L on the Forehead: Defined

Today has not been a very good day. A new person started at work three or four weeks ago, and she was working in the conference room. Because she needs to talk all the time to the guy that got me my job (they're both heavy on the sales side), I got moved. Now, it does make sense for her to be across from him; I have no problem with that. But, out of all the furniture they've bought over the nearly two years I've been there, this is the sorriest furniture yet, with the faux wood finish found on Wal-Mart furniture (not knocking Wal-Mart furniture, but compared to the rest of what we have, it's just not very nice looking). On top of that, I get the crappier desk of the two that were bought, and I was ecstatic when the temperature went down to 79° in the office where I am (which I share with only two other people for now— more to come later— and these two speak Chinese fluently and loudly).

Only two times in my professional career has a change in furniture for me been an improvement. Even when I became a manager and had my own office, the furniture "upgrade" was a real bane: sharp edges, ugly, and big so big it was nearly impossible to maneuver in the office— and I had a nice cement pillar in my office to really force the furniture in one way only.

It just seems to be another episode in the continuing saga of my solitary life. And I say this after some very considerate and caring people did stuff for me when my grandmother died. Still, I am reminded that I have no one. Mostly, that's by choice, and I can't imagine anyone ever wanting me. Tolerate, make do, pity, and have a few laughs quite possibly not at my own expense are all on the checklist, but a romantic interest is out of the question. And the laughter, reputed to be a great attractor, is really a mask for the immense pain underneath. If I keep 'em laughing, they'll not have time to realize how much of a jerk I am and how little I have to offer.

Some might question the timing on all of this: bad day at work leading to downward spiral of thoughts. It's more like a double-pronged attack, both supplying the ammunition of my self-assassination. I want to believe that God wants more for me. And I know He wants more from me, too. I am incapable of believing anything good about myself for any sustained period.

Joel Osteen says in his book, Your Best Life Now, that God wants to turn my bad into good. I want to believe that's true; I want to believe that all of my horrible decisions will not haunt my every waking moment until I die; I want to believe that I can make a difference for someone; I really want to know that the rest of my life will be more than just paying off debt and being stuck in a dead-end job; I really want to see that my sanctification is accomplishing more than just stemming the tide of the blackness I'm constantly steeped in.

Sadly, however, I don't really see any of that happening for me. Joel says you just have to believe, to change your attitude about all of it. But I don't know that I agree with that. I mean, I should probably change my attitude, but how does that in any way, shape, form, or fashion dictate what God ought to do?

No, from what I've read in the Bible, every person who has done wrong must suffer the consequences of their reckless actions; I can't think of a single person who did not have to live with the results of what they did. And this has nothing to do with forgiveness, either. No, God forgives and sometimes diminishes our punishment. But I'm still in debt, and it's not going away except a few dollars each month. I'm not that great a guy and don't really have anything much worthwhile to offer, so I stay away from people. I despise most of what I do, and I detest much of what I have become.

I could have been a contender.

I'm back

So, after my grandmother died, we didn't know how my mother would make it to Virginia for the funeral. Well, thanks to the pryaers of many friends, God worked it out that not only could my parents go, but I could go as well. We're all very thankful.

The funeral was nice, if such things could be nice. But really, it was about hope in Christ rather than concentrating on her death. As Christians, we do have sadness and grief at the passing of loved ones, but we also have the grace of God, His love and compassion, and His strength to carry us through. I seriously don't know how non-Christians get through times like these.

And I don't mean that in an elitist way. But, through Christ, we have hope in a future beyond our death. And this isn't just a mere wishing, but a confidence of things unseen. If you don't know Christ, what hope do you have? I mean, really, what hope is there? The "Universe"? Ourselves? Fate? What do these really do for us except allow us to fool ourselves into some sense of being "in control of our destiny"? And where does that get us?

Shock

So, my cell phone rang tonight. I knew it was my parents calling, and at 9:20 pm, I knew it wasn't good. My mother told me my grandmother was gone.

Now, my father's mother has been pushing death for a while now. She's been ready to die for quite some time. So, I've just kind of been waiting to hear that phone call.

Then my mother said, "It was my mother." And it took a few seconds for it to sink in what she was telling me. It was totally unexpected, and I am heartbroken. As my mother said, she's with Jesus now, and we'll get to see her again one day. In the mean time, though, we still have grief at her passing.

More Randomness

Did you think I forgot about you? Well, last week, I enjoyed watching so much tv and movies in my living room that I did forget about it. Oh, I knew it was sitting right here waiting for me, but I hardly even turned on my computer last week.

• SpongeBob is NOT GAY. First, it's a CARTOON. For kids. Second, he's a SPONGE. His friend, Patrick, is a STARFISH. They're not even the same species, so how can they be gay? Mr. Dobson, you're a very intelligent man, and I generally support most of the things you do, but this is absolutely ridiculous. Please, be quiet before you give Christians more of a bad name by demonstrating total cultural ignorance.
• The Insider is a fantastic movie. I hated having to spread out watching it over two nights. Russell Crowe did an outstanding job here. Al Pacino was... Al Pacino. What more can one say about him? Yes, there's not a lot of action (none, perhaps?), and it's all thinking, but what's wrong with that?
• God has really been showing me a lot lately. I hate putting this in such a short post (of course, we'll wait to see how short it is until after I'm finished writing it!), but if I share anything at all, it will be better than nothing. I've been teaching I John the past few weeks, and from that, I've come to realize that I don't need to be so down on myself. A revelation one morning after a particularly bad couple of days was that it's not so much my in/action but Jesus' actions. He has truly set me free. I'm not fully comprehending this, but I know I'm much better off now. There's a whole bit about sanctification in there. Many things are starting to gel together for me about the Bible (which I've always believed, even if I didn't understand how it applied to me or what it meant exactly) and my place with God. The things I've learned while teaching are not specifically the things I recall being taught. Anyway, suffice it to say that I'm coming to a better place in spite of myself and because of Him. I can't reconcile my in/action, but that's not my job (it's His). All I can do is what I know to be true and right and honorable, and trust that He knows my heart and intentions (believe it or not, we can lie to ourselves).