Hello again. I’ve missed you… did you miss me?

I wonder if this past week has felt like such a great week because it actually was a great week, or because it followed one of the worst weeks of my life? I think it might be both. The good is best appreciated in the wake of the bad… and I assure you the wake of January/February in my life was wide and terrible… but that makes the good so much sweeter.

I have lots of links and random tidbits of life that i’ve been saving up during my hiatus that i’ll have to share with you, but that can wait until Monday. Today… just go out and be awed by everything around you. Like breathing. That’s pretty awesome.

Four things that absolutely rock about the fact that my office just moved from the trailer (“mod-u-lar building”) to a cubicle in the main building. (Yes, i’m seriously happy about this.)

1. Overarching reasons 2-4, I just love change.

2. Headphones rule me. Music sounds better in headphones.

3. It’s going to make me a better employee. I’m going to be better at what I do. Under more supervision, around more people (thank God), and forced to be more focused. I want to be better at what I do… so this makes me happy. Being a slacker didn’t really work out for me, and it certainly wasn’t doing anything beneficial for anyone else.

4. It doesn’t feel like the fifth circle of hell in here. My typical workday in the trailer consisted of trying to get some work done in between bouts of sweating like like someone dared me to. Granted, here in the cube the fluorescent lighting looms large overhead (which always reminds me of the bizarreness of the first 30 minutes or so of the highly underrated Joe Versus the Volcano) but i’ll deal with bright lights instead of the flames of eternal damnation anyday.

In the midst of moving everything over, I sifted through some old files and sketchbooks. They held many secrets and insights… into what a LOSER I was. I wouldn’t have hung out with me then. Nevertheless, I also found some humorous things, like an 8×10 of me (with a fluffy afro) from my college church’s CHURCH DIRECTORY, stacks of old poetry and song lyrics (terrible), and a note from one of my religion classes, passed back and forth between Sarah, Matt, and I. Background: Matt was emo before emo was cool. (Ok… granted, emo isn’t cool… but Matt was emo before we called emo “emo,” mmm k?) He was in a band called Katherine Speed. I always referred to them as Katherine’s Peed… mostly because I am a soul-less mocker. Sarah and I were just getting to know each other, and we’re still very good friends.

Me: “I’m bored… if you were a fruit or veggie, what would you be and why?”

Sarah: “I’d be a grape. Small, sweet, and FULL OF FLAVA, YO.”

I might note that we are all very caucasian. In fact, I will. Lily white, people. Lily white.

My house, a cute little 50′s style bungalow, sits about 20′ off a fairly busy highway. The house has minimal insulation, which basically means I can hear the loose change jingling in your cupholder or the bottle of speed rolling around in a trucker’s floorboard when they pass. (ok… that was probably an unfair generalization. Not every trucker does speed… all of the time.) It makes for interesting nighttime noises that keep me awake at all hours. Last night at about 2:00am someone hit a dog RIGHT IN FRONT of my house and I will spare you the details but OH MY DANG, IT WAS A WRETCHED SOUND. It woke up every dog in our neighborhood (who are legion) and there was much howling which faded into the distance as the injured pup ran away. In my world, he’s ok now.

I want to move.

There is much going on in my head an my heart lately… probably too much to be able to get out in anything resembling coherent thought. Suffice to say that I realize i’m in the midst of a very teachable moment (season), and I can learn a lot of important lessons over the next few weeks if i’ll shut up long enough to listen.

“You who are simple, gain prudence; you who are foolish, gain understanding. Listen, for I have worthy things to say; I open my lips to speak what is right.” Proverbs 8:6-7

I woke up before my alarm today. That’s the first time that’s happened in a month. Apparently my body is starting to reset itself after all the craziness of the past few weeks. This is a good thing. However, I also had the first dream i’ve remembered in awhile last night. It was, of course, a stress dream. College classroom… i’d been skipping class for three weeks… I come in to meet public mocking from the professor. How bad was it? “Is this still your parent’s correct home phone number? Mm hmm…” Shudder.

I hate not feeling like i’m in control of things.

David Crowder, he of tallish skinniness and prodigious goatee, has a new book, called Praise Habit, and his oh-so-originally-monikered band has a new album of remixes (interpretations) from the Illuminate album, called Sunsets and Sushi, which just released yesterday. You can get them both here. The album is pretty dang great and I read an excerpt from the book that made me smile real big and go “I’m glad there are like-minded people out there.”

Go forth and consume something worthwhile for once. After which, and after you soak in the lovely goodness of it all, send Dave an email (david at david crowder band dot com, which is, again, original) to tell him how much you enjoy his book and album. Tell him I sent you.

I’m somewhere between aftermath and afterglow. The past few weeks have been crazy. Too little sleep. Too little community. Too much computer. There have been good things to come out of that… namely launching HRTWRK. And there have also been some things that aren’t exactly what I would call “good.” More like achingly good. Realizations about my massive shortcomings in the area of follow through and integrity (didn’t I just talk about this?) Granted, no one likes to hear that they’re dropping the ball. No one wants to hear they’re not perfect. We know we aren’t, but that doesn’t mean we necessarily want someone tell you “ok… this is what I see… what are you going to do about it?”

But it’s so GOOD to hear that from people who love you. And so needed. Not in the name of self-help or even self-improvement. But moreso in the name of wanting to hold Christ up to the people in my life and show them that He is infinitely valuable… that His presence in my life changes me and makes me more than I could possibly be on my own. I don’t want that self-congratulatory kind of morality. “Look at me and how holy I can be.” That’s disgusting. But I do want to be trustworthy. And I want the opportunity to make great art and design that can start a conversation with people who haven’t met Christ. With people who have so much baggage attached to the idea of God that they push all of it as far away as possible. Art and design that can do that, not because it’s literal and explicitly “christian” (honestly, I don’t know what that looks like or how to do it… i’m no PainterOfLight™) but good work gives you a voice into the lives of people who might otherwise not be interested in what you have to say. It’s not a voice to shout at them, but just a simple way to get your foot in the door, engage them emotionally, and then serve and love them. That’s a GIFT.

I don’t need a secretary. I need to get my act together. And I think HRTWRK proved that I can execute when I have the right mix of work and keeping my word. Even if it’s a simple thing like “I’m launching this little site on V Day.”

“Thou shalt not make unto thee any woven image…”

Sweet, Brooke saved me the trouble of scanning in the bizarre piece of scam-mail I got earlier this week. I mean… people… are there really idiots so detached from reality that they fall for stuff like this? Yes… they’re the ones who read “Dear Someone Connected with This Address” and think “Yep! That’s me.” Honest question: how do they make it through the day without inadvertently inflicting bodily harm to themselves or others?

Snail mail spam chain letters. And we wonder why no one takes Christianity seriously.

Earlier today Gilmore shared with me the greatness/wretchedness of The Way of the Master which, in addition to sounding like A.) a 70′s kung fu classic or B.) a sequel to 80′s classic The Beastmaster, also features a walking, talking Kirk Cameron, a handy click here if you’re a Christian or click here if you’re not (you hellbound pagan sinner heathen but welcome to our website) option, and a site navigation/interaction scheme that has been used by other sites to a much greater effect. Just because you can make Kirk Cameron talk to me and point at the navigation to tell me where it is (because I am, after all, an idiot) doesn’t mean you should.

If this is the way of the master, I don’t want to follow in it.

I did have a nice moment when Kirk was asking me “Who do you know who isn’t saved? A good friend? Your brother? Your father…” at which point a picture of an older black man with a bad mustache appears and I almost spit Coke all over my desk laughing. And my mother is Asian. Who knew?

As I was coming into work today, talking to myself in the car (as usual), the phrase “killing time” crossed my mind and I thought, “What a great phrase.” I say phrases like that off-hand all the time without thinking of their meaning. But this one means what it says and it says what it means. Whenever I engage in one of the activities that routinely get filed under “killing time”… that’s what i’m doing. I’m murdering time. It’s never coming back. I don’t get a re-do. There is no do-over. Nintendo has mistakenly led me to believe that there’s a restart button. Liars.

So that leaves me with two options… I can kill my time or I can use my time. I want to use my time… and I want to use it wisely. I want to leverage my time (and other resources, talents, etc.) and pour myself into something worthwhile. Time is my most limited resource. I’d hate to kill it by passively letting it slip through my hands.