Lesson 2 - Things I Learned From Porn

Hello everyone.

Welcome to this evenings post.  I'm glad you checked in.  However, before you proceed, this post comes with a warning.  (this is a serious warning, not my usual idiotic sarcasm)

I'm actually pretty nervous about tonights post.  I believe I once promised complete honesty, so I can't back out now.  This post contains themes and details that most people will, and should, consider offensive.  It is not done for the sake of shock value, but in order to convey and demonstrate an number of ideas and points all at once.  As the title of this blog suggests, I do use some graphic imagery from pornography as an illustration for furthering the thought.  If this offends you, I truly apologize.  It is not my intention.  However, I hope you will see past anything in here that you think is "unnecessary" and recognize the greater point and principle.  Because, while it may not be necessary for you, I assure you, it will be necessary for others.

You have been warned.  Now, feel free to continue on to the post.

       Perhaps I should qualify a couple things first and answer any questions I suspect might be bouncing around your perceptive brains.

Yes, I’ve seen porn.  No, I don’t watch porn anymore.  Yes, my wife knows.  Yes, it’s been a long time.  No, it hasn’t been long enough.  Yes, I think porn is a very bad idea on almost every level I can think of off the top of my head.

That doesn’t mean, however, that I still don’t want to look.  There are a couple things all you ladies out there need to understand if you don’t already.

Men want to have sex with everything all the time.

We aren’t nearly as discriminating as we would like people to believe.  The criteria are basically this.  Is the lady willing and is she able?  Beyond that it’s just subjective details that largely don’t matter.

Sure, we men want you to think that we have standards and tastes.  And that’s because we do know better and want to make good decisions.  We aren’t all evil jerks.  However, that doesn’t mean the desire to mate with anything and anyone isn’t there in some way.

Is she awake?

Check.

Is she still alive?

Check.

Are either of those optional?

…

Perhaps that’s an exaggeration.  My point is that men are biologically driven to crave sex endlessly.  Fortunately, most of us do our best to use our better judgment and understanding of appropriate behavior and so forth and etc.

Unfortunately, what we know about any of that is driven by culture.

For example.  Let’s take the porn culture.  Porn would have all men believe that every woman is just dying to have you mate with them.  Porn wants you to believe that every woman has no greater desire than perform oral sex on you, and even more, that doing so gives her some sort of fantastic pleasure.  Porn wants you to believe that women crave to have your 12 inch man part (let’s not kid ourselves.  That’s not me OR you) crammed hard and fast into their happy place with the enthusiasm and force of a jackhammer.  Porn would have you believe that every woman is drooling with desire for you to enter in through the out door.  After which, porn would like you to think that after your penis has been in their anus, they want to resume oral sex and are really looking forward to having you ejaculate all over their face or breasts or buttocks.

For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about and think I’m being disgusting or am insane, this is the regular formula of a standard issue porn scene.  I haven’t just made it up.  For those of you who do know what I’m talking about, please inform those who don’t that I didn’t just make that all up.

I’m pretty sure all you women who read this and didn’t throw the book away, are all thinking, “that’s awful and, well, awful.”

I’m pretty sure all you guys who read that are thinking, “Ya, no female who isn’t getting paid large sums of money is ever going to want to be a part of that.”  At which point you sighed inside your mind with a twinge of disappointment.

Let’s be honest here.  I went to college.  So did you most of you men.  You hung with other guys and talked about women and porn and how women relate to porn.

Of course, most of us realized this wasn’t reality.  I don’t know a single guy who has ever had a proctologic exam and walked out of the office going “Wow, I can’t wait to do that again.  Maybe next time he’ll make it last for 20 minutes or so.” 

That’s because it’s unpleasant in every way.

Now, guys, how many of you have thought or fantasized about what it would be like to have porn style anal sex with your wife?  How many of you have actually asked?

Of course you didn’t.  We know it’s ridiculous.  And yet… porn style sex appeals to every part of the biological need to have sex till you pop.  Because none of that is uncomfortable for you as a man.  It’s the woman who’s taking all the abuse.  And in the movies she seems to like it just fine.

And people think porn starlet’s can’t act.

See, even though we know better, there is a part of us that wants it to be true.  Yes, most of us guys would never, EVER, even harbor the idea of asking your wife or significant other to actually go through that.  We know it would be relational suicide AND we know that’s its not really loving sex.  

There is no love there.

Just sex.  And not even kind sex.

Do I think the porn industry is trying to make people think this stuff normal?

No.  At least not all of them.  The reason they make the movie is because it isn’t normal.

But we buy into it anyway.

Let’s be clear, though.  This isn’t about porn.  Or sex.  There are many non-pornographic movies that promote the exact same idea that women are ravenous sex machines who want nothing more than for you to fulfill that need for them.

It’s not true.

What this is about is what forms the ideas of “need” and “desire” in us.

You ever heard college guys tell you “party stories?”  There are tons of variations, but they largely go like this.

“Dude, I couldn’t remember a f___ing thing!  I was sooo wasted!  I woke up in puddle of piss, I was elbow-deep in a squirrel, and I had no pants on.  It was f___ing AWESOME!!!”  (he said in a big frat-boy commando voice.)

Really?  It was awesome?  By what definition?  Because it’s a funny story?  Because your head pounded for two days afterward?  Because, you know, you can’t even remember how it all happened?

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call “fun.”

You see, we define happiness and fun and joy and fulfillment by the definitions proposed to us.  We do it, not because they are necessarily accurate, but because we don’t know ourselves and hey, they wouldn’t lie to us, right?

Because TV never lies.

Or books.  Or movies.  Or church.  Or school.  Or anyone.

Don’t get me wrong.  I like movies.  I love action sci-fi and comic books and all that.  But that doesn’t mean I have any illusion that I’m going to go out and punch my fist through a brick wall just because I saw the alien cyborg ninja mutant do it.

At this point I can feel you all going, “Yes, we know.  We aren’t morons, you know.”

Fair enough.  These are exaggerated examples that only apply to the more… “exceptional” among us.

But we all do this in smaller ways.  We see a shirt on a movie star and think this is what I need to look good.  Or maybe it’s a hair cut.

Marketing agencies make their living on the idea that this is true.  We internalize what we see and hear, whether we realize it or not, and incorporate it into thought and action.  They call it “advertising.”

You see a movie with a cool car in it… guys… and you are like, “Man… I’d drive that.”  And there is nothing wrong with that.  I’m a gear head myself.

Tell me, do you think there is a reason why car commercials and magazine ads for cars often have females either selling, driving, or standing next to the car?

I mean, what more could a guy want?  A fast car and sex.  Give him some good food and you have the trifecta of male desire.

Of course, it’s not just movies and TV and magazines.  It’s everywhere.  People we meet.  They have that certain something.  That quality that makes them seem smart or sophisticated.  And you hang on every word.  You spend your time with them making them your friend.  Eventually you start to act like them.  Become more like them.  You enjoy being with them.

It’s because we see something in them that we wish we saw in ourselves.  Maybe it’s smarts.  Maybe it’s likability.  Maybe it’s joy.  But we think that if we can be like this person who I like, others will in turn like me.  Then I’ll be happy.

It is us defining happiness by external criteria.

Unfortunately the external criteria are nothing but superficial stimuli.  It doesn’t make us happy.  It’s not true happiness.  It’s not realistic or even real at all.  It’s an illusion of reality.

It’s nothing but porn.

Lesson 1 - Did I Mention That I'm an Idiot?

         I know, I know.  I shouldn’t say that about myself (he said, referring to the title of this chapter).

Unless you think it’s true, then I suppose you are ok with me saying it.  Shame on you.

=)

Isn’t it a crazy world where I can type an emoticon into a book and everyone understands and doesn’t find it weird?

Anyway.

I’m an idiot.  But in the same way that most people are idiots.

Hold on.  Please step away from the instruments of ritual stoning.

Let me tell you what I mean before you all decide to harm me.  It’s not as bad as it sounds.

Remember when we were kids?  Well, not you and me specifically.  I’m pretty sure I’ve never met you.  At least, not all of you.  But when we were kids, it was easy to go out and have fun.  We would play games and wrestle and race each other around, jump our bicycles (yes, I’m listing male biased things.  I’m an idiot, remember?).  And it was all fun.  But you know what was even more fun?  Remember what made it even better?

When we won.

When I ran faster, biked faster, jumped farther and saved Princess Lea first.

Don’t ask about that last one.

It wasn’t just about having fun, it was knowing that I had fun better than everyone else.  That I was better.

Or smarter.

Yes, it’s childish.  Yes, it’s pointless.  Yes, we still felt really good about it.  Fortunately, we all grew up.  We learned this isn’t the way of things.  The way of the force.  That life is about something more.

And do you know what changed?

Absolutely nothing.

We still feel better when we win.  When we are proved smarter.  When we are correct.  When the other person was wrong.  We relish when the other guy is wrong.

In the end, even though we now know better, we still find our best joy in knowing we are better than everyone else around us.

It’s a bit pathetic, yes?

And THIS… is why most people, including me, are idiots.  Because we know better and still use this mindset to feel better about ourselves.  

How dumb is that?

It’s like having your car not start, getting out, and kicking the right rear tire.  Then getting back in and finding the car still doesn’t start, at which point you get out and kick the tire again.  At which point you find out the car still won’t start.

Ok, I know.  No one would ever do that.  That’s just stupid.  Unless you have, and then, um, I’m sure it was useful… somehow…

But my point is, it’s a useless and pointless way of fixing things.  What was it that someone said was the definition of insanity?  Something about doing the same thing over and over and yet expecting different results?

If being seen as better and smarter makes us feel better, if making others look less than us brings us joy, if it fixes us, then why do we keep having to do it again and again?  Why do we still feel broken later?

Why do we still feel like we have yet to achieve?  If that method was working, we would already HAVE achieved.

All we are doing is kicking the tire.

And kicking the tire hurts.  Have you ever actually done that?  Kick a car tire?  I have, when I was younger, and theoretically more stupid.  I was curious.  I’d seen people do it on TV all the time.  Which, as we know, is the most brilliant reason to do anything.  But I kicked the tire anyway only to discover it was much more solid that I had anticipated.  You know, it’s rubber and filled with air, how solid could it be?

Very, as it turns out.  My toe was sore for days.  There was zero satisfaction from that.  I decided after that, that kicking tires was a pointless act.  It didn’t actually accomplish anything.  It definitely didn’t give me any long term joy.  Or short term for that matter.  As it turned out, there was no point.

It’s funny how we as people seem to be attracted to pointless behavior.

I was watching a video the other day on this website that amuses me.  This guy let his friends shoot him in the junk with a potato gun.

Twice.

And my first thought was, “Why would you do that?!?”, closely followed by, “This guy is an idiot.”  Of course, there are tons of those videos around, right?  Guys hitting each other over the heads with planks of wood just to do it.  Hitting each other in the bean bag with bats just to see who will become sterile first.  Just to see how tough they are.

Why do we care how tough we are as men?  Do we think anyone else cares how tough we are?  Do we think they will be impressed?  Maybe we think it will impress the ladies.  But the truth is, it almost never does.  The only person it impresses is us.  

I’m not sure women care how tough they are.  However, they do compete in different ways.  Is she thinner than me?  Does my bum look fatter than hers?  It’s still a competition.  It’s just a different competition.

For some reason, we humans seem to think life is a competition.  Oddly, we have no idea what we are competing for or against.

We are living our lives, going through our days, and most of the time, we don’t even know why.  Yes yes, I know.  We are getting our paycheck so we can put food on the table and diapers on our kids.  But that is always going to be true.  That doesn’t bring us fulfillment.

Again, hold off on the angry responses for just a moment.  I completely believe that being a good parent or spouse or whatever can bring a great sense of meaning and purpose and even some fulfillment. 

What I am talking about is complete fulfillment.  At some point, even the wonders of mommy and daddyhood aren’t enough.  As any mommy and daddy will tell you, they love being parents and they love their kids and they would never give it up.  But at some point in their parenting career they realized there was still a desire for something else.  They realized that there was something still missing.

Some of these people have affairs.  Others go through some version of a midlife crisis.  Some of them change their career.  Some of them just walk away from it all.

Others simply end their life.

And it all happens because they don’t really know what it is that’s missing and they don’t know how to find it.  This is also how self destructive behavior sometimes starts.  We start looking for that one thing that makes it all better, and we are willing to try anything.

Literally, anything.

Of course, if we are smart enough, we learn quickly that “anything” is often a bad idea.  Unfortunately we are rarely smart enough.  

That’s because most of us are idiots.

Life Lessons: Introduction

I have no idea what I’m doing.  Just thought I’d warn you.

I’m not even sure why I’m doing it.  But for whatever reason, I really want to write a book.  I don’t know if I think it will make me rich, or if it will be fun, or both, or neither.

Maybe I just like hearing the sound of my own voice.  Except, you know, I can’t hear the written word.  So, I guess it’s more like reading the sound of my own voice.  But with out the voice.

Or actual sound.

Right.

Did I mention that I have no idea what I’m doing?

I do feel that writing can be cathartic, even if it is just a random spewing of thoughts.  Sometimes, that which makes us feel better is the illusion in our head.  The illusion that I did a good job, or that my words actually matter in some way.

The illusion that I matter.

It sounds bad when I say it that way, doesn’t it?  Of course people matter.  We just don’t always believe that WE matter.  That I matter.  

But we want to.

We want to know that our lives have purpose and impact and are more than just a series of pointless events strung across time.  So, even when we aren’t sure… or perhaps, especially when we aren’t sure… we will create the illusion in our own heads that what we do, who we are, what we say, matters.  We want to feel better about ourselves.

Huh.  That sounds depressingly pathetic.

That is not actually my intention.  And really, what do I know?  I’m no psychologist.  I don’t know what you are thinking.  I don’t know why you think it, even if I say I do.  Which, I will probably do.

But everyone wants to feel better.  Even if they already feel good.  We want to laugh.  We want to improve.  Progress.  Run faster, farther.  Be skinnier and more muscular.  Have more hair in the right places and less in the wrong places.

That’s a weird one, right?  It’s amazing how much power ones hair has.  Nothing makes you feel older or look older than losing your hair.  

Trust me, I know all about this.  Mine has not so much disappeared as it has migrated.  It’s pretty patchy up top, but fortunately my body compensated by giving me extra all over and inside my nose.

Then there is my little patch of lower back goodness.  Or the random patches on my chest, belly and nipples.

That’s right, all you young attractive and body-hair free guys.  Just wait… your time is coming.  Once, not long ago, I was like you.  Full head of awesome.  Hairless pecks of glory.  Six-pack abs of sexy.

Now, I’m mostly sweaty and smell bad.  

I still sometimes try to act suave and sexy for my wife.  Which really makes her giggle.  But not in that turned on sort of way.  More in that awkward embarrassed sort of way.  In that, “Oh honey, you’re so silly.  You keep trying, and that’s… sweet…”

This works wonders for my ego.  It keeps reality in check.  Or perhaps, it keeps me in check, and snuggly tethered to reality.

It also keeps me jogging.  I can’t begin to describe all the ways THAT sucks.  They tell you that you get some sort of high or rush from jogging.

Lies.

All lies.

You know what I get from jogging?  

Tired.  Sore.  Out of breath.  Sweaty.  That feeling of such utter exhaustion and fatigue and inability to, you know, breath… that I beg God to strike me dead where I stand.

That’s my jogging experience.

However, to be fair, since I started jogging again, I’ve lost 20 pounds as of this sentence.  I can actually see my abs again.  I’d forgotten that I had more than one.  I can see four real clear, and two more are beginning to come out of hiding.  I’m buying shirts a size smaller now.  I no longer get out of breath when starting the car.  And you know what?

I feel pretty good about that.  I look better.  I feel better.  It turns out, all that work is worth it.  The pain and exhaustion.  

The other day my wife noticed that my arms had muscles.  At first I was thinking, “You mean they didn’t before?”  But then I realized she was noticing a difference in me.  A difference she liked.

And that made me feel good about me.

Which made me go out and by a nice, new, tailored suit.  And by “nice”, I mean “cheap”.  Let’s face it, I can’t afford nice.  I mean, it’s not high society.  But it does look the business.  I put on that suit, and I think, “if you weren’t so bald, you’d look totally sweet.”

So, I wear a fedora with it instead.  I like my fedora.  It looks good.  And oddly, it looks good when I wear my Green Lantern t-shirt, jeans, and Converse All-stars.

Although, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who thinks so.

But does that matter?  

Well, probably yes.  But not as much as it used to.  And maybe that’s the real improvement.  It’s not the hat or the suit or shirt or the new-found abs.  Maybe it’s just knowing I can be a better me, an improved me, or that I can be happy with me.  

Because, all that superficial crap is meaningless.  My wife loved me when I was just sweaty and hairy and bald.  Does she love me more now that I have a nice suit and a trimmer figure?

No.  Sure, she is now ok being seen with me in public, and no longer hides behind the closest tree when some body walks by.

But she cared more about who I was inside, than what I was outside.

Why didn’t I?

Maybe that’s why I’m writing this book.  

I'm Back, I'm Sorry, I'm a Bad Person, and Other Things So Please Read Thank You.

Sooo... how do I explain myself?

That is going to be tough since I'm not sure I actually have a good excuse.  My last post told you about a project I was working on.  Since then I've changed jobs (no, I wasn't fired... might have even been promoted-ish), moved (no, I wasn't evicted), significantly improved my health (no, I... actually, ya, I am kind of healthier now), and have been trying to deal with life.

Let's focus on that last one.

I would like to preface this and say, any personal issues I may or may not hint at are pretty minor in the grand scheme of things and really don't stack up well against people who have actual problems.  

Let's pause there for a second.  If you are new to this blog and have never ready any thing here and might not know who I am or what this whole thing is about, I encourage you to go back and read my old posts.  Emphasis on old.  I couldn't believe how long it had been since my last post till recently when I checked out the page.  I was shocked and embarrassed.

In a nutshell, I talk about life and stuff about life and lessons learned there-in, usually in embarrassing ways that have to do with me being an idiot, hence the title of my blog.

Back to my poor excuse for excuses.

Life got "hard".  While, it could be argued that my life was being "successful", it was by no means "easy."  I'm using quotes to let you know the relative quality of those words.  One man's torture is another man's vacation.  Or so I'm told.  I don't look at those websites and you can't prove otherwise.

When things get difficult there are lots of ways people can react.  In my case I started withdrawing from stuff just to avoid extra work and other things, like, you know, thinking.  No, it wasn't actually that bad.  But I was getting distracted by life more and more and it got harder and harder to focus on and remember to do the things I actually enjoy.

Like this blog, for example.

But you know what is funny?  All that time I wasn't writing and posting to this blog, I was actually writing.  At some point, I don't remember when, I decided to try writing a bit more organized form of the blog and see if I could make it a "book".  I even managed to hack out 10 chapters plus an Introduction.

I never moved passed that stage.  I finished chapter 10 over a year ago or more.

One thing that is strange about me is that, as a leader type person, I am required to make regular decisions about stuff and things.  And I do just fine in that regard.  But in my personal life, sometimes when I'm not sure how to move forward with something, my decision making abilities sort of shut down.

As dumb as that makes me sound, I still like that better than just saying "I got lazy."  You pick the one that makes you all happy and glowy inside.

It turns out I've been in a really good place career wise for a while now and I've had the time to do this regularly, and I have continued to put it off.  I honestly do not know why.

Even as I sat down to finally suck it up and do this, I hesitated.  I realized the emotion was "fear."

Seriously.

Fear.

I was literally afraid to write this post and continue forward and pick up where I left of and keep trying.

"Why?" I hear you ask?  "What's wrong with you?" you maybe thinking, and, "Are you stupid or something?" you could rightly ask.

I truly am not certain.  I think partially because it had been so long, I was afraid no one would read.  I have let down a few faithful readers and people who looked forward to my posts, however idiotic they may be.  And that's a big deal, because I'm not sure there were that many people reading in the first place.

At least, that's what I thought.  As it turns out, I'm a moron.

This will make me sound dumb, but I hadn't considered actually checking the traffic checker for this page.  It seems there have been many thousands of people checking this page, even during this long dry period.

I'm sure many of them found this page looking for something else.  I'm not so arrogant as to think this thing was what people were looking for.  But man... people have been looking, and checking, and waiting, and I'd been letting them down.

I feel like a bad person.  (have I garnered enough sympathy yet to move forward?  Let's find out...)

So, here is what I'm going to do.  I'm going to post those fledgling book chapters.  And then I will keep posting new stuff.  And, I may even throw in some extra "fun" stuff as well.  Some of you know I was an artist/designer by trade in my first post college career.  Not an amazing one, but, good enough.  Well, I've been working on a web cartoon/comic/thingy.  It's not ready yet.  I have a couple completed strips, but not enough to be ready to start posting them, and quite frankly, I'm not sure how often I want to, or even can, post them.

But I want to... I need to... make this blog into something more.  I need to have this thing in my life that is simple and honest.  The rest of my life is also honest, but it's usually far from simple.

However, for tonight, I will post this, um, post, and then I will immediately post the introduction to the "book" I was writing.  Maybe one day I will decide it's done and maybe even publish it.  I could certainly use the money.  But I realized that, those words shouldn't be about the money, and that they should be free for those who can find them, and if I publish later, then yay and whatever.  But if I can say anything that helps someone, or causes someone to consider life differently in some way, then I should do that.  That is the true purpose.  It's the thing that matters.  Doing something that improves the life of someone else.

I think I lost sight of that before.  I got caught up in my own life, and forgot about everyone else.  Which, for those who don't know me and you do go back and ready my old posts, you will understand the irony in that failure.

I hope you, my former faithful readers, will forgive me for the last few years of blogging silence.  It was not super cool.

Alright, all my groveling and excuse making, done, let me tell you about what I will be posting.  (yes, I know this is getting long.)

The book was to be titled the same as the blog.  Each chapter was titled as a "Lesson".  They are better structured and thought through, as my old ones are bit more haphazard and slapdash.  They probably have typo's in them.  I proof read really well as long as someone else wrote it.  But when I proof read my own work, I'm pretty awful at catching mistakes.  I'm not going to edit them, or change them.  This means you will read some stuff which may be dated.  In those cases, I have, when I've caught it, added one of these (words and stuff) with the updated info or time frame.

Also, the posts will refer to themselves as a "book" sometimes.  I know about it, I'm not going to change it.  My reasons are excuses, excuses, more excuses, lazy, excuse, and excuses.

One of those reasons is correct.

Ok, enough putting it off.  Here we go.  Tonight, I give you "Life Lessons:  The Further Adventures of a Perpetual Idiot - Introduction".

Interlude: Thanksgiving Goodness and my Pet Project.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

Except you in the corner. You know who you are…

I don’t know about you, but I had a great Thanksgiving. Good food, good people… good food… all in all, a day well had. And, I got to spend lots of quality time with both of my nieces. The new one and the less new one. They are great. Unclehood is a wonderful thing.

I was trying to decide what I am most thankful for. And really, I’m not sure I can narrow it down to one thing I’m more thankful for than anything else. Some of the top contenders are… (in no particular order)

I’m not dead. (always a classic)
I’m not homeless.
My wife is awesome and also isn’t dead.
I’m not being hunted by ninja assassins. (that I know of…)
I finally finished a long running project. (more on that later.)

There are many others. Some probably more important than the ones I’ve listed. I could go on about the rest of my family, my friends… both real and imaginary… and my churches. But I won’t bore you with the details. In the end, I have to conclude that my life is very good. Better than it has any right to be.

I mentioned my new niece, right? She’s about a month old. She is just this little peanut. I can’t get enough. And her older sister is just growing so fast. She’s 3.5 years old. I gave her pony rides. She likes to sit on my back while I scramble about on my hands and knees, and then buck her off onto the couch.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Good times.

Now, about that long running project. Some of you are aware of it, some of you are not. What we’ve been doing is trying to get one of my churches set up to record video and stream it live whenever I preach there. And finally, after many setbacks, it is done and ready. We are now set up to both stream live, and keep previously recorded sermons available for on-demand viewing. All one needs is a computer and a decent internet connection.

And a desire to listen to me preach badly.

I mean, really, does everyone think the sound of their own voice sounds stupid once it’s recorded, or is it just me?

Maybe, you should answer that.

Anyway, the website is http://www.rockfallssdachurch.org/. If one decides to go there, at the top of the page is a link called “Live and On-Demand Sermons.”

Or you can click here. http://www.rockfallssdachurch.org/article.php?id=7

On that page are a number of links. One is a schedule of dates that will be streamed live. It’s not every week because I have three churches I have to rotate through. So, the dates are listed there.

Just below that is a link titled “Watch Live Now.” I believe it’s purpose is pretty self explanatory.

Below THAT, is a section with links to previously recorded sermons. On-demand sermons, if you will. Should you go there, you will notice they have been broken into parts. This is because we are poor. Hosting is expensive, so we are using a free service that requires file sizes be small. This means we have to break large files into smaller pieces. Fortunately, most sermons only need two pieces.

Also, because it’s a free service, sometimes there are advertisements before the sermon starts. If that bothers any of you, I’m sorry. I do have a solution, though. Put a finger in each ear, close your eyes, then shout really loud till the commercial ends. It should help you avoid the grotesque evil that is a cotton towel commercial. (he said with sarcasm…)

Now, I realize that perhaps not all of your, or even any of you, are interested in this. But for those who might be, there it is.

I encourage you to share the links with anyone and everyone, should you feel it is appropriate to do so. It’s easy to use, and handy if someone wants to be at church, but can’t, or doesn’t go to church, but is interested in hearing a sermon, or just wants to do something different.

It is my hope that one day it can help create a safe, enjoyable and active internet fellowship community. Call it church if you wish. Worshipping and learning about God is more than just sitting in church. I would go so far as to say just sitting in church is the farthest thing from it.

I want there to be a place for someone who is interested in God, but doesn’t feel comfortable in church. It’s my hope that this will help there.

So, please, try it out if you wish, let me know if you run into problems, and I hope you all have a great weekend.

Till next time.

Blog 17: An Idiot's Tale

Greetings.

Welcome to another installment of…
“Stupid Things Done By Tony”

In today’s episode, we find our perpetual idiot helping a grieving family as they prepare for the funeral.

“What could possibly go wrong there?” I hear you say.

Well, let me tell you all the ways I can be stupid. Ok, in my defense, it was only one way in which I was stupid, but I digress. Let me tell you all about it.

Last Friday I received a phone call from a person who attends a church in the next town over. The 52 year old son of one of the members passed away due to a heart attack. They are trying to plan for the funeral, however their pastor is out of town and can’t get back in time. Therefore, they decided to call me and ask if I would be willing to perform the funeral for them.

Of course, I said yes. Not because I just love doing funerals. I don’t. I’m happy to do them because it’s necessary and needs to be done. But it’s not what I categorize as “fun.” However, I’ve done my fair share in the last few years and have become more or less comfortable doing them.

As a side note, it’s amazing the things you can get used to. But continuing on…

I don’t know this person or family. I tell them to contact me back once they know when the funeral will be, and I will sit down with them and work out the details and talk and pray with them.

Now, let me clarify something. Some of you may be wondering, “Why wait for them to get the funeral scheduled before rushing right over to be with the family?”

You ask a good question. Here is my answer. I have found that the first couple days after a death are a whirlwind of phone calls and trips to the funeral home and scheduling and taking care of business paralleled only by wedding preparations. Therefore, unless I was called in before the death happened, i.e., coming to the hospital to sit with the family as they watch their loved one die, I try to stay out of the way till they actually have the time to focus on themselves. Until then, I’m only getting in the way.

And this is what I did. I waited till Sunday and then we set a time to get together. Not to ring my own bell, (trust me, I’ll be humiliating myself in a moment…), but this turned out to be perfect timing. They told me how this was the first time since the man died that they’d had a moment to sit down. They were finally done setting up the arrangements, and were just now catching their breath.

Ah, how my ego soared as I realized, once again, my superior wisdom and judgment paid off.

Well, as I listened to them and talked with them and narrowed down what would be in the actual service and let them talk about their fear and anger and frustration and denial and whatever else popped in their heads, I gave them sage wisdom and advice designed to lift their spirits and give home without trivializing their loss and grief.

Oh yes. I’m THAT good. (ugh…)

Well, after my brilliant afternoon with these people, and by people I mean mother and wife, I prayed with them and for them and headed for the door.

Let me pause here for a moment. Let me tell you the other half of my day. It’s important for what I said to this family next.

I’ve been trying to exercise more. It happens in spurts, but I’ve been getting better. That morning my wife and went out and jogged about three miles before I had to stop for fear of my heart and lungs bursting forth from my chest cavity. After that, we went out and did the week’s yard work. Cut the grass, trimmed everything… you know, stuff like that.

I was completely toasted. I was done. Absolutely tired. I was ready to take a shower and go right back to bed. It took all I had just to get out of the chair when it was time to go visit with these people.

The lessen here is, do your best to avoid trying to be the patient, wise, strong, comforting figure when you are wanting nothing else than to not be any of those things. I know, life happens and we don’t always have the option… but still, go into it with the knowledge that you aren’t at your best and proceed with caution.

Back to my story. Ok, I think I’ve played this up so much that you are probably going to find this anti-climactic. But here it goes.

As I’m heading to the door, the mom and wife see me out and notice what a beautiful day it is. They say, “Wow, so are you going to out and enjoy the beautiful day?”

I said, “Oh, I’ve already done that. I jugged like mad this morning and worked the rest of the time in the yard. I’m so beat I could just drop dead.”

“…I could just drop dead.” He said to the people who’s funeral he, not 2 minutes before was helping them deal with and plan.

Really? I just said that? I smiled and walked off as if I hadn’t said it, and they didn’t react, but I felt like the worlds biggest jerk/idiot. I sat in my car pretending to check a message when actually I was begging God make them not remember that I had just said that.

Seriously? I could just drop dead? I might as well have said, “I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack and die just like your son tragically did. Isn’t that funny? How weird. Te he.”

Just to be clear, I don’t generally make those mistakes. And, maybe, that was the problem. I went into this situation very confident. Confidence isn’t bad, mind you. But I had just been thinking that day as I was pulling out my funeral sermon texts and getting ready, how, “I’ve done so many funerals in the last couple years, I’m getting pretty good at this death and family thing. I’m getting good and putting people at ease. Maybe I am cut out for this stuff after all.”

And then not 3 hours later… “I could just drop dead.”

You go long enough without the world noticing your mistakes that you start to believe that really don’t make them. I know better, of course. And yet, knowing it didn’t seem to stop me from shove my foot knee deep into my mouth.

I know that I’ve talked about pride and ego more than once. This is just another angle at which these things can just step up and thwack us in the head. Comfort is good. But in some situations, there is such a thing as being too comfortable. So comfortable that you let your guard down and start making stupid choices. Saying stupid things.

We like to pick on young people for this problem. You know else does it well?

Everyone else.

I have an elderly lady in one church who tells you point blank that she can get away with saying anything she wants because she’s old and people feel they have to let her. So she just takes advantage of it. I have no less than 5 other people notorious in my churches for doing also, even though they don’t make any claims about it.

You know who else is bad at it? Married people. They get about six months to a year into their marriage and decide they don’t have to be nice and thoughtful anymore. They say things in a tone and manner they would have never used when dating. Or with anyone else EVER, for that matter. And they… we… rationalize like this. “What? We’re married. I shouldn’t have to be careful.”

I’ve actually had people say this to me about themselves as if it’s a profound truth.

My response is always, “Um, yes, you do.” We do. We shouldn’t stop just because we are married. We should try even harder BECAUSE we are married. Love should drive us to want this. And if we don’t… well, I’d start asking myself, “why?”

You’ve heard the saying, “Love is never having to say you’re sorry.” Well, ok. I get the meaning. If you are acting in love, you will never do anything that you need to apologize for. And, that is true. But here is what is more true.

No matter how hard we try, we always screw up and do or say something stupid. Even in marriage and friendships. So, I like to say it like this. “Love is always being first to say you’re sorry.”

Of course, this isn’t about marriage. It’s about life. It’s about any person we come in contact with. The situations of life in which we exist.

Do we get so comfortable with ourselves and our abilities that we careless and thoughtless?

I did. I got lucky. I know other people who would have melted down right there had I said that. It was thoughtless and insensitive, even though it wasn’t intentional. Now, think about the times we do stuff like that and it IS intentional?

Don’t let our competence get in the way of our compassion. Don’t let our thoughts get in the way of our thoughtfulness.

Of course, it could just be me. Maybe I’m the only moron who does stuff like this. In which case, feel free to ignore me.

Have a great night.

Blog 16: A Donkey's Butt

Ok.

I’ve been a very bad boy.

I have posted since May? April, if I’m being honest?

For those of you who actually care about what I say, I’m sorry for that. Not sorry for you caring, sorry that I’ve let you down. It’s been a busy summer, but really, that’s just a lame excuse. I could have found time to do this. I enjoy doing this. I am so happy when I see that someone has actually read this, and even more, when someone says, “hey, what you just said wasn’t total feces.”

It makes me feel all warm and tingly in my intestines.

The problem is, I had(have?) been feeling as though I was(am?) swimming in the icky waters of misguided purpose.

The real irony of that is that, it was the great summer that led me to that feeling.

I spent a huge chunk of the summer at summer camp. As usual. I love it. It was even better than last year for me. And last year was great. I felt like what I did made a difference. I felt like I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t just to get people to take me seriously. I could just be me. I was working with mostly teens so, maybe that means I’m a tad immature if “being me” is a lot like being a teenager. Hmm…

But I had fun. And I saw great things. And young people were coming to me and asking questions on their own without prompting. And we had great discussions. And people gave their lives to God. I was once again reminded that there is hope for our young people.

Then I had to come home. Immediately, all the sincere searching was replaced with ridiculous church politics. People trying to make statements, not find God in their lives. Not everyone, of course. But it doesn’t take too many before you start sharpening pointy objects and making plans to use them.

One day, after a particularly ridiculous afternoon listening to some particularly ridiculous lunacy, my wife and I came home, walked in the door, stopped and looked each other in the eye, and at the exact same time said, “It’s time for us to leave.”

I can’t speak for her, but for me I was realizing, I’m a youth pastor. With no youth. I am in the wrong place with the wrong people. It’s not my strength. It’s not my purpose. It’s not my blah blah blah, whatever.

Whine whine whine, is what I did.

I started thinking about the last 6 years of my life and trying to figure out what it had to do with anything? Why get cancer twice in four years? Why did it suck worse the second time? Why have I had to suffer so much physically? (understand, I’m the guy answers these questions for other people…) Why am I in a place with people who make me insane? (Not all of them. Not even most of them.) Oh whoa is me. My life is hard, why can’t things ever go right? Why can’t I just be in a place where things work and my I don’t have to have the responsibilities that I have and I can just focus on the stuff that ACTUALLY MATTERS… instead of all the lunacy that normally deal with? Why why why?

I spent a fair amount of time looking and praying for a new place to be. I even went to my boss and let him know that it needed to happen. I even cried. A lot. I think my boss is convinced I’m insane. It’s too bad he won’t see this. Maybe I should send it to him. Hmm…

Anyway.

Nothing came of my desires to go somewhere else. I’ve slowly been resigning myself to the idea that, for now, this is still it.

Tonight, my asked me if I had seen that my friend (insert fake name… here.) had started a blog. I said, “Huh, really? I hadn’t noticed. I’ve been too self absorbed in my life to care about anyone else’s.”

Actually, I only said the fist half of that.

So, being the good friend I am (stepping aside to avoid the lightning…), I pulled up and read it. First, not only is it good, which didn’t surprise me, I noticed something that I had largely not paid attention to recently.

Other people have rough lives too.

Which led me to another conclusion.

I’m a self-absorbed donkey butt.

This guy is one of my best friends. We met the first week of seminary. We became great friends and basically did everything together for three years until we graduated. Video games, classes, skipping classes… you know, the good stuff.

It turns out that, while I’ve been absorbed how much my cancer sucked, and did suck, and how much my life can be crazy, and it can be, and how much I want things that I can’t have, which I do… HE has not only been worrying about keeping his pastoral life in some sort of normal range, same as me, but also been trying to keep his marriage from exploding into a gory mess of awful. And while he’s been trying to keep THAT together, he’s been praying to God that his wife won’t follow through on the urges to kill herself AND their infant child. And while trying to work through THAT, trying to come to the grips with the fact that, the status of her depression may or may not get much better.

I believe in honesty. So when I tell you that there were serious moments near the end of my chemotherapy where I wanted to die rather go through anymore, know that I’m not exaggerating. It was THAT bad.

Every day.

But then I got better. So far. Now, it’s just a memory. A bad one, sure, but a memory. I’m not still sick. And those churches I’m so frustrated with? They are growing. God is blessing there. They aren’t growing because of me. They are growing because God is making it happen. I could take another entire blog to explain why I believe that. I’m watching God do great things here in my district all the time.

And instead of being excited about it, I’m whining about things that are transient. My life is easy. It’s good. I never have to worry that one day I’m going to come home to find my family dead. My biggest worry is whether or not I will get a phone call and have to listen to the crazy lady chew my ear off for 20 minutes about how she washed socks and had a bowel movement. (true story)

Sure, I sometimes worry about whether I’ll get cancer again. But that’s not much different from everyone else. “Gee, I hope I never get cancer like that Tony guy. That seems like the opposite of fun.”

In reality, I’m a selfish, self-absorbed child, complaining about how I don’t get my way, and get to do the things I want to do the way I want to do them. Sure, I have friends who’s lives are seriously stressed and they are scared every day about something truly important. But hey, that’s not important, right? Why should the life of my friends matter to me?

Ugh. I’m such a schmuck.

I don’t even know that that means, but I’m sure it’s true.

And because of this, I’ve focused more on me, instead of doing stuff that matters. Like blogging, for example. It may not matter to most of you. But even if there is only one person who feels it makes a difference to them, then it’s completely worth it.

Everything is transient. Good things and bad things both. Life, is transient. It’s too bad I haven’t been living as if I believe that. I teach every day that the thing that matters is most is self less love toward others.

I’m just not sure I’ve actually learned that lesson. At least, it seems like I haven’t.

For this, I apologize. You may ask, “Why?” The answer is simple. Nothing happens in a vacuum. Selfishness impacts everyone around the offender. I can’t be selfish without someone else being negatively effected by it.

I recently taught that the reality of Salvation is selfless love. From God to us, and us to Him and others.

I asked myself if I felt this described me.

I haven’t answered myself yet. I’m truly afraid of what I might say.

It’s easy for me to sit back and see the flaw of other people. To see their problems and dissect them and analyze them. But it’s down right painful to do it to myself.

Maybe if I did it more often, it wouldn’t be so bad. Or maybe, if I did it more often, I wouldn’t have to do it at all. I’m not actually sure that made sense. But there it is. I said it.

After all of this, what is my point? Why do I bother to tell you all of this? Is it just a plea for sympathy?

No. Sure, sympathy feels nice, but it doesn’t actually solve problems.

When you try to live life in a vacuum, all you do is create a black hole. You create a zone of awful that just sucks the people around you in. Being self absorbed makes the life of the people around stressful and miserable. It creates tension and conflict. I’ve seen that. I’ve seen my wife and I fight over stupid… stupid stuff. I’ve seen myself get mad over absolutely ridiculous things.

If this describes you, I have good news. You have the power to do something about it. You can actually change this. I recommend prayer and surrender and determination. But the understanding that is needed is, the thing you do next is your choice. No one can make you stay where you are. No one can make you stay miserable. No one can make you live a life you hate. And whether what’s need is a change of location, or just a change in attitude, it’s still a choice that you can make.

I have a choice I have to make in my life. No one can make it but me.

What choice are you going to make?