but wonderful.  Evidenced by the first single, "Down by the Water," this album is different from the typical Decemberists sound.  The band returned to a mostly stripped-down set of songs, forsaking their typical lengthy ballads for something tight and solid.  This album is a great mix of musical genres, sounding like a cross between sea shanties, highlands folk, Celtic diddies, classic country music, and REM.  While this isn't my favorite album in the Decemberists catalog, it's excellent, and I think any fans of the band would like the songs here.

Kiss Each Other Clean

 It's no secret that I love Iron & Wine.  When I saw them in concert back in November, they sampled a few of their new songs that would be appearing on their new album Kiss Each Other Clean.  This album was released this week, and I've listened to it a few times since Tuesday.  It's starkly different from any previous album I&W has released, but this time, different makes for a very fun and funky departure.  The first single, "Walking Far From Home," is a beautiful song reminiscent of "Trapeze Swinger," but more upbeat and catchy.  In fact, most of this album is catchy, mixing pop sounds with the familiar acoustic-folky songs I&W is known for.  Sam Beam's lyrics are still as strong as ever.  Another song that I really like on this is "Your Fake Name is Good Enough for Me," a seven minute diptych that starts off slow but explodes into something that sounds straight from a 1970s anthem. 

Part of the fun for this album is that it is so different from anything Iron & Wine has released.  Traditionally I think of soft acoustic stuff, occasional banjos and electrics, and quiet lyrics.  With Kiss Each Other Clean, Beam has dove into heavy synth sounds, weird funky noises, and a much more upbeat experience.  If you're an Iron & Wine fan, definitely check this out.

Dead Space 2

Uh, I died within ten seconds of starting my game.  My post yesterday about wearing a straightjacket and hallucinating practically mirror how this game begins.  Isaac Clarke wakes up three years after the events of Dead Space to practically be thrown into the same types of situations.  Gameplay doesn't change much at all from the first, but dang it if it's not ten times as terrifying and twenty times more beautiful.

Dark corridors.  Lurking necromorphs.  Breaking glass and muffled screams.  And a protagonist that's suffering from dementia.  It's crazy how a game about survival and terror can make the heart pump and make you feel alive.  So far I've only put an hour or so into the game but it's been intense and I've jumped once or twice.  In short, any fan of Dead Space will probably like this, in addition to anyone that enjoys survival horror games (which I don't).  For me, it's the perfect mixture of sci-fi and zombie-alien-religious story arcs that make Dead Space such a success.

The Meeting is a Metaphor

Yesterday I had a meeting in Paducah, a city two hours west of where I live.  It was a final review meeting, pretty much like the one I went to back in the Fall of 2009.  Basically our project plans have been submitted for a while and have been reviewed and looked over by the State folks.  We then show up, sit down, and begin dissecting the work, page by page.  Each page is reviewed for inconsistencies, errors, changes.  Is the Right of Way going to have to be moved here?  Is that 18" pipe going to be able to handle the discharge here?  This kind of stuff.

While I definitely had more confidence in myself and my work this time around, I still feel very new to the business.  I've technically had my job since May 2009, and I've learned a lot during that time.  But, sitting in a room full of people much more experienced than myself is quasi-nerve racking.  For one, I'm still new to a lot of the jargon.  For two, I still think of myself as new.  I mean the project I've worked on since my hire date actually began in 1997, so I've stepped in at the tail end of things and have scrambled to make sense where I can.

Nevertheless, the meeting went well.  I learned some stuff.  I jotted down a pageful of notes of things I need to change and things I still need to do.  I'm behind, drowning in a pool of things to do, but I'd rather be that way than splashing in the kiddie side.  To me, having options that are somewhat pressed for time (~2 months) is easier on my mind than an uncertain timeline with uncertain responsibilities.

And then I woke up and realized that the meeting wasn't just a meeting.  No, it was something much larger, something so unavoidable that it was impossible to, uh, avoid.  Like Neo waking up in The Matrix I saw that life itself is one big meeting.  We're all in a room with the bigwigs, being judged and guided.  Sometimes the jury's kindhearted.  Sometimes they're cruel and selfish.  Either way, a jury exists to judge, and we're all judged by our peers.  We're all thrown to the wolves, but only after we've been drenched in blood and covered in wool.  We're all wolves, devouring one another, lapping up the sick after we've had our fill.  The earth groans beneath our selfishness as the heart groans within.  We hurt.  We grieve.  We try our best to prepare for the meeting and yet somehow we always come up short. 

I take comfort in knowing that Jesus suffered and was hated.  He told His disciples that they would be persecuted for following Him and for living like Him.  He told them that if He was hated, then so, too, would be His followers.  I take comfort in this.  It's not easy knowing that the world hates me, that the world wants to see me fall, that there's someone waiting as a wolf to tear me apart all for the sake of their own selfish desires.  The way I figure, I must be on the right track to suffer, to be persecuted, to be gobbled up and stomped upon by the world.  I count it all joy when I fall into trials.  I'll gladly stand up for what's right and take the gut punch.

And then I wake up and realize that the meeting is something more, something dark and twisted, something human, something else...  I step from the shadows bound in a straightjacket, hallucinating and fleeing for my life.  All around me are horrors too dark to describe; you'd think me mad if I tried.  I run, slipping on blood, through the bodies lining the walls towards the open door just down the hall.  There, freedom, just up ahead...  And the thing appears, leaping from the darkness and screaming in rage born in the pits of Hell.  We seem to stare at each other for only a second, but by then more have appeared, circling around me, jaws snapping, sharpened limbs gleaming in the soft glow of artificial lights.  They close in and I feel the first pains of punctured flesh.  Like a bag of sugar with holes in it, I open up and spill out.

And then I woke up and began to doubt, began to question, began to wonder how much was too much, how far was too far?  Who cared?  All was vanity!  All was senseless wanderings through the vast emptiness of space, through desires of longing for more and inhibitions begging for less, through misunderstandings and broken communication, through a world full of wicked sinners and dirty saints.  What can be done to atone?  What can fix the wrongs?  Who will teach me the error of my ways and show me what I can do?  Who will read these words and judge, misinterpret, and make assumptions?  Who will find the truth in them and discern the fiction?  The cynic wants to say the world will happily pick up their stones and toss them, burying me and my wife beneath a pile of broken rocks, our bones fitting in nicely with the white color of the stones.  I seek to understand the impossible, to change the inevitable, to fix the problems, to comprehend the mysteries, but I can do none of them.  It's beyond me, and in this I must try to take comfort.  The meeting has happened, is happening now, and will continue to go on until the end of time.

The Third Bear, a Review

Jeff VanderMeer's The Third Bear has been on my TBR pile for quite a while now. I've never read anything by the author, though his highly acclaimed novel Finch has garnered a load of attention. Likewise, his collection of bizarre short stories contained in The Third Bear has collected lauds and nods from nearly every review I've read. The book has a strange type of magic that charms the reader and takes him on a journey like never before.

So I made preparations to read this book, curiosity piqued. The library purchased it on my suggestion, and then when the book arrived, I promptly forgot about it. Too many other things to read. Carl (of Stainless Steel Droppings, check out his fantastic blog) posted a review last week on this book, and his eloquence reminded me about my library request. That very day I went and picked up VanderMeer's work. I was immediately stricken.

There's really no good way to describe this book. It defies genres. It defies expectations and normal thinking, subverting tropes and typical story-telling methodology for something unique and unforgettable. There are some stories that, upon completion, I couldn't bring myself to describe coherently, even if the tale was spectacular. This holds true for many of the stories, the inability to put into words what you just read, but it only serves to make the reading experience all the better.

For this reason, there's no way I could give reviews to each story in this collection. I don't know if I could pick my favorite, as nearly all have their own speciality, but a few of my favorites are below.

The titular tale, "The Third Bear," is a dark and somewhat familiar story. It reads like an old fairy tale, and the growing sense of dread throughout makes for an unsettling read.

"The Situation" is baffling. Part office-life, part post-apocalyptic, part Idon'thaveaclue, this story sealed the deal for me. I read it after reading "The Third Bear" (which I recommend you do as well, even though it doesn't follow the story in the layout of the book) and noticed a few coincidences that I could not ignore. I'm not sure at all how to describe what's going on in this story, but I highly recommend you read it.

"Errata" is possibly the weirdest piece of fiction I've ever read. I daresay fiction because the story is about a writer named Jeff VanderMeer and he's working on a story around Lake Baikal. The thing reads as a letter written by VanderMeer to an editor and seems to be taken as a true story. Suffice it say that this story unfolded beautifully and still lingers in my mind.

"The Surgeon's Tale" is probably the longest piece in this collection, but one of my favorites. It's reminiscent of Frankenstein, but it's also much more. This tale was emotional and beautifully written. I could smell the sea salt on the pages. I could watch the sargassum dance beneath the surface. The protagonist's longing was tragic, but his love was uncanny.

And lastly is "Appoggiatura," a story so twisted and confusing, so different, so essential, that it practically begs to be re-read immediately. Reading this was like catching glimmers of the City out of the corners of my eyes, almost as if I myself were somehow involved in the rich tales collected in the book.

I think one of the main reasons I enjoyed The Third Bear so much is because Jeff VanderMeer knows his craft. It's like taking a Salvador Dalí and transmogrifying it into prose.  His voice is strong; his imagery is top-notch; his creativity is uncapped. I'm tempted to say I've never read a work that evokes more imagery in the mind than this book (see the remarks regarding "The Surgeon's Tale"). His prose is fluid, flowing through the surreal landscapes he's created with ease, making the reader feel both comfortable and lost. He takes little-to-no time explaining himself, but instead leaves what he's told as fact and we're to accept it and go on. There's no reasoning why the rabbit can talk in "The Quickening," it just can. Once these weird truths are accepted, the stories shine like a reappearing sun after an eclipse, bright and glorious.

After finishing "Appoggiatura" and the Author's Note, I felt the desire to return to some earlier tales, though I resisted this urge. Some other day.

Am I gushing? Perhaps, but The Third Bear is worthy of it. The book was so unlike anything I've ever read that it has me wanting to read the rest of VanderMeer's catalog immediately. If you're in a rut and tired of reading the same thing over and over, check this book out. Or, if you're just wanting to experience the thrill of Vandermeer's magical oddity, do yourself a favor and read The Third Bear. I can't recommend it enough.

Oh, and do check out Carl's review (here). Some of these stories are available for free online, and Carl's got all these links collected for your viewing pleasure.

Self-Referencing

In the hinterlands of Western Kentucky, where the border plummets into the treacherous waters of the Ohio River on one side and ascends into the heavens on the other, snow has fallen.  Thick and layered, white and pure, it covers everything.

"I don't see it," I say to myself as I sit and type this blog.  "I'm just not feeling it."

And so I pause, the cursor blinking steadily, waiting for my next command.  What will I type?  What can else can be said?

Said, perhaps, is the wrong choice of word, given that I'm technically not speaking but writing.  Ah, you say, but does a writer not have a voice?  You've got me there, I say.

The problem is that I've just finished Jeff VanderMeer's The Third Bear, possibly one of the most remarkable books I've ever, as Dave said yesterday, "injected into my brain via my eyeballs."  The creativity has my brain working overtime.  His writing is so absurd and surrealistic that I feel like it's something I would write if I had the skill, the smarts, and the name Jeff VanderMeer.

Yes, but what is your purpose?  My purpose.  My purpose?!  You don't even exist, you're just a plot device in this blog post, no better than any of the other impetuses I've used to create.  How dare you ask me what my purpose is!

L of omphaloskepsis fame has two intriguing posts up, each with great commentary and discussion.  The first is about feminism in sci-fi (linked here), the second is about the blending of genres and the blurred lines between them (linked here).

I did finally get paid today.  Twenty days late, which means I'm technically due another check two days ago, but I'll take what I can get.

And the snow melts.  The river floods.  The earth trembles.  In the multiverse that exists beneath, above, and between the fallen snow a child awakens.  In his mind he sees things as they are for the first time. 

Expect a review on Monday of VanderMeer's phenomenal book.  In the meantime, check out The Sound and the Fury of Kristopher A. Denby.  Kris has started back to college again and has plenty on his plate, all of it quite exciting.  The guy's got tons of movie trailers and reviews for films I've never heard of, plus a pretty sweet collection of STAR WARS fanart.

"I don't see it," I say to myself as I finish typing this blog.  "I'm just not feeling it."  Yeah, well, I'm not helping you anymore.  You're on your own.  Alone.  Forever.

"Big Red" Holy Bible - Contemporary 3-D Art, a Review

The "Big Red" Holy Bible - Contemporary 3-D Art is a bible targeted for young readers, recommended for ages 6-12 or a 3rd grade reading level.  The bible uses the International Children's Bible translation, a translation I had never encountered before this review.  The best description for this bible is from the Booksneeze website.

The same "Big Red" Bible that you've trusted for 25 years . . . now with updated, fresh, 3-D art for today's video-game generation. A full-text of the International Children’s Bible translation with bright Red cover and ALL NEW contemporary art, that was created especially for children ages 6 to 12. “Big Red” has been updated with an all new collection of beautiful full color pages, illustrating treasured Bible stories. Inside the type is big and readable for this age group. Kids will love having a Bible to take to church that’s easy-to-read and understand!

I initially requested this bible because I thought the illustrations and simple translation would be good for my brother-in-law in 3rd grade.  The illustrations are all computer generated, designed to look like something from a video game to attract such a young audience, but I found most (if not all) of them off-putting and bland.  I'm not sure if a young kid would be impressed with these or if they would find the illustrations cheesy.  Personally, I didn't like how "white-washed" most of the people were, though I fully expected it in our Americanized version of Christianity.

As for the translation itself, the ICB seemed pretty straightforward and understandable, though slightly clunky.  I do think a 3rd grader could read from this translation with few problems, but there may be some places with difficulty.  I read through some of my favorite passages and used it for a few days alongside my morning studies, and I didn't like the way some of the sentences were structured.

One thing that I liked was the dictionary in the back and the use of footnotes throughout.  The dictionary has plenty of entries that would be useful for a child when coming across an unfamiliar word.  The footnotes are your standard biblical footnotes, offering cross-references or "Other versions add..." and the like.

Overall, the "Big Red" Holy Bible - Contemporary 3-D Art is not something I could see myself buying for my kids or really recommending for others.  The bible is riddled with illustrations, but proportionally they are severely lacking.  For the most part this seems like a simplified translation with occasional illustrations tacked in at random places.  The provided dictionary & memory verses at the back are nice resources, but in no way unique to this particular bible.  If you're looking for a children's bible only for some easily understandable text, then perhaps this is the one for you.  If you're wanting something with more bells & whistles, perhaps more color and not endless pages of text, I'd skip out on this one.

*FTC Thingy: This bible was provided to me by Thomas Nelson Publishers and Booksneeze free of charge in exchange for an honest review.  There were no cookies or pies or delicious cakes involved in this transaction, though if there was, I certainly wouldn't be telling anyone about how delicious they were.

Fearful to Fearless, a Review

Fearful to Fearless is a book with a simple premise: stop being afraid in life, stop being anxious or nervous, and instead be bold and fearless. 

The book is divided into three sections: "Fear Not", "Don't Worry", and "Fear God".  Each one begins with a brief introduction and then proceeds into the familiar devotional format.  The book at first seems unusual, as it essentially is an exhaustive collection of bible verses that relate to fear, worry, doubts, and the like.  Yet, its simplicity is great, for whatever page you open to you are guaranteed to read a verse that directly relates to fear.  Also, after each verse, Kusner gives a brief sentence or two to think and meditate on.

This book basically is like running a query on the word "fear" and the bible and then putting the results into book format.  While the idea is not original, it definitely shows the author's concern for his subject.  However, be advised that any extra stuff is relegated primarily to the introductions, and this book lacks bells & whistles.  (Yet, who needs bells & whistles when you've got God's Word?) 

Fearful to Fearless is a standard Christian book that offers encouragement, this one chiefly for those that struggle with fear and apprehension.  Some extra verses or commentary would've been nice, but then again, if one was looking only for a collection of verses on fear, this book would fit perfectly.  For anyone that faces these problems, fear and worrying, and would like a devotion-type book, I can easily recommend Jeff Kusner's Fearful to Fearless.  If you're wanting a more in-depth look and commentary on fear, this may not be the book for you.  

*FTC Thingy: I received this book free from the author in exchange for an honest review. 

Six-Shot: Some Insight & Miscellany

One.  Our birthdays were celebrated over the course of four days, beginning with Keisha's on Thursday and ending with my Birthday-Part2 on Sunday.  Saturday was spent across the river in a bigger city where we could dine on exotic Indian cuisine and lollygag around Babies-R-Us for a few hours.  We also stopped by the Guitar Center, Borders, and Sam's Club.  The night ended with a rematch game of Rook against the Winslows, wherein the Stewarts were utterly trounced.  Sunday brought the normal church activities, as well as an afternoon boring game of Bears v. Seahawks, Lego Star Wars, and an evening rematch of Lord of the Rings Trivial Pursuit (which I won).

Two.  Was it mere coincidence that my flash-fic piece, "Fate & 15th," ended on my birthday, January 15th?  Let us examine.  Coincidence: an event that might have been arranged although it was really accidental.  I can't say, though I would be inclined to say yes.  Some, however, would cry irony, and I would have to disagree with their incorrect word choice.  Further demonstration can come from an incident that happened last week, where my mind mistakenly chose irony when it clearly was coincidence.

Example:  I work a lot of crossword puzzles.  I was thinking one night (not sure why...) that I had not seen Nils Lofgren's name in one in a while, and his name appears quite often.  Nils, for those unfamiliar, is part of the E Street Band of Bruce Springsteen fame.  The next day, the crossword clue had ____ Lofgren.  This, dear friends, is coincidence, an expected outcome that I hadn't intended on happening happening.  Irony would have been ____ Springsteen. 

Three.  I enjoy dark songs, as I mentioned last January, so it seems a logical extension that I would enjoy dark fiction.  The stuff just seems so real and honest, usually offering more insight to the human psyche than a field of wildflowers beneath a rainbowed sky with unicorns chomping on some grass off to the side.  As such, my writing is often dark (evidenced with nearly every bit of flash fiction I've written, and many of my short-stories, too).  My most recent piece, "Fate & 15th," was designed to pursue a dark tone, create a story by using the same or similar opening lines for each vignette, and confuse the reader by making things unexplainable yet realistic.  In part in was inspired by Neil Gaiman's short story "Other People."  My love for Lost also seems to come in with these related arcs, too.  "Fate & 15th" began with only Part One, but when I was finished I wanted to know more.  The shadows needed more, and they seemed to permeate throughout all five parts.  Are the shadows inner demons?  Yes, but they're more than that, too.  I do write and read fantasy, and who's to say that this tale is in our familiar world setting?  (As Dave pointed out, an 8-chambered .44?)  Perhaps these dark beings are more than just inner demons, or perhaps they have much more power over their victims.  Who knows?  All I know is that it was fun and could provide fodder for something else down the road...

Four.  Generosity keeps begetting generosity.  I don't know if it's because I've been part-time laid off or if it's just Providence taking care of me, but things keep happening and I keep finding myself more and more impressed with people.  Even though my paycheck is now two weeks late and I should technically get paid again this week, I'm not worrying.  I know God provides.

Five.  Pat Rothfuss recently announced his book tour for his next installment in The Kingkiller Chronicles, and he's coming nearby again.  I've already made preparations to drive the 3+ hours to see him.  If he's coming close to you, consider visiting the man.  Here's his tour schedule.

Six.  Was my aforementioned example somewhat pretentious?  I hope not, for I meant not to be, only musing on my own enlightenment.  Oh, the new Decemberists album The King is Dead is currently available on Amazon as a $3.99 download.  I abandoned 2666.  Yeah.  That's number six...  Book review (likely) tomorrow.

Fate & 15th: Part 5 of 5

     It happened like this.
     Ellen was paying for her ice cream when the bells to the door clanged.
     Coty stepped into the store on Fate & 15th.
     Ellen drew the revolver and the weapon exploded in her hands.
     Coty’s head exploded from the bullet’s exit path.
     She then turned and killed the cashier with another shot. Right before she squeezed the trigger she thought, My God, they’re everywhere. She brought the gun to her temple and pulled the trigger, but the chamber didn’t fire. Odd, she thought, having put eight rounds in the magazine earlier.
     Dwayne was the first officer to arrive at the scene.
     “Ellen?” he asked, his pistol hanging in the air.
     Her eyes were filled with darkness, unfocused and dilated. “Shadows,” she whispered.
     “What? What are you talking about? What did you do?”
     “Shadows,” she repeated. “They made me do it. I understand now.”
     He lowered his gun, realization blossoming in his mind. He felt the scratch urging just below the surface.  “Ellen, I--”
     She shot him in the chest, the .44 tearing through his body like it was paper. She had put four more rounds into his flesh before her mind cleared. The last tendrils of blackness faded away and she gasped at the carnage before her. What have I done?
     She looked down at the gun. The store wouldn’t stay empty much longer. There’s still one bullet left, she thought, her hand trembling. There were leeches now, crawling across the floor and on the walls. The blackness reappeared, swirling in her vision like smoke. The razor talons of the shadows sank into her brain once again as she fired the last shot in the chamber. But the pain didn’t stop. The talons dug deeper, devouring her from within, a pain unimaginable.
     For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw Dwayne. He was surrounded by a thick miasma of darkness. Then he cried out and was gone and the shadows moved on her.

-----------------------------------------------
Total Word Count: 1138


Herein being the end of the five-part tale of flash fiction.  I hope you enjoyed it, if this type of dark tale is the sort of thing you enjoy.  I hope it kind of made sense; it does to me.  It's certainly raises questions...

Fate & 15th: Part 4 of 5

     Dwayne Braugh hadn’t meant to hit her. Not the first time, anyway. It just happened, and it grew easier after each time. He didn’t like doing it, but he did it anyway. He tried blaming it on the alcohol, but they both knew that was a lie. He usually didn’t start drinking until after he was finished with her. Then he tried to blame it on work, a bad day on the streets, an angry boss, something. All more lies. In truth, he couldn’t really express why he started hitting her.
     One night Ellen just wouldn’t shut up. His head was pounding and the next thing he knew he had slapped her across the face and busted her lip. He did it again and bloodied her nose. Then the darkness that tainted his vision disappeared and he regained control of himself.
     He tried explaining it. Shadows! she sobbed, blood pouring into her mouth. You possessed? That stopped him cold. No, no he didn’t think so. There were shadows scratching at his mind. They stole his self-awareness, his faculties, his free will. They scratched still, but he shrugged them away. They made me do it. I’m sorry, he told her. I can’t help it. But sorry meant about as much as a belated birthday card.

Fate & 15th: Part 3 of 5

     Hank Steiner hadn’t expected to sell a gun the day that that cute little Ellen Braugh came waltzing through the door. He’d been on hard times since the new Super Guns & Ammo opened up a few blocks over. No way to compete with those kinda prices. It had been three days since he’d sold anything over a hundred bucks.
     But then Mrs. Ellen Braugh (blond, young, clean background) came in and requested a special .44 for her husband’s birthday. She paid cash so he wouldn’t find out. Twenty-five one hundred dollar bills. Where’d you get all this cash from? he asked. She winked at him and he could feel his face flushing. It’s a secret. Not too much of a secret, he thought, but who was he to judge. He knew business was bad for everybody, so who cared how she made her money. He sold her the gun, promising secrecy.
     Thank you so much, she said, and she kissed his cheek as she left. Dwayne’ll love it!

Fate & 15th: Part 2 of 5

     Ellen Braugh hadn’t expected to kill someone the very day she bought the gun, but life has a way of not going according to plan. She had meant to take the gun home and hide it beneath her pillow and wait for Dwayne to come home, drunk or possessed (what’s the difference?), and start in on her. She’d put up with it for too long already, and when you’re the wife of an abusive cop, there’s not much you can do.
     So she’d gone into Hank’s wearing a low-cut tee-shirt and some extra makeup and said she was looking to surprise Dwayne for his birthday, so could he please keep it a secret, but she would like to get a new .44 magnum for his upcoming 44th birthday, thank you. She’d researched enough to know that a .44 to the head wasn’t something pretty to look at.
     The day she went and picked it up (thank you so much, Hank, I just know he’ll love it), she was feeling happy enough that she decided to stop by the store and pick up some ice cream, a little treat she could enjoy after the deed was done. Any old place would do, there, just at Fate & 15th. Fate, she thought. God had a sense of humor after all.

Fate & 15th: Part 1 of 5

 Herein being the first of a five-part tale of original flash fiction.
------------------------------------

     Coty Hopson hadn’t meant to kill himself when he stepped through the door and into the tiny shop on the corner of Fate & 15th. One minute he was walking along, listening to some Crows on his ipod, not paying much attention to anything but the way the music sounded and what Adam Duritz was singing about. He heard an explosion and the next thing he knew, he was in a room--place? box? void?--completely saturated in darkness, unable to see anything.
     At first he thought he’d gone blind. He’d had an aneurysm like his Uncle Trent and survived but was without sight. The longer he thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. He could see tiny bursts of light out the corners of his eyes, and sometimes he thought he saw shadows moving in the dark. If he were blind, he doubted this would be the case.
     He supposed, in retrospect, that had he realized the shadows were really moving that things might have turned out differently, probably not, but maybe, but that was moot now. He could still feel them ripping him to pieces, tearing his body apart day after day, and he guessed it would continue on for all of eternity, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why.

A Lack of Personal Pronouns

Jeez it's cold.  And it's only going to get colder.
Hungry.  The apple & brownie & 4 cups of coffee this morning was a pathetic breakfast.
Doing an exercise regiment that should yield 100 push-ups after 6 weeks.  (Here.)
2666 is an odd book.  And incredibly dense.  One sentence spread over 3 pages.
25th birthday is Saturday.
Keisha's 23rd birthday is Thursday.
Going out for Indian to celebrate.
Plugging along with ditch drainage and still wallowing in late to very late paychecks.
Doctor tomorrow for a checkup and to hear the heartbeat again.
Next month to find out if its a girl or a boy.
Generosity begets generosity, Anonymous Sender of $60.
Didn't watch The Cape and didn't miss it.
Did watch the Colts lose, though. Sadly.
Did watch Monsters of Folk on Austin City Limits Friday night.
Did pre-order Dead Space 2 with the donated $60.
Did spend some time sanding down & stripping the remaining two kitchen chairs.
Didn't eat a good breakfast...  must resist Snickers in desk drawer.
Did play at the Shelter yesterday, had two people show up, plus two others.
There's snow a-coming, and colder temps.
Don't understand why some people can be so delusional, do ya kennit?
Might be playing a game of Rook tomorrow night.
Requested the library to purchase Joe Abercrombie's newest The Heroes.
Did get more Ethopian coffee beans last night from Will.
Should finish How I Met Your Mother Season 5 this week.
Wants to slap bet somebody.
Si man i yulma nin enquantuva?
Star Wars on blu-ray this September.
Chernobyl: 25 Years Later.
Got Dr. Horrible on blu-ray for Christmas.
End of line.

Where I'm At

I feel like my life is at the confluence of a great and mighty river.  Ahead I see the waters flowing off as one single stream, fuller now than ever before.  Behind me there are many waterways, some stretching beyond the horizon, others springing out the ground.  Sometimes I am floating in these streams, meandering and twisting with no particular care or aim.  Other times I'm aboard a vessel and taking charge of my course.  And then there are times when I'm struggling to stay afloat, fighting with every last breath to rise above the rapids and gasp down air.

The past is an interesting thing.  Dwell on it too long and you find yourself waxing nostalgic, wishing for the impossible, and mostly disappointed.  That's the thing about the past: it's full of disappointments.  A favorite sports team losing a pivotal game.  An automobile accident that cost hundreds of dollars.  A friend letting you down.  But mostly I think we're disappointed in ourselves.

As we age, we hopefully grow wiser.  This isn't always the case, and too often we're forsaking the safety of the ship for a leisurely swim in the treacherous currents.  Sometimes we can get sucked under and end up lost at sea and away from the ship.  For me, my past seems to be a constant teeter-totter of on-board/at-sea, one minute helmsman, the next a piece of jetsam. 

I've always held fast to optimism, and I still do.  I'm a strong believer that thinking positively drastically affects one's well-being and global view.  Of course, thinking positively can only go so far, but still, it's a better position than being a constant pessimist.  This type of thinking helps no one.

A cynic may suggest that pessimism is a more realistic view of life, and that may be true, but I don't think so.  Life is a matter of subjectivity, and it's only as good (or bad) as we make it.  I'm comfortably and optimist and a realist.  I'm 20% laid off, but I'm confident that God will take care of me and mine.  I struggle with knowing whether or not I should keep my job, cause late paychecks and uncertainty is stressful.  I have financial worries--mortgage, student loans, and general debt--but God will work in this, too.  I love my house but want to sell it to save money.  My health insurance has a $7000 deductible and Keisha's pregnant.  I'm expecting my first child, and I could despair at thinking How could I bring a child into this world?, but I leap at the excitement of becoming a dad.  I have daddy issues a-plenty and the relationship with my father pains me to no ends, often sending me into a dark place whenever I even think about him, so I long to be the best dad I can be to my child.  I am now teaching (as of December 26) my Sunday School class, and this somewhat terrifies me, but at the same time forces me to grow and step up.

Honestly, somewhere along the way these past few months my mind has slowly switched to a more Jesus-shaped view.  I've found myself wanting to read and study the bible.  I've grown to love Christian non-fiction.  The other day I found myself thanking God for my blood type (I'm O-Neg, so I can give to all people), and this realization struck me as profound.  In all I do I am seeking to glorify God and to act as Jesus would.  Do I succeed?  Heck no, but I'm trying.

So where am I at in life?  I'm at a place where the future is opened up before me, filled with possibilities and excitement.  I have no idea what it looks like.  Sometimes the weight of it all is threatening to drown me, but then I remember that I'm on the ship and in no danger.  The future is bright, the water is clear, and grace abounds.

Bits & Pieces

• We're starting back up the worship service at the Pitino Shelter.  We took a little break (a few months, actually), and hopefully the cold weather will have more people in attendance.  
• We've been selling things on ebay to make some extra cash.  We've got rid of a lot of textbooks, the PS2, and some N64 games.  Still more to go.
• I would give my left arm to pre-order Dead Space 2 and buy it on January 25.  The first game was my favorite FPS of all time, and probably my second favorite PS3 game I've played.  (Reviewed here.)
• Anybody play Rook?  
• Anybody wanna surprise me and buy me a copy of Dead Space 2?  You'll have my eternal gratitude.
• The MENSA desk calendar William got me for Christmas has proven quite fun this new year.
• Dave is risen and blogging again!  Go. There. Now.  (What, Dave? Even after my eulogy for you? So if you die again, do I have to do another one?  Grr... Is there a book on blogging etiquette?)
• Seriously.  Dead Space 2.  Anybody?

Mere Churchianity, a Review

I had never heard of the Internet Monk prior to receiving this book, nor had I heard of Michael Spencer, the name he went by outside the blogosphere. No, I chose this book for two reasons: One, the title, Mere Churchianity, was clever and Two, I was interested in this so-called "Jesus-Shaped Spirituality." So the book arrived, I discovered it was published posthumously, and I dove in to see what this was all about.

To say I was immediately hooked would be misleading, though I was. For one, the author told a story at a Dairy Queen on Hartford Road, which, coincidentally, there was a DQ on a Hartford Rd just a few miles from my house. The story was a sad, indicative reflection of many modern youth groups and how they react outside of the church. But the sincerity of Michael Spencer's voice was heard: there was a problem with our churches.

A few pages later I discovered that Spencer grew up in the town I now call home, a small(ish) city in Western Kentucky. To make things even more interesting, his family still abides in these parts. So learning that Spencer was a local might have buried the hooks even deeper into me, assuring that I continue reading.

Yet, even without these coincidences, I would have had no problem finishing Mere Churchianity. The subject is something I believe is vitally important in our current, fast-paced, instantaneous society, and Spencer highlights many of the same problems I see all around me.

Churchianity is the art of shaping one's life after the church, as opposed to Jesus. Some may find this discrepancy negligible or a matter of semantics, but it's not. Look around. How many churches are truly following Jesus? How many pastors are standing in their multi-million dollar buildings wearing their fancy clothes and proclaiming that Jesus wants us to "have our best life now"? How many church goers are bigots? Racists? Homophobes? It doesn't take a genius to know that the word "Christianity" carries negative connotations, that all Christians are judgmental and close-minded. While this is untrue of all Christians, largely, to the rest of the world we're a religion that is intolerant of anything that doesn't fall under the OK of our set traditions and customs, most of which originated from the church, not Christ Himself.

Jesus was the ultimate example of love and humility. Who did He spend most of His time with while He was in His ministry? It wasn't the religious folks, that's for sure. No, He hung out with prostitutes, liars, thieves, tax collectors, Samaritans, and all the other lowlifes of the times. Jesus said in Matthew 9, "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." How does this compare with our churches of today?

Largely, this disconnect is the focus of Spencer's Mere Churchianity. The book was written for people that had left the church or were thinking about it, people that were dissatisfied with how things were going, people that wanted a REAL church, not a group of hypocrites.

I found myself shaking my head at many of the things Spencer was saying, agreeing that we need to be REAL and dependent on each other, as the early church. There were some things that I disagreed with, of course, and I recommend reading these types of books with a critical & careful eye. Still, for the most part, Michael Spencer was absolutely right. Our churches are screwed up and are too busy focusing on things that don't matter and ignoring the One who does.

I very much enjoyed this book. My copy has notes and underlinings all over the place. Spencer wrote conversationally, but with conviction and honesty. This is the kind of book I wish more people read so as to see that we're not all judgmental and uncaring. I can recommend this book for the target audience (those leaving or thinking about it), but also for the lay church attender as well. The argument is urgent, and if churches don't start fixing things, I fear for the future of the bride of Christ.

*This book was received from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing in exchange for an honest review.