List

I keep encountering lists lately ... and not simply lists of things to do and tasks at hand, but lists of all kinds. Lately, one of my favorite ways to procrastinate at work is to get onto EW.com and click through their ridiculous assortment of pop culture lists (50 Greatest Movie Villains, 20 Scariest Movies, 30 Television Shows You Wish Someone Would Bring Back, etc.). It has taken me a while, but it is strange how many lists sit around my desk. There's a church movie night list, and next to that a two page legal tablet scribbling of the dates of all the Biblical kings and political upheavels, and then there's a post-it with a bunch of names of different Holocaust and World War II historians. Tacked on the bulliten board wall of my desk is a list I compiled in green ink during my last lay-committee meeting with some of the wonderful people at DaySpring Baptist Church in which they imparted to me the kind of things they like to see in a pastor. Not far from this is pinned a list of members of the UBA Student Work Team, and now that I look at it more closely, I see it is from 2006, which means I probably should get an updated version at the next meeting this Thursday...

So, as an ode to all these lists, and because no blog would be complete without a blatant ripoff of another blog, I've decided to compile my own random list, much like the one a friend of mine compiled not long ago on his own blog, which I recently found myself surfing back to in my mid-afternoon boredom.

50 Things...

1) The fingernail on my right index finger cracked over a year ago and still hasn't healed. It's pretty gross.
2) Calvin and Hobbes comic strips constituted around 67% of the comedy I indulged in during my middle school years.
3) I have been yelled at and threatened by a member of Border Patrol.
4) I think I could be friends with Jonathan Papelbon, the Red Sox closer, if given the chance.
5) It often takes me several fluffing cycles before I get around to taking out a load of laundry.
6) I have a black belt in Kung Jung Mu Sul martial arts.
7) I am not a fan of big cities, which makes my current dwelling place a difficult experience.
8) There exists within the American Airlines company a security file on me, and I was once banned from flying with them for six months.
9) In my four and a half years of college, I had four different BSM directors.
10) My oldest friend, who I still keep in touch with, is Lisa (Davis) Snow from 9th grade.
11) I have lived in three different cities in Massachusetts.
12) I was once frisked in front of police officers with hands on holsters, but I have never been arrested.
13) The worst movie I have ever seen is Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.
14) The greatest beer in the world is Guinness.
15) I am a state champion German Folk Dancer.
16) I once pretended to be stalked by a lunatic to impress a girlfriend.
17) I have never had stitches.
18) I named by boy dog after Huckleberry Finn and my girl dog after the name on the pound's adoption sheet.
19) I am currently reading the Harry Potter series and am ensorcelled by it.
20) I have more than 15 Christian music singing tracks in my possession, and have sung to many of them in public.
21) I learned the difference between the word "cynical" and the word "sardonic" from a stubborn roommate with a dictionary.
22) I have never - NEVER - walked out on a movie in the theater.
23) Three of the best books I have ever read are Gilead, The Brothers K, and The Oath.
24) If I had not met my wife, I would have seriously considered becoming a monk.
25) I had a Michael Jordan/Bugs Bunny poster in my room when I was a teenager. Next to it was a Bartman poster.
26) My sister died while on a Christmas-caroling hayride when I was 8 years old.
27) On my desk stands a troll doll that has been in my possession for over 15 years.
28) My greatest Christmas memory is when I was five and received the entire Voltron robot set. There is a video of my awe-struck reaction.
29) I have never seen the movies Chicago, Casablanca, Pulp Fiction, or It's a Wonderful Life.
30) I am fascinated by The Food Network.
31) I think Field of Dreams, Dead Poet's Society, and The Village are three of the most spiritual films ever made.
32) I loathe going to malls.
33) I once pulled a fire alarm in 8th grade.
34) I've ordered black pudding in Ireland thinking I was getting chocolate Jell-O.
35) My first kiss was on a school bus in that little seat in the rear.
36) The best piece of fruit is a pear.
37) My guilty pleasure is watching South Park and laughing hysterically.
38) Three movies I could watch over and over again are: Anchorman, Wonder Boys, and The Insider.
39) I've had Shingles.
40) I've sipped coffee and people-watched outside a cafe in Paris.
41) I was a member of a state champion Polka Band.
42) I have been a two-time award winner in the category of "Dance."
43) My first kiss with my wife was on the Brooklyn Bridge.
43) I think, in a few years, the term "theology" will be considered a subversive term in some denominations.
44) My two most outlandish goals are to hike the Appalachian Trail in its entirety, and win the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.
45) My best friend, Stevie, is a pharmacist, and I feel guilty when I call him for medicine advice.
46) I can't remember the last time I vomited.
47) My mother has out-read me in books by at least 10-1, and this is just in the last five years.
48) I get extremely self-conscious when I try to dance with someone.
49) I have to go to the bathroom.
50) I hate iceburg lettuce.

Welcome to Houston, Sucker

"Rescue me, O Lord, from evil men; protect me from men of violence, who devise evil plans in their hearts ... Let burning coals fall upon them; may they be thrown into the fire, into miry pits, never to rise." - Psalm 140:1, 2, 10

It was a bit surprising to read such a wrath-filled lament in the psalm selections for the morning hour today, but who am I to argue with the Book of Common Prayer's determinations. Indeed, the above psalm and its partner, # 142, fit quite nicely into my tumultuous morning. Perhaps "tumultuous" is took strong a word. Let's call it inconvenient.

Rich Mullins once said in a concert, "The Bible is okay until you start reading the psalms, and then it really wigs out. All that vengeance and stuff. Of course, that's the part I especially like. I know 'Vengeance is mine, thus saith the Lord,' but I just want to be about the Lord's business."

Today, I was woken up by my girlfriend's father (the Wrights have been very generous to let me stay with them until I can move in to my new apartment) who informed me that it appeared my Jeep had been broken into during the night. Indeed, he was right. The left backseat passenger window had been smashed and some theif's (or theives') grubby little hands had rustled through all of my belongings. This normally would not have been that dire of a problem, except that, as I am in the last few days of moving, my Jeep is currently packed to the roof with boxes, pictures, paintings, clothes, bags, and a dining room table. Not to mention the treasure claimed by the theif - a carrying case containing my Xbox and all its accessories, including my three favorite games. Didn't this guy (or girl, because you ladies are just as suspect) realize I was a youth minister and that I needed that thing to trick kids into coming to church so that I can proslityze them? Surely the c.d. case containing lame (in his mind) Christian albums mixed with socially-reflective folk albums would have given him a clue.

In reality, he or she was the worst theif ever. If he had really looked, he would have found a lot more valuables, like my iPod cradle, my c.d.'s (yes, they're worth something), some picture frames worth quite a lot, and, of course, my car c.d. player. Now, not taking the music is insulting. Not taking an expensive music player is just plain stupidity. I feel like I want to coach this person on the importance of being thorough in his theivery.

So, in light of this new injustice perpetrated against me, I will be opening up a Sympathy Fund for myself, so that all you faithful readers can send your donation, that I may soon be able to replace my Xbox. E-mail me at ragamuffin_vagabond@hotmail.com for information on where to send your cash or check.
And please, if you don't do it for me, do it for the good people of Aberdeen, Scotland, who, now that my Xbox and Fifa Soccer 2005 game have been swiped, are without a coach as their up-and-coming team was the only one left in the Scottish Premier yet to lose a game as the new season opened.

Oh, the humanity! I'm with the Psalmist. Shower the evil ones with burning coals and toss them into the fire. How inhospitable can you get? Welcome to Houston, sucker.
___

The third part of my journey of faith will be posted soon. Please stop by again for another visit.

Three Short Tales of Consternation

It has been a long, long time since I have posted. Rest assured, faithful readers (all three of you), I am not giving up on the activity of blogging. On the contrary, here on this blog is where I find the freedom to express, even if just to myself, the deepest wonderings of my mind. Unfortunately, the frequent movement and relocation in my life of late has made it nearly impossible to sit down and do just that, express. Thankfully, I sit now in a coffee shop in West Houston, with simply a few moments to sit, think, and share but a few glimpses of my life over the past few months, and the ponderings that such experiences summon forth.
________

Consternation #1: The Job Search

Simply stated, it has not gone well. I struggle to find the place, but have been afforded fewer interviews than fingers on my right hand. Such failure dredges up a desire in me to want to react against the American church, Baptists and other specific denominations, and Truett Seminary itself. Many churches that I feel very qualified for reject me without so much as a phone call or a questionairre via e-mail, leaving me to wonder if it is because I am affiliated with Truett and the CBF, or because I am not yet ordained (though I hope to be eventually, when I find the right community in which to undergo the process). Other churches flatly turn me down for even an initial interview based on the flimsy excuse that I have no larger church experience. When I inquire how one obtains larger church experience, they all say I must work on a larger church staff. They have no real answer to my subsequent question: how do I work on a larger church staff when no larger church staff will hire me because I have not yet worked on a larger church staff?

I have fallen into some brief spells of depression, anger, and tearful sorrow, as it seems the search is wearing very thin, time is running out, and it appears I may have to do the one thing I do not want to do - teach high school. But I always assumed there would be a church, there would be a position. I suppose there is still much naivity in me.

Some people incredulously rebuke me for my frustration because they say I am not being open to God's leading. They tell me that looking only in the greater Houston area is limiting God's providence. I am not sure how I feel about that. I believe that God has led me to Leigh, the love of my life, and that he has a plan for me in the Houston area. Calvinism and Armenianism notwithstanding, I don't believe I can thwart the plans of God. However, my present circumstances seem more in favor of those who tell me that I can.

_______

Consternation #2: Negative, Cynical Me

I am a cynical person. I do not blame Truett for making me this, but I do recognize that it was not until I came through seminary that I began examining the Church in a much more serious, careful light. This has caused me to reject a lot of shallowness that I see in the Church, especially in evangelical circles, specifically in the area of worship. I can become very negative about some churches and their services, but I am even more negative toward myself. I hate how cynical I am, and how much humility I lack.

This past Sunday, I attended Grace Bible Church in Houston with Leigh and her sister. This is a two-year old church that presently gathers in a large movie theater downtown (a stone's throw from Lakewood); it is an "off-shoot" of Second Baptist Church in Houston. I could not worship in this place ... and I promise that I tried. I simply could not. All the songs were led by a band in typical (almost "traditional" these days) praise and worship style. All the songs were popular ones: God of Wonders, Here is Our King, Beautiful One, King Eternal, Unchanging, etc. Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with these songs. In fact, they are all good, and I have sung whole-heartedly to each one in the past, but when they are played the exact same way, back to back to back, and separated by quick prayers (all similar), a quick offering and then a sermon (another long one, timing out at around 40 minutes, which is better than last Tuesday's Austin Metro service, where the speaker preached five sermons in one over the course of an hour and fifteen minutes), forgive me, but I think something is missing.
Is this the future of the American evangelical church? Have we shredded eras of worship heritage, and created a much more succinct patchwork of liturgy, free of anything resembling ritual, meditation, beauty? As I said to Leigh, "I need more." I do not want to change Grace Bible Church, but I certainly would not want to worship there. For some people, P&W songs and a long, conversational sermon is all they need. For some people, that is worship. Not for me. I must have more.

There is no right way.

And one of the curses of going to seminary is that, whenever you share your opinion on such things, you are immediately (if not before the question) seen as either a snob or a cynical jerk. "Oh, you just say that because you went to seminary and you think you know everything about how it should be." I thought studying such things in seminary would help me speak to the condition of the church, but, ironically, because I studied such things my opinion is not desired. We fear change, I suppose. I fear change.

The long and the short of it is, I am wrong. I am cynical. I am not humble. Grace Bible Church is more right than I am. But even this understanding does not help the restlessness I feel with the present state of worship in the modern Church, and it doesn't keep me from despising myself for my attitude.

-----

Consternation #3: The Subtle Drift

Last night, Leigh, her sister, and I went to see Superman Returns (see farther below on sidebar for my grade). At one point, Lois (Kate Bosworth) and the Man of Steel (Brandon Routh) lift off into the sky on a romantic flight high over Metropolis. It is a tender moment, and whether or not it is a bit boring to watch means nothing regarding this observation. Lois, remembering her earlier days of gliding through the atmosphere with Superman, remarks as she draws closer to him, "I forgot how warm you are."

Almost the entire audience snickered. It was a suppressed, devious laugh exactly like the way one laughs at a sexual innuendo or misspoken euphemism. Granted, the line can indeed be taken two ways, but why does every one these days take the statement as "dirty." Why do our minds immediately call up something "naughty" rather than the memory of a comfortable, warm embrace. I believe that is what the line was originally meant to accomplish. I guess it should have been placed in a movie twenty years ago or so. Such a line is only crass comedy today, amidst America's subtle drift into perversion. Hmm, I sound like a fundamentalist ... Maybe I am.

But, if so, why aren't more churches interested in hiring me?

____

Images From the Last Two Months

May Truett grads who did it in three years!

Leigh and I at the Houston Astros vs. Texas Rangers game

My dogs, Gracie and Molly, sleeping where they're not supposed to be...

My mother with her Kindergarten class. She retired this past May after over 20 years teaching...

Being Happy

Love and Wonder

I don't remember exactly what my attitude was the morning of April 28, 2005. I do know that whatever little annoyance I was dealing with on that particular day, I was trying to suppress it quickly. So many days gust by us year after year, never to be revisited or recalled, and it is only a select few that remain with us, stored somewhere within for whatever reason. On that day, my mind was focused on one main thing, my scheduled interview for a position as an associate director of recruitment in the Truett Recruiting office. Nothing else was important; I wanted a job.

With only a few minutes before my interview, as I waited in the office at one of the computer desks, lazily making my normal rounds across the Internet, I came across something that indeed would, in hindsight, supersede any job interview, as well as any occupational event I might experience in my life. From the comment section under one of the posts in a blog I had only recently established, there sat, as innocent - and suspicious - as a dove, a short comment by someone identified only as "simchah."

"'...that whatever you love (writing, music, a certain someone, God) continue to fall, and may it never find a bottom.'"
wow that is good. did you write that?
fun to find a Texan on xanga! :)"

Now, a less pessimistic person would view this message, in which the last line of that post is quoted back to me, as a polite praise and a friendly greeting. I only saw the weird name, a tiny profile picture I could not make out, and read the comment as questioning whether I had written what I personally believed to be a great line ("That's gold! Gold, Jerry!"), or had plagiarized it from someone else. With seconds ticking away before my interview, I clicked on simchah's link, prepared to do cyber-battle, armed with my powerful, unplagiarized rhetoric ... and I looked upon a much larger display of her profile picture. Oh, I thought, she looks nice.

The next few months were as quickly moving and disorienting (once again in hindsight) as a whirlwind. Noticing that though she was presently located in New York, she had attended the University of Mary-Hardin Baylor and was from Houston, I commented back. She returned the sentiment. Then I, as innocent as a fox, e-mailed her. She replied again. Most endearing was how long her e-mails were. While they did not rival my epic-length e-mails (few can), they were quite large; she was not shy about professing and confessing her views. I do not mean to romanticize this to the point of syruppy sickness, but throughout May, June, and July, we had a bit of a You've Got Mail-thing going on.

The subsequent relationship that began (though it all seemed to happen in stages, the comments, the e-mails, the first phone call at the end of July, the first date at the end of August, the first kiss on the Brooklyn Bridge at the end of September ...) is made up of a host of golden days that rest somewhere deep within me. They continue to form me, changing me and reminding me of the very truth I was waking up to when I wrote that blog post over a year ago. Love ... and wonder. To be aware of these is to be in communion with the matchless grace of God.

Edit from my Xanga post of April 10, 2005 (two and a half weeks before the comment that changed my life):
Keep seeking those hidden depths - the chasm to which love and wonder can plummet just keeps opening. May my wish for me be for you as well, that whatever you love and whatever fills you with wonder (writing, music, a certain someone, God) continue to fall, and may it never find a bottom.



I love you forever, Leigh.

Listing My Life

This is a bit of a departure from what I normally post on this blog, but I was requested to by a friend. I think these questions are quite pointed, and I even added a few of my own. For those that read this blog, perhaps these answers will paint a more detailed picture of who I am, not that any one really asked.

5 Things I Plan to Do Before I Die:
fall in love
publish a novel (one that I have written)
visit Ireland
meet Frederick Buechner
hike the Appalachian Trail

5 Things I Can Do:
talk too much
write stories
drive long distances
martial arts
quote any Seinfeld episode

5 Things I Can't Do:
speak briefly
mathematics and all its brethren
enjoy vegetables
express my exact feelings for Leigh
go on a trip where something doesn't go wrong

5 Things that Attract Me to the Opposite Sex:
desire for God's glory
her eyes
her hair
a love for the arts
ability to be patient with me

5 Things I Say Most Often:
"I'm sorry."
"That sucks."
"What's up?" - always rhetorically
"The point is ..."
"Where are y'all going?"

5 Movies I Can Watch Over and Over
Wonder Boys
The Insider
Anchorman
Black Hawk Down
Brian Regan: I Walked on the Moon

5 Movies I Still Want to Watch All the Way Through
Pulp Fiction
Chicago
Magnolia
Pieces of April
Life of Brian

5 Celebrity Crushes
Bryce Dallas Howard (of The Village)
Natalie Portman
Rachel Leigh Cook
The woman who played the last girlfiend Jerry ever had on Seinfeld
Scarlett Johannson

5 Books I Want to Read Soon
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Rabbit Angstrom: The Four Novels by John Updike
The Story of Christian Theology by Roger Olsen
The Prophets by Rabbi Abraham Heschel
The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

5 People I Want to Do This
my Leigh
Josh Brewer (though he refuses to do anything with his blog)
Lindsey Carter
Grayson Goodman
Scott Shaw
___

Perhaps someone learned something about me. I know I did.

A Girl Named Leigh

The pictures below are where some of my greatest joy on earth is coming from these days ...


Leigh and me on the Staten Island Ferry


Leigh and me on the Brooklyn Bridge


Leigh and me at Bear Mountain


My Leigh

Somebody Stopped Me

Stating the obvious: I have not written anything on this blog for a while. The reason: somebody stopped me - somebody stopped me from thinking solely about myself, in having any driving concern for my own thoughts. I've been lost in the joy and the wonder of another person, and sometimes there are no words when you are lost like that. Besides, most people are not normally interested in hearing very much about a person's new-found feelings for someone else. You know what I mean.

"How are you, Vernon?"
"Not bad, actually. I met someone." (After all, many times you cannot stop the excitement of this from overflowing into speech.)
"Really?"
"Yeah, she's great."
"Where's she from? What's her name?"
"She's from Houston and goes to school in New York. Her name's Leigh."
"Great, good for you."

Conversation over for the one who asked. Conversation just begun for the one who met Leigh. It is somewhere around that moment where the two of you begin to separate. Why are we not more overjoyed with someone when they are overjoyed? Is it jealousy, carelessness, or just a growing pervasion of cynicism?

Needless to mention, however, such lack of concern from some does not trouble me. My close friends care, and that is nice. What better way to shirk off the self-centeredness of the world than by showing interest in the details of another's life? We should all be so selfless. I suppose this is the way you find out who are your true friends. Will I be so concerned when it is not me - when someone I know has big news?

But somebody has stopped me. Though, of course, when you meet someone you think of yourself in relation to that person, it is refreshing that my thoughts are no longer consumed with myself, my future, my call, my day-to-day activities, my purpose ... Instead, a significant amount of time is passed every day thinking about someone else, concerning myself with her. And this is fine with me - Leigh is much more captivating to me than I am to myself.

I am glad she stopped me. It is good to be halted. May I forever be stopped.

Houston to the Rest of My Life

It doesn't take much to render me in a sentimental mood. I think I have always existed in a partial sentimental mood. On Saturday morning, all it took was a playlist of good songs and an open highway snaking its way west through Texas. Worship at 70 miles an hour; is there a better kind?

I was driving home to Buda from Houston, an absolute mess of emotions, which I often find are the ideal personal ingredients for entering into a time of praise - those scattered times in which you realize no one on earth knows exactly where you are, and so in this way you are known only to God, and there is a noticeable presence wrapped around your aloneness. I was feeling stretched and somewhat confused. Stretched because someone I was immediately concerned with was also traveling at that time, moving in almost the complete opposite direction from me, and there was that well-known feeling of separation that is impossible to shake. Confused because, like the countryside that lay far around the bend ahead of me, my future (what I am going to do ... what am I going to be?) was unseen, unknowable. And Saturday morning I was particularly concerned with my future.

It is a hard thing to balance the desire to plan out our lives to the smallest degree, and the call to live in the freeing reality of casting all our cares upon our overly capable God. Entrusting a future we cannot envision to a God we cannot see often challenges our equilibrium, mocks even our common sense. And for anyone that is even remotely compulsive when it comes to the big question, "What comes next?” it is hard to lay aside our own blueprints/schemes for our future without proof that God will give it his undivided attention. In Scripture, Jesus says that the Spirit "will guide you into all truth,"” but the stink of it is that we are not consulted as to whether or not this truth suits what we desire for ourselves.

And then, in that moment of mind-racing worship, down HWY 80 between Luling and San Marcos, wondering of God, thinking of home, and missing a girl, there came these words gently trickling from my car speakers: "I've never seen that Spirit wind, but I have seen the tall grass bend. Still I'll follow it, wherever it may bring us." I'd heard these words before, but never pondered them. They were much welcomed.

I doubt I will ever hear God speak to me audibly. I don't know if I'll ever get a handle on this leading of the Spirit. But I can look out my window right now and see grass and tree limbs bending with the wind, and I am reminded that behind all the physics of atmosphere and pressure systems, there is a God directing it all, and he is good. For the rest of my life, this truth will stand.

And even the grass bends with purpose ... So much more shall I.

My Young Padewans

At the Youth Evangelism Conference

(From top left to bottom right: Colton, Rick, Patience, Jessica, Zach, Elisei, Travis, Sara, Mary, Simone, my mother - a gracious chaperone - and Victor)

Texas Boys

Real men pose for pictures ... apparently.
Friends from back home in Austin: from left, Shane, Kyle, Jason, me, Dalton, Darin, and Stevie, who it seems had someone to talk to that exceeded the importance of posing like an idiot for a picture.

The Knoll

Hanging out at the Grassy Knoll in Dallas before a concert (from right to left, Miles, Josh, Leigh, Me). I'm doing what I call my "WB / Dawson's Creek cool expression."

Brazos Nights

Tiffany and Meagan

Brazos Nights

Christy and Josh remember the prom

Brazos Nights

Grayson and Hannah

Brazos Nights

Amy, Christy, Celina, Miles (clockwise from top left)

Brazos Nights

Katie, Kelly, Jeff, Tim (clockwise from top left)

Brazos Nights

Denver the dog (Tiffany's)

Stuff of Wonder from Something of Earth ...

It has been a joy to become involved with blogging and all the cyberworld traveling that goes along with it. Today, as I post my first message on Blogspot, I feel much like a person who has moved into a new neighborhood in the same big city. For a short while I made a home for myself at Xanga, but the housing codes set forth by that community board disallowed any personal decoration without first lining their pockets with a small fee (they wouldn't let me post pictures for free), so I followed some of my friends over to Blogspot, where there is a much freer attitude toward adorning one's blog with images of special significance. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, and perhaps this will be the only relief to those who might wander into my blog and realize, very soon off the bat, that I am notoriously long-winded. If there is any way to communicate a 1000-words worth of something, best it be a picture rather than a lengthy paragraph.
I look forward to posting both words and pictures, and I hope that any who follow my move from Xanga to here will enjoy what I have to say about whatever. I suppose a warning is in order for this maiden post: it must be mentioned that I have a tendency to look "too much" on the bright side of things. I have known some who find it rather odd that I search painstakingly for the wonderful within even the most tragic. Call it naive. Call it unwilling to accept reality. Call it "just plain stupid." However, as I see it, there is so little appreciation for the wonders of God these days, even by devout people. I feel it incumbent upon me, for the purpose of this blog as well as for the sake of my life, to hold fast to the glory even amidst the gloom, the beauty amidst the broken. Deep down, I feel that even in our gloom and our brokenness there is wonder coursing through the veins. After all, death is not tragic just because it brings loss and pain, but because our ability to view wonder in another person/thing is significantly dwindled - all that is left is memory.
So, while I live, let me seek the wonder in all things, for as long as I can. Maybe I am practicing for eternity. Perhaps I'm getting pretty good at it ...

"I asked for wonder, and he gave it to me." - Rabbi Abraham Heschel


Me