I Resolve to Make My Friends Angry
I found myself making a strange resolution the other day. Here it is:
This summer, I resolve to make each one of my friends angry at least once.
And here’s why I made that resolution – I’m probably not being a very good friend if my buddies are never upset with me. It likely means that I am never challenging them, never calling them out, never encouraging them to mature and grow in character. I’m probably just being non-confrontational, hoping that they will get it figured out on their own.
Don’t get me wrong. I will always be there for my friends, ready and excited to listen to what’s going on in their lives, but I’m not always so prepared to say the hard thing that they might need to hear – the thing that is uncomfortable, but completely necessary, to say.
Now, what I don’t mean here is that I should shout at my friends and judge them and be annoyed and act holier than thou. Correction, encouragement and advice should always be administered with love – but with a firm and steady love. Not a “Well, you know man, maybe you should kind of do something along these lines, but you know, I’m not exactly sure… I mean, I’m not an expert and I’ve certainly messed up in this area before, so you know, don’t take it too hard on yourself… it’s cool dude.”
Nah, it’s not cool, dude! Or else we wouldn’t be talking about it! Humility is supremely important, yes, but so is assertiveness. I think that other dudes my age – and I have been guilty of this as well – …I think we’re forgetting how to be men. I think we’re forgetting about confidence and courage, and instead we’re finding ourselves operating under one of two extremes. Either we are overconfident, prideful, and blockheaded, or we are under-confident, weak, and indecisive.
In high school, I belonged in the first group. In college, I quickly transitioned to the second group. And now, I’m trying to find that balance – that in between. That paradox point, so to speak.
So, this summer, dear friends, I endeavor to anger and empower you. Please, do the same for me.
Day 2
I wake up and am surprisingly headache-free. Most of last night is a blur. I remember losing interest in the game and drunkenly wandering out of my room to see what was going on outside. I hung out with some friends, smoked a little weed and hooked up with a girl from down the hall. Whoops.
It’s 9:00 and my first class isn’t until 10:30 so I reset my alarm to 9:15, selfishly sleeping on for as long as possible. At 9:15 I’m tempted to reset it to 9:30, but it’s time to get out of bed.
Riding my bike to the Union, a harsh wind bites against my face. I give brief consideration to investing in one of those ski masks that burglars wear, but then decide against it. I’m building character, I tell myself. And, I sort of feel like the dad in Calvin and Hobbes, which is surprisingly a very cool feeling.
Breakfast this morning is a biscuit with sausage gravy. I go for the New Orleans Blend for my coffee and as I sip it, I feel like a native of the crescent city. On a side note, it is a rare occurrence that I will intentionally clog my arteries through the consumption of certain foods, but hell, biscuits and gravy just sounded right this morning.
As I open my Bible to read through a chapter in the Gospel of John, I wonder why God doesn’t just give up on me. I’m constantly screwing up and am far from looking anything like Jesus Christ. I say a quick prayer to thank him for his mercy and grace, which are two words that people usually remember from Bible school, but can’t tell apart if you ask them.
It’s time for news reporting lab. The teacher is an obese gentleman, who I’ve nicknamed Jolly Scott. I’m not sure if he simply can’t find clothes big enough to cover his entire body, or if he thinks that we enjoy seeing his belly. Regardless, here we are.
This morning we are writing crime reports about a made up burglary in “Hometown.” The idiot that we are writing about got tied up and put in his closet. He was stabbed brutally by the assailant, who, ironically, was trying to break into the apartment next door. I say mind your own business, idiot.
I write the crime report quickly and give it to Jolly Scott. He looks it over and sees a single, minute mistake, but insists that I print out a new copy with the correction included. You are killing the trees, sir. One by one. You cut, they fall.
I decide to refill my coffee after class and I run into the idiot kid in the Union. Feeling playful, I decide to approach him this morning. I walk up to him but he’s quick to turn away, avoiding my gaze. He is bold on a macro-level and shy on a micro-level. How cute.
I head outside for a cigarette. I’ve got some time to kill before my next class. I like to smoke a cigarette or two and read the paper during this lull. However, this morning it is far too windy to even attempt to open a paper. So it goes in Oklahoma.
I pick up my book instead and get 20 pages lost before looking at my phone and realizing that I’ve got five minutes to get across campus. I pack up and take off.
Thankfully, I get to class just in time, and my second row seat is waiting on me. This dumbass military kid sits behind me and is constantly tapping his foot on the back of my chair.
However, even his antics can’t get me down in this class. The teacher is Robert Hilton, an incredibly intelligent and funny dude, despite his last name. He must not have any relation to Ms. Paris; he is a master of American foreign policy. Our conversation is smart and to the point.
We will solve the problems of the world.
Coming Tomorrow
Paradox Point: A Short Story
by James Lepine
I've been working on this thing for a while now, and I'm excited to share it with all of you tomorrow. Looking forward to thoughts, comments, and reactions.
I do want to warn, however, that the main character uses language that has been deemed by society as "inappropriate." Curse words. Four-letter words. I use them as part of developing a character. I know that some will not agree with my use of certain words. That's why I'm providing this disclaimer. I want to let you know upfront that the story will involve alcohol, drugs, and cursing.
It will also involve love, joy and reconciliation. It will hopefully provide and framework for how to be honest with yourself and others when you find yourself in the place that we've all been a thousand times before: frustrated and fed-up with the choices we make and the way things are.
You see, alcohol, drugs, and cursing could just as easily be replaced with pursuing perfection, hard work, and monetary reward. All good pursuits can end up being very dangerous things when they take on the role of a counterfeit god. Just ask John Edwards.
So there you have it. A disclaimer and a vague preview. Day 1 will be posted some time tomorrow afternoon.
Keep it Simple
First of all, Happy New Year one and all. Secondly, I'm listening to Vampire Weekend's new CD, Contra and so far, I'm digging it. January is going to bring a lot of new, beautiful music, and I'm still trying to catch up from 2009. Latest bands to dig: Holiday Shores, Ramona Falls, Mumford & Sons, Joe Purdy, Califone, J Tillman, and Girls.
I usually have a lot of questions in my head when I wake up in the morning. What am I going to do today? What did I do yesterday? Am I making the most of my time? In what areas of my life should I seek to improve? How am I living like Jesus? How am I not living like Jesus? What changes should I make? And lately, a question that seems to be on every one else's mind as well, what am I going to do after I graduate?
For some reason, I let those questions run wild in my brain both when I wake and right before I go to sleep. In the morning, I feel really passionate about one thing or the other, and some times I get really hard on myself, and I get kinda bummed out about one thing or another. But then, like 30 minutes later, I sort of settle down and get a little perspective and remember to keep it simple.
A dear friend of mine used a helpful analogy when giving me advice one day. Here's what she said:
"Remember being in kindergarten or 1st grade or so and those plastic squares with the pegs sticking out and you could stretch rubber bands around the pegs and make shapes? And remember the kids that would inevitably try to stretch the rubber band around too many pegs until finally it would snap, leaving a painful red whelp on their hand? If your faith is a rubber band, I feel like you’re trying to stretch it around too many pegs at once. You’ve got the rubber band hooked around the essential pegs, the ones that are right and true, but there are other ones too that you just can’t let go of. I know we’re all works in progress, but I don’t think your ever going to move forward if you just keep snapping your rubber band on the same peg over and over."
And that's when I remember that I'm just a dude, just one dude, out of 6 billion dudes and dudettes, and that everything is okay. I've got a close friend in Jesus, and He's got a love that never fails. I've got today, which he graciously granted, and He'll be here for me throughout it. I may not know what I'm gonna do after I graduate, or this weekend, or this afternoon for that matter. But if I keep on being faithful in my relationship with Him - being honest, open, transparent - and if I be myself, with His love bleeding through my actions, then everything is fine. Keep it simple. Love Jesus, Love Others. Live Madly, Love Deeply. Seize Every Day. Run, Trip, Fall Down. Get Up, Learn, Keep Running.
I used to let my brain wear me out. I used to let Satan creep into my thought process and bring me down. And some times that still happens. But it's gotten much better. Here's something I wrote a while ago:
"I remember that it mostly happened at church, during my junior and senior years in high school.
At the time, my family and I were attending a church in Little Rock that was one of the most boring churches I’ve ever attended. Not to knock homeschooling, but most of the kids there were homeschooled and subsequently, lived in a Christian bubble, where the terms, "America," "republican," "white," and "middle-class" were synonymous with "Christian."
I was still dealing with the hangover of my sophomore year, during which time I went from a deist to an agnostic to an atheist. I didn't like God, and then I wasn't sure that he even existed and then I was convinced that we had killed him. All of the pricks and hypocrites at my private Christian school had killed him. We didn't need the guy anymore.
Eventually, I realized how ludicrous it is to base my beliefs on the actions of people who annoy me. I started warming back up to the idea of God and Christianity and began a two-year process of some pretty intense wrestling and doubting of God. I wrote essays about problems I had with the Bible and studied other belief systems.
Anyway, at church, I really didn't want to even try and listen to the pastor, cause all he did was speak to my head and never to my heart. So sitting there in the pew, I let God speak to my heart and I did my best to answer. I would get really frustrated with the vastness of my thoughts and would eventually find myself writing things like "everything is everything and nothing is nothing and I love/hate everything." I wrestled with paradoxes like someone who jumps off a building and immediately regrets it, fighting with gravity to try and stop himself from falling any further.
Realizations came when I stopped fighting and let myself hit bottom - when I came to grips with the fact that having faith in someone is an absurd leap that you either take or you don't. I owned up to the fact that paradoxes are not supposed to be solved. They just are. I realized that the only thing I shouldn't take a balanced approach towards was balance.
Does all that mean that I have never doubted or struggled since then? Heck no. Being a Christian is hard. It’s a process. It’s a journey. I’m still struggling along with all my brothers and sisters. But I know that Christ is right there with me. I know that his death paid for all of my sins. I know that his grace and love are unconditional. And I know that I cannot earn them.
I know that I cannot understand him and that I am finite. And I know that that sounds like a cop-out – like an excuse to believe. But I also know that I wouldn't want to worship a creator that I could wrap my mind around.
And so now, our generation needs to be humble. The term "Christian" doesn't conjure up happy thoughts in the minds of most people who don't believe. Are we known for our love? No, I don't think so.
And that's how/why I stopped thinking of everything."
And I think that I've got to thank both of my Fathers - heavenly and earthly - for the healthy, balanced approach that I am now able to employ when facing life and its decisions. I've learned to settle down, to relax, to be still and know. To just keep it simple, while resting in the fact that "keeping it simple" is oftentimes complicated. Precariously perched on a paradox.
I will begin posting my short story, Paradox Point, in the very near future. I'd love to hear your comments and reactions. I've been working on it, albeit intermittently, for the past year.
Have a blessed Monday.