Confused, Depressed

I think I am where I need to be, but I do not belong here. I lack the drive. I lack the desire. I am tired. No, I am exhausted. I have no vision. I am just doing what I thought I should be doing. But what am I doing here?



How long, God? How much longer?

Boasting?

For the past 20 weeks, I've been taking Greek II through Semlink at GCTS. I must have been out of my mind to think that I could do well in a master's level Greek class with all of the upcoming events in our life! I was preparing to leave the Navy, to move out of "base housing" and to move into a smaller apartment on campus housing. We wound up sorting through so much of our "stuff" and getting rid of a lot. Then there was the issue of finding insurance after we moved and we were no longer covered by TRICARE. Yolanda is pregnant (with our 3rd boy!) and due Sept 5th; I am no longer eligible for benefits on Aug 9th. Oh yeah, and we were selling our house in North Carolina. I have no idea how I thought I could handle all of it! To say the least, the past 10 or so weeks have been a blur. Strangely enough, despite all the things that NEEDED to be done, something continued to remind me that we had to do the things we were doing.

I am now nearing the end of my 6 yr, 1 month Naval career. The end is in sight, and I am ready to begin again. Our new life will no longer be a military family, but it will be a family in seminary. All of us are excited to see what is in store for us. Personally, it feels like I have a great weight taken off of my back. God is truly blessing us in our transition!


The most recent example of His blessing is found in what was my final grade in Greek II. With all of the stuff going on in life, Greek had taken a back seat. A week before my second exam, I was behind seven weeks in the lectures (one lecture a week). Somehow (I attribute this to God), I got a 86.7 on the exam! After that exam, I didn't do much of anything for the class. Then came time to take the final. Because I wasn't faithful with schoolwork, I had to review the 7 weeks I previously crammed and blitz through the rest of the lectures. Despite all of my efforts, when I took my final exam, I hadn't even listened to two lectures! My final exam score was 86.2. This pushed my final grade to 89.6! Truly, I have NO idea how I achieved that score! My final exam score was higher than my second exam!


Did I even learn anything in that class? Yes, but I have to admit that I definitely did NOT master the material!


So, what's the point? Am I bragging? Well, only in the fact that God extended grace by having me even pass the course! God taught me something more important than the language of the New Testament. He taught me that His grace will cover all of my needs. ... and as Paul wrote, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!"

Countdown

This morning, I realized that in about 4 days, I'll be able to breathe a little easier. For an update, here are a few things that will have happened:

1. I will have made my final return trip down to CT (2 more weeks, and I'll officially be a veteran)
2. figured out what I am going to do for a license (my current one will no longer be current when I turn in my military ID)
3. finally sold our house in NC
4.taken my final exam for Greek II.

Am I ready for ANY of it? nope. Does it really matter? nope. Despite the fact that yesterday, the fridge door was accidentally left cracked open and we lost all of our dairy and over 3lb of chicken, I sprained my ankle and my oldest son pooped in the tub; I have to admit that nothing seems to be able to dislodge this calm I am feeling. I'm realizing that none of it really matters! I have to attribute that to God's authority over all things. Strangely enough, I see all of this stressful stuff as encouraging! I have to wonder if that is what Paul intended when he wrote Philippians 4:13. To me, it is more of a confirmation that God has me in His hands. I'm definitely going to have to remember that fact in about a month, when there is no income, Yolanda gives birth and the Fall semester begins.

Hey, I'm certain that even Paul had times when he despaired, even after writing that letter to the Philippians! Why should I be any different?

I FIGURED IT OUT!

Yay! Now, my insecurities concerning the security of e-mailing to
this blog is securely secure, creating a secure feeling that my
security concerns proved to be mere insecurities that roamed about
freely in the confines of my head. *deep breath* relax...

Wow... Technology...

It appears that I can update my blog not only by text message, but I
am able to send an email! wow... technology...

PREPARED!

Back in the bowels of the library today. As you can see, I came prepared for the random delusional basement monster seminary student.



My years with the Marine Corps taught me that the best way to defend yourself is not to be seen. It is a good thing that my experience is not going to be wasted...

Thoughts From a New Seminarian

Yolanda and I have moved into our new apartment on campus. We now have arranged the boxes in our new home so that we can tolerate living amongst the cardboard. (FYI: the boxes are not really made of cardboard; Cereal boxes are made of cardboard. Moving boxes are made from corrugated paper.) Meanwhile, back at the ranch... We excavated the required things, and hopefully, we have a decent grip on our immediate needs. I now need to turn my attention to my Greek II class. I have 2 weeks until my final exam. Unfortunately, according to the classwork, I am on week 9 of 20. The worst part about it is that my last exam was during week 12. Needing to do something about this situation, over the next few days, I'm going to be in the library. Conveniently, the library has little desks called "carrels" that you can check out for the semester. I now have one. It is in the basement, but I've got a great view of a centi-block wall with an electrical outlet! It is the perfect place to plug in my macbook and ummm, study and stuff.

Establishing myself at my carrel today, I started to look around. There were few students, but a lot of the desks had books and lamps and other things left on them, waiting for their respective owners to return. Whoever uses the carrel next to me appears to have moved all of the stuff from his dorm/apartment and started to live in the library! Looking at all the different semi-inhabited desks makes me wonder how many students actually see the light of day. I couldn't help but think of the tale of Don Quixote. The story goes that this man from La Mancha read books on chivalry until his brain shriveled, and he began to believe he was a "modern-day knight." Maybe the same thing happens down there in that basement: Students will read so much stuff on God, doctrine, etc. that they when they finally emerge to see the sun, the shock induced by the new surroundings and bright light will be so great that they begin to believe that they ARE God and try to save the world! Maybe that is just my over-active imagination amusing me when I'm supposed to be devoting my time to study. Pursuing an education does weird things to people. I can't wait to see how I turn out! LOOK, A SQUIRREL!

Resurrection? Re-Awakening? Repentance?

I'm now sitting in our new apartment on the South Hamilton campus of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. God has been very patient with me, yet if it were not for my attempts at avoiding it, I would have never made it here. Something is emerging inside of me. It is a feeling I have not known for a while. How can I describe it? Joy? Delight? Obedience? Pleasure? Yes, this and more, all beautifully wrapped up in this sensation that continues to well up within my dry and dusty frame. Bring it!

Finding Myself

I have somehow misplaced myself. I think it was back when I was in college. One of my former room mates reminds me that I once left a note in our dorm room that read, "I've gone to look for myself. If I come back before I get there, please tell me to wait." Ever since late '98 or '99, I've not seemed to be me. Often, I wonder why. Yolanda has accused me of living in the past, in the 'glory days' of yore. The more I look back, the more frustrated I get because I can't seem to find me there. I'm gone. Yesterday is gone. I know that I am living in the present, but I don't feel like I'm really living. This is an extremely difficult admission, especially coming from one who is a Christian. Nonetheless, it is true.

Frequently, I've caught myself irritated and angry. I've concluded that the anger is coming from the frustrations of unrealized expectations. That sounds too clinical, too ... ugh. I'm disappointed with myself, and it bothers me to no end. There are days when I stop to ask myself where I went. Apparently, I am in a state of constantly looking for the me I thought I would be. Mid-life crisis? Perhaps.

But just as King Solomon chronicled his search for himself, I'm writing a rough outline of where I've looked for me:

I searched for me in a change of scenery. After college, I moved from South Carolina to New England. I quickly found out that I was not in Maine. Don't ask why I went looking there. Before that time, I had never been farther north than Ohio. While I was there, I married a native. Unfortunately, I didn't find myself in marriage, either. At first, this sounds horrible, but there is a good reason I say that. More on that later. Despite not finding myself, I did discover that when God brings a couple together, that bond can not be broken. Translation: I dragged an innocent young woman into the mess that is my life. (poor Yolanda, there's no escape) Knowing that I had to support two people, I thought I could find myself teaching high school Spanish. Boy, was I wrong! Enough said about that. That period in my life is better left alone. Since I wasn't there, I looked for me in "travel" and "adventure." I enlisted in the Navy. I have to admit that I had always wanted to serve my country. Though I didn't find myself, once again, God taught me something. He showed me that 'service' really isn't what I thought it was. Not only did I not get to go anywhere exciting, I did not find me in my patriotism. After some time at my first duty station, I tried looking for myself in fatherhood. Coincidentally, Yolanda gave birth to our first child. Needless to say, Elijah didn't have an answer for me. All he did was scream and poop. Interestingly enough, I noticed that he bears a strange resemblance to me. When Nathanael, our second son, came along, he didn't have much to say, either. He just ate a lot, screamed AND pooped. Strangely, he, too kinda looks like me. What was God's lesson in my attempt at finding myself in fatherhood? Well, if I omit that whole 'made in God's image' thing and that 'God, our Heavenly Father' thing, I'm not 100% certain. Either way, I didn't find myself. However, I did discover a disturbing trend. I began to notice that the longer I look for me, more people I keep adding to this confusion. (Our third son is to be born in September) I am now at the end of my 'service obligation' with the navy. Soon I will be 'free' to search for me in the civilian sector.

However, recently I realized that I know where to find myself. Come to find out, I've known it all along. I lost myself over a decade ago. I gave me to someone I could trust. My life is hidden in Christ, and no one can take it away from him. It is no wonder that I've been angry and fusrated. Though I've known where to look, I've been searching for me elsewhere. I can't find myself in marriage, service to my country, fatherhood, or anything else, for that matter. I can be found in Christ. This fall, I begin a new chapter in my life. I'm moving my growing family to a seminary campus and begin working on a MA in Theology. That's a tough task. With a family, it gets even harder. It's time to stop searching all over the place and get re-aquainted with myself.

Excuse me, I'm a little lost. Could you point me to the cross? I need some rest.

Saved? Self-Centeredness?

I've been wanting to write for close to a week about the subtle arsenic that permeates my thoughts as I live, breath and walk! My self-determination works so hard to force man-centeredness onto God as a character trait. In every moment, I have to be reminded that God is, and His ultimate goal is His own glory! In reality, the benefits for us are merely a side-effect.

Again, I recently was made aware of this... self-determination. The reflection below was triggered by a quote from the pulpit of the church I attend. It was so good that I printed it and taped it to the wall facing my desk. Despite the grammar, it is a profound question that sliced to the core of my heart. The context is a sermon on Ecc 9:1-12 titled, "Gift versus Gain in the Face of Mortality." One of the summary points was this:

"What are you hoping to be saved from?"

The more I thought about it, the more that question hurt. My mind was searching for the "right" answer, but the real answer shined a spotlight on my heart and in my life... I think I summed it up in one word. "life" To be honest, it scared me until I rationalized it to the point that it became, "life under the sun." Yet seriously, what is life other than the freedom that is given when we strive to worship and love God with (to quote a respected friend and brother in Christ) "white-hot intensity"? So, I don't necessarily want to be saved from life but from death. I want to be saved from the death that would occur when I see a Holy God face-to-face. As I consider it, I believe this fear is universal. It just may not be expressed as such. In this fear, God is not glorified. If perfect love drives out fear (and it does), and if this perfect love is made available to all (and it is), then this fear is nothing but unbelief in Christ's atoning work. It is little more than the "evil, unbelieving heart that falls away from the living God" about which the author of Hebrews is warning us. For how can God be glorified in me if I am living my life in fear and disbelief? But thankfully, He desires to be glorified! He sent his Son! Not for me, so I can be saved from my fears, but He sent his son that I may glorify Him! In that is freedom, not just for me but for all who believe! My benefit is merely a side-effect of His self-interest! He made a way that this filthy, unbelieving worm can glorify Him by being satisfied in Him!

And that I shall do.

-creto

Mourning

On January 26th, my dad died. Since I left for college in 1995, I've dis-associated myself from home. However, for reasons I can't get into right now, he has (and always will have) my deepest respect and gratitude. Because of my background, I have never been one who expresses much genuine emotion. To my detriment, I had to learn to be "emotionally guarded." Because of this, I guess I could be considered "emotionally defecient."

Well, as is always the case with a loss, one mourns. The writers of Ecclesiastes and Lamentations have a lot of great insight, but that is not why I am writing right now. I wanted to share my own, personal reflections on the death of my dad. My own thoughts and... dare I say... emotions.

First, the thing that hurts the most is that I am pretty certain that he died without hope... Outside of Christ. My efforts were futile. In that, there's a learning point about salvation.

We all knew his death was coming. He had been in and out of the hospital a LOT. I currently live in Connecticut. He was in South Carolina. Frequent visits were not possible. Near the end of last year, I recieved a call from my brother, who is living in New Jersey. He told me that Dad was in ICU. He gave me all kinds of reasons why, to include: pacemaker failure, kidney failure, fluid on the lungs, swelling legs and feet. He thought that it was the end for Dad, and I should come down. I did. I flew down to Columbia to visit my dad in ICU for almost a week. During that time, he improved a LOT. However, when I left, he was still in ICU. I didn't know it at the time, but it was to be the last time I saw my dad.

Flashing forward to last night: I sent a text to my brother to ask how things were going. Below is our "conversation:"

I asked him how things were hard.

Him: A lot of stuff and I keep missing him

Me: That, I think, is one of the reasons mourning is good. It helps us deal with the fact that we will never have what we had again.

Me: Just think... I never had a chance to say good bye.

Me: I think he knew I wouldn't get that chance when I left him in ICU that day.

Me: See? That is the benefit of a memorial service. To let all of that bad/sad crap out of our systems. I truly believe that mourning frees us to live our lives.

Me: Did we know it was coming? Yeah. Did we expect it? Sure, but not so soon. I wasn't ready to let go of him yet. God knew it was time. I didn't.

Me: Had I known... I would have done things differently.

Me: I guess in a way, just like him, I knew it was the last time I would see him. I just didn't want it to be that way. I didn't want to say good bye.

Me: I kinda still don't.

Me: But I have to keep telling myself to be strong... How foolish of me to think I could be so strong. How dare I try to deny my emotions!?

Me: I just want to be a grown-up and say good bye.

Me: And thank you... For all he took upon himself... For me.

Him: I being forced to say good bye but at the same time I did cause it was going to happen regardless so I was sure to make my peace so when it happened it w

Him: ouldn't hurt so much but here I am wanting to call him at night or looking for him in game

Him: Well I'm not strong just constantly distracted

Me: So, this is what pain is like...

...

And this process continues...