We almost moved to Bend.  I mean, in wanting to move to Oregon, Bend was the only place where we had friends who already lived there.  When we visited Oregon the summer before we moved, Bend was the town we had spent the most time in.  We liked Bend, it felt like paradise.  It was small, quaint, hip and full of great art and food.  It seemed to be attracting all sorts of cool people from the college Robin and I went to.  It really did feel like a great place to live…

So why did we end up in Portland?

It’s a good question.  I think there are a few reasons, but before I get into those, let me just say this: I am trying really hard not to be negative for the sake of being negative. I’m trying very hard to really understand why I feel Portland is a better choice for me, and in no way am I making a judgment on Bend in general and in regards to any of my friends that live there.  With that said, on with the reasons:

1. It’s too safe
   Obviously we all want to be safe.  Nobody wants to live in a war-zone.  Nobody wants car-bombs going off down the street, or gang fights happening at the local mall, or child molestors living in your neighborhood.  We want security, comfort, safety.  We want to be able to walk down the street in the middle of the night and not fear for our lives.  And this desire for safety only intensifies as you get older, especially if you have kids.  I have nightmares about something bad happening to my girls.  I’m super paranoid, just ask Robin.  I always think the worst will happen.  And yet, there is something inside of me that feels like “safety” is an illusion (thank you Thrice for that).  It just doesn’t feel right to build huge walls and live in gated communities to keep the “bad” guys out.  It doesn’t seem like a good thing to seclude yourself with people who are just like you and make you feel safe.  Obviously there is a whole expose I could write on why I think this… but for now let me just say this, in deciding to move somewhere, I didn’t want to go somewhere safe.  At least, “safe” as most people might see safe… suburbs, gated communities, no crime, leave your doors unlocked – safe.  Millions of people in the world are forced (without a choice) to live in horrible conditions.  It is part of where we have come as a society, as a race.  Our advancement in technology and culture and such has created large gaps between the richest and the poorest, and what results is brokenness, greed, corruption, hatred, violence and crime.  For the most part, larger cities have more crime because they have more people in a smaller space who are all trying to “make it” – and make it large.  It’s not a pretty system, but it’s the system we find ourselves in, and rather than run away from it, I felt like I needed to be a part of it – in so much as understanding it, seeing it first hand and feeling the pain, the fear, the distrust – and somehow trying to rise above this and find a way out of all this to.. well… blossom from the ashes.
2. It’s too rural and removed
   Back to bend, and why we didn’t move there.  We wanted to be in a city… a bigger city but not a New-York/Chicago/Los Angeles – major city.  Portland was perfect because it was a big/small city.  It was also conviently located near rivers, mountains, the coast, seattle, etc.  Lot’s of things.  It felt more connected to the world… an international airport, an Ikea ( ^_^ ), a light-rail system, etc.
3. It would have been too easy
   One of the main reasons, for better or for worse, was that we knew people in Bend.  To some this may seem a good reason TO pick a place.  But for me, it’s not what I wanted (and safe to say, needed).  I needed to go somewhere COMPLETELY brand new.  No familiar faces, no immediate comfort zones or bubbles, no help.  I needed to establish myself, learn how to make friends, start conversations and build my confidence in myself.  The only way to do this, I felt, was to move somewhere completely new, where we didn’t know anyone.  And, almost two years in, I would say, it’s worked.  I feel light years ahead of where I was at, confidence-wise, when we moved up here.  I do not feel scared or anxious having conversations with new people.  I feel like I am living my life, and not a life where I am following in shadows of people I think are “cooler” than myself.  I feel like Portland is MY town, and not a town I moved to because so-and-so said it was cool to live here (that doesn’t mean YOU (if you’re reading this) shouldn’t move here because I tell you you should! ^_~)… it’s a town Robin and I got to  know on our own, we’re carving our path here and that feels so great.

So why write this post?

Well, I think I just needed to hash out these feelings.  If anyone reads this and it annoys them, sorry – I’m sure half the things I feel and think throughout my life are annoying to many people.  This blog is 50% me getting things out, and 50% putting them out publicly because I care what people think of my opinions and feelings.

Bend, you are a great town and you are leading the way for sustainable living (sort of)… but you are not my town, and that’s ok.  Friends in Bend, I love you.  Seriously, I need you… coming out there helps me breathe.

Portland, this is the land I have sunk my feet into and will continue to establish myself here, learning the ways of the rainy-city.  I’m excited for the next year here… to see what new things I learn, new people I meet, and new experiences my family has.

Something is different now
It’s a subtle feeling, like a second chance
something’s changed, but you don’t know what or how

That beautiful branch of that old oak tree
It was there yesterday, and everyday before
But I never saw it, and it never saw me

My eyes full of mist, my heart full of wonder
I stop and stare at this foreign new world
There is hope in the clouds, and power in thunder

There is wisdom in trees, and comfort in grass
And there in the leaves, life from the past

The creator is smiling
I’m learning that too
I’d forgotten the job, of caring for you

You being you, everyone, everything
From the lost lonely souls
To the blue birds who sing

But my heart is free now, and my eyes again see
and Today is unlike any before
Life is now what I make it to be

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

I thought at the time, that only applied to teenagers – but I know now – it has to do with everyone at all times.  Those words came from one of my Youth Ministry professors at APU over 5 years ago, but they still echo in my mind all the time.  I mean, that’s all we really want right?  Meaning and significance?

I once heard a story that I will never forget.

—-

A man has been sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor.  He is sent to a high security prison with thick walls and no windows to the outside world.  The man is placed in a small cell with only a small mattress to sleep on. Everyday he is led to a room in the prison where there is a large crank coming out of the wall.  His punishment is to continually turn this crank.  Initially, the man thinks nothing of this, but instead is consumed with anger at this meaningless task.  Weeks pass, months, and then years.  The man, everyday turns this crank.  As the years wear on, he begins to fantasize about what is on the other side of the wall.  He imagines that the crank he is turning is a generator that is generating power for a whole city.  Later, he imagines that the crank he is turning is winding a great clock that people look at everyday from the city below the prison so they are not late to their appointments.  Many fantasies he came up with, all involving some great purpose that the crank had in the lives of thousands of people.

Many years pass before the man finally can not stand not knowing what this crank he is forced to turn everyday does.  He begs that the guards tell him what is on the other side of the wall.

“I must know,” starts the man, full of wonder, “what is on the other side of this wall?  Is it a city?  a machine?  a generator?  What does this crank do?”

The guards, pitying the man and his tireless turning of the crank day in and day out, decide to tell him the truth.

“There is nothing on the other side of this wall.  This crank has no purpose.”

The man immediately falls to the floor and dies.

——-

I think it’s what keeps us going everyday.  Meaning and significance.  It wakes us up, gets us out of bed, puts shoes on our feet and leads us to our work.  Whether it’s school, or parenting, or a job – we are all seeking meaning and significance.

What does that mean?  How can we all be significant?  Why do we sometimes feel insignificant?  How much desire to be meaningful and significant is too much?

I am trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. I am not tied down to any one thing… but it is difficult to think about what I could do that has the most meaning.  Does it even matter?  Could I live without these two things?

Here are two of my favorites from… oh probably 1999 or so.

(WARNING: They are really bad quality.  You just have to go into listening them knowing that my voice sucks, my guitar playing sucks, and the songs themselves suck ^_^ But they are fun to listen to all the same.)

My Heaven

Anything

When there is chaos, too often we lose control and allow others hurt to hurt us and we join in the chaotic discord.

I got home today from work and the girls were just getting ready to go down for their nap.  Usually Robin has them napping when I get home, but today she took them out for lunch and was a little late coming home.  No big deal, but it meant that now I had to get the girls to bed – which would be hard since they were excited to see me.

Maya was standing in her crib screaming (not sad screaming. just short little happy yelps) and Amalea was responding by sitting half naked on her bed throwing her feet into the air and rolling around.  It was pretty much chaos.  I knew I had a tough road ahead.

Not to mention that each time I told Amalea to put her head on her pillow, she replied sharply “No!  I don’t want to!  No!”  That was in between long sets of screaming and crying because she did NOT want to go to sleep.

After I got done giving Maya her bottle, I put Maya in her crib and let her stand there yelping for a few more minutes, and I turned my attention on Amalea.  At this point I had three choices:

1. Freak out. Force her to lie down, get angry and be strong with her, threatening to take away toys and basically getting her to nap out of fear.
2. Ignore her, leave her to cry in her bed and hope she just falls asleep.
3. Give her a hug.

I went with number 3.  She fought me a little at first, but I just held her close and told her I loved her and it was ok.  I explained that she was crying because she was so tired, and if she just lay down and close her eyes she would feel so much better.  Then I put her head down on her pillow and brushed her hair away from her forehead and told her how much I loved her.  She was calm, and began to relax.

Then I got up and could focus on Maya. It didn’t take long until they were both breathing slowly and asleep and I snuck out of the room quietly.

In that moment of chaos, it is so easy to just lose all rational and lose it.  But if I could just see clearly, I would realize that my little girl was just super tired, and just needed a big hug and to be comforted and to know that I see her, I hear her, and I love her.

I think in a much more subtle way the same thing is true with all people.  When their is violence or anger, stress or frustration, it is very hard to see the person for who they are and to see their needs.  What we see is something frustrating, or something that makes us angry.  We want revenge, or justice – but we fail to see what is really going on.  Sometimes all we need is a hug.   What most people need is to know that you see them, you acknowledge their pain, their suffering, their loneliness, their hurt, their fear… they need physical arms to wrap around them and release the anxiety, anger, and weariness.

When there is chaos, too often we lose control and allow others hurt to hurt us and we join in the chaotic discord.

May we be bigger than the madness at hand, may we be able to breath slowly in turmoil and stress, and see each others insides – the let-downs, the late nights, the broken hearts, the abandoned and lonely.  May we reach out our arms and embrace the broken, and may we, the broken, stop shouting and reach out our arms and allow those who love us to hold us close.

Most neglected things like that in life, we end up feeling very guilty about.

God: People who claim to love or follow a God, at various times in their lives, feel guilty that they do not spend enough time thinking about their God.  As a Christian, I know this stems from the narrative that God laid down his life for us, and we barely think of him.  So many people try very hard to spend time with this God they want to love but feel like they fall so short.

Marriage: I have been married for over 5 years now.  Marriage is so strange.  My friend Marty used to comment on how strange marriage was… he (who has been married over 10 years) said something like, “Think about it.  Who else will you ever spend THAT much time with?  You see them EVERY day, for hours each day.  You see them at their worst and they see you at yours.  You live in the same house, share the same bed, toilet, shower, and eat countless meals together.  You know this person better than you might even know yourself.”

And as time drifts on, this person that you fell in love with, that you married, that you’ve had kids with: they are there.  They will (potentially) always be there.  They have become a part of you.  And we begin to neglect each other, because we are always there… and occasionally we feel bad because we have stopped thinking about the other on a regular basis… but do you stop to think about your heart beating?  Do you stop to take a breath.

Occasionally… and I think there is something in that.

If my wedding ring were ever to get lost – I would feel different.  Incomplete.  I would notice EVERY day that the thing that was a part of me was missing.  I would keep looking down at my hand and just feel like something was wrong.

When I was 22 my lung collapsed, and up until that day I NEVER thought about breathing… but for months after it happened, I counted EVERY breath.

How strange it is that the things that we are closest to, that are the most meaningful in our life because they are constant, and close – we neglect and forget about until they are gone.  I’m not sure, yet, if I should feel bad and guilty about this… or if there isn’t something powerful going on with the fact that time + proximity + consistency = ONENESS.

I’ve felt bad about forgetting about God for long stretches for a while now… yet, in a weird way, like a marriage, my faith with my God is changing into something constant… consistent… steady… and reliable. Like a beating heart that beats without my will – my relationship with my God, and with my wife, have solidified in a way that only God could have designed.  Perhaps this is what he meant when he said “they will become one flesh”.  There is a ripping and a tearing in divorce.  There is cosmic bleeding when we abandon our faith after years of commitment… I think we begin to feel guilty because things are not as exciting as they were in the beginning, and yet there is such beauty in just BEING with something or someone for long stretches of time; a lifetime even.

I don’t know where I’m going with this… but it just dawned on me today, while I was sitting on the toilet, looking at my hand… this ring has been with me for a long time.  My wife has been with me for a long time.  My God has been with me for a long time… and in some strange mystifying way – they have become a part of me.

Watching cool kids dance
We stand at a distance dreaming
Listening to singers sing
Our hearts nearly bursting
But our legs are lame, and our lips are locked

Under glass that magnifies
We examine others’ lives
We imagine that they’re perfect
But it’s all filthy lies

When the foggy glass is clear
And it’s plain what we fear
We will dance in the darkness
When no one else is near
We will sing lonely songs
Not caring who sings along
Knowing beneath desire
Burns unquenchable fire
To be the one who is watched
And the one who is heard
But the eyes can not free us
And the ears can not heal us
We must do what we love
For the love of the thing
We must dance ’cause we must
We must sing just to sing!

We do a lot of staring at lights, don’t we.  Computer screens, ipods, cell-phones, tv’s… it’s like staring into the sun.  We’re all nuts, you know.

I used to preach against busyness when I was a Pastor.  I used to believe that it was possible to slow down.  I would get all up-in-arms about parents who worked too hard and never had time for their kids  And now… I barely have time for my kids.  Frick.

And why?  Am I trying to make my first million?  Come on.  Not even close. I’m just trying to put food on the table.   Do I feel like I need to prove something to my wife, my dad, or myself?  Not really… if I could I would not work – I don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks.  I’d rather spend time with my family. I had a really nice setup before… working at a church… why did I leave?  Why did I choose to enter “crazy” world?  Why am I here?

God?  You there?

It’s a good question… why, that is.  Why did we move?  Why am I doing web design right now?  Why choose to live this way?  Yet, it’s a crappy question because I don’t feel like I chose any of this.  The reason we moved is because I was feeling completely overwhelmed with the feeling like I had to get out of that town.  And I did have to get out of that town.  I didn’t have a choice.  If I stayed there, I would have gone insane, literally.  In fact, half the people in that town are crazy (no not you).  I saw it and I had to get out…

Jeez… I’m rambling again. Sorry. Another boring post with me reflecting on my life right now, trying to make heads and tails as to what the hell is going on.  Let me flip the coin again.

I’m so happy right now.  I am.  A deep-seeded contentment that can not be denied, no matter how grey the day, or how depressed I feel on any given basis.  I am happy.  Things are super hard, I’m tired, my body hurts, like I said – the days feel like battles.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.  And I know, in the sweat, in the tears, in the kicking and screaming – there is something going on.  Something I can not understand or fully comprehend yet.  But I moved to Oregon on hope and a prayer… knowing that in the darkness, somewhere, there was a new path.  I could be way off right now… but I have hope that Robin and I and the girls are right where we are suppose to be.  We are like infants in the arms of God, not understanding the grasp but being transformed by it.  (Peter Rollins said that).  When I hold Maya, I know she doesn’t understand who I am… why I keep kissing her and hugging her – but it’s changing her.  She’s growing, and when it’s hard and she has to scream because nothing else feels right except TO scream, I hold her, and she is changed in the comfort.

In these crazy times… when the only thing that feels like it makes sense is to scream, I am trying to stare into the lights… to listen to the inaudible movements of my loving God, and hope that we are being transformed in all this.

Christmas… almost forgot it’s about Jesus’ birth.  Mary and Joseph must have felt like this… bewildered.  What the frick is going on?  Mary is pregnant (nobody really knows by who), the government is going nuts, it’s cold, there’s no room in the freakin’ inn, they keep having these freaky dreams about crazy angels and stuff… and then, they have the kid in a stable – in all the shit and everything – they HAVE A KID IN A STABLE… that alone would be enough to break anyone.  And then all these crazy wacked out farm / shepherd people show up and say they are having crack dreams too and want to worship this child as their king, their God.  Seriously?  That’s stressful.  Christmas is a STRESSFUL time… and yet, it is the birth of hope.  It is the birth of peace.  It is the birth of new life… a new way…

I love Christmas, when it’s not being bought and sold.  I love the story…not about Saint Nick or Rudolph, or the elves, or snowmen and gift giving… the story of a man and his soon to be wife, running around, bleary-eyed, staring into lights, battling everyday just to survive, not even knowing what is in store for them.  Even if it is just a story, it’s a damn good story.

Our star is shining on top of the Christmas tree… the star Amalea picked out at Fred Meyers for 8.99.  it’s beautiful.  This life is beautiful… how beautiful is your life?  Seriously.  Stop and stare into the lights… remember something.

Merry Christmas.