The 12 Blogs of Christmas: Part 1 "The Red Nosed Redundancy"

"Good grief... another consumerist Christmas blog."

"It's Christmas time again," and I can't imagine how many blogs and articles across the nation have started off with that very expression. Lights are up, music is in the air, and people are shoveling mounds of sugar down their gullet like they're clearing a driveway of snow. Shoppers are shopping and family members are fearing that moment around the Christmas tree when that one uncle mumbles under his eggnog laden breath, "... freakin' Obama." YES! "It's Christmas time again!" As much as I would love to be original and not bank on the use of common phrase or cliché, I am at the mercy of the 12-month holiday rotation.

I remember always entering the holiday season with mixed emotions. When I was a kid it was a lot of fun and games... and presents! (Can't forget the presents!) But by the time I got midway through my college career, things were different. I certainly still loved the time off from school, time with my family, the food (and presents!!!), but I also felt a tension. As much as I loved my family, I had been growing and developing into a new person during my time away at school. I had been a leader of ministries and had the respect of my peers. Even professors were commending me for my work and for my thoughts. I was coming into my own, but my family had missed all of this. They did not read my papers or watch me go through trials and challenges. To them, I was still the eighteen year old boy that left their home in 2001 (yes... I'm that old.)

Do you see how my family smothers me?!!

This feeling of being "known, yet unknown" continued on into my mid-twenties. Thus, every time I went home for Christmas, I continued to struggle. I didn't like being 24 years old and feeling like I was 18 again. This internal frustration kept me from enjoying the holiday vacation and made me angry with those whom I love most.

"I'M DIFFERENT NOW!"
"Oh, Greg... It's time for a haircut."

Then something happened. I realized I have control of how I respond and perceive my circumstances... even at home with my family. I didn't have to fall back into my role as "youngest child" anymore. I didn't have to be who "I was." I could simply be "who I am."

You see, there is both a darkness and a beauty to the redundancy and cycle of the Christmas season. If we take the passive position and let Christmas happen to us, we leave ourselves open and vulnerable to the attack of the same bitterness, unmet expectation, and sorrow every year. This is the vicious cycle and the dark-side of redundancy. If, however, we take control of our responses and seek understanding, we can actually do Christmas better. We might even find that the actions or statements that would hurt and maim were actually coming from a place of love and can actually be received as such.

I strongly believe that there is redemption and reconciliation to be found in the redundancy. Thank God, it's Christmas time again! Although, we cannot control others and how they respond, within us a peace can be born. I pray we all find mercy in the 12-month holiday rotation.

Stay tuned for more of... THE 12 BLOGS OF CHRISTMAS!

One down. Eleven to go. heh! heh! heh!

What The Bell!?

"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me... For my yoke is easy and my burden is light," (Matt 11:29-30)

Do I have any Food Network lovers in the house? Of course I do. How could you not love the Food Network? Iron Chef America? Chopped? If you don't love it, you are either way too involved in sports channels or are still trying to convince yourself that your life is better off without cable. On that last point you might be correct... maybe... but that is a blog topic for another day.

I bring it up because a few years ago I was flipping through the channels and happened to catch Rachael Ray doing her thing.  Now most of the time when I see Rachael Ray on the TV I have this overwhelming urge to say, "Hey! ... Just sit there and calm down..." (She 's a bit high energy for me.) Be that as it may, I have to admit that this woman knows her way around the kitchen and in this moment she was working with one of my favorite ingredients... the bell pepper.

"Yeah. Yeah. I said something nice. Cool it, Rachael!"

So fresh. So crisp. The bell pepper rings out with deliciousness and for me it doth toll. But this blog is not about bell peppers; it's about what Rachael did with those peppers. To prep it for chopping, she simply halved it then ripped out the guts with her hand! I KNOW, RIGHT?! MINDBLOWN!!! It took her 2 seconds!

All these years I had been delicately carving out the seeds and white stuff with a small knife while making sure I didn't get any of those tiny seeds on my hands and fingers. In that moment, it was as if Rachel had turned to me and yelled, "Come on, you pansy! Get your hands dirty! This is cooking, not ballet class!" And she was right.

"But, but... the seeds are tiny... and sticky... and... eeeee..."

What once was tedious and cumbersome was now fast and efficient because I learned how to do it properly.

So I go back to the Matthew passage I quoted at the beginning of this article. At first look, I see contradiction. A slow reading of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5-7) will quickly reveal that Jesus' way of doing life is quite difficult. It goes against what feels natural. I am supposed to love my enemies, make things right with my adversary, give to the needy, not allow anger and lust to dictate my actions, not judge others and not worry about money, food or clothes... THESE ARE ALL THINGS THAT I DO ON A REGULAR BASIS! What is easy or light about changing how I do everything???

"Maybe if we switch sides..."

Why do you think Rachael Ray on the Food Network? Could it be that she knows what she is talking about?

What if the Sermon on the Mount was not given to make our lives more difficult? What if the way we are living life is actually tedious, cumbersome, and more destructive than we think? What if Jesus actually knows what He is talking about? What if his yoke truly is easy and his burden light?

What would that say about Jesus? What does that say about us?

In conclusion... I like bell peppers.

"Heyo! Ring-a-ding-ding!"

Bills! Bills! Bills!

"... staying... calm... staying... calm..."

I used to be a little hot head when I was kid. I would get so mad at some of the dumbest things. For example, do you remember the Buffalo Bills? I realize that this team still exists, but I'm talking about THE BUFFALO BILLS (circa. 1990-93).

How a young boy from Iowa would adopt this northeastern NFL team as his own is another story, but what you need to know now is that I thought this team was the freakin' bee's knees (just dripping with honey). Names like Jim Kelly, Thurman Thomas, Bruce Smith, and Andre Reed may mean nothing to you, but to me... these were the gods of the NFL gridiron. It was upon these men's shoulder pads that I placed my trust. They were my harbingers of happiness.

Look at 'em! Like red and blue clad knights!

You can imagine my delight when the Bills destroyed the AFC conference and walked into Super Bowl XXV ready to claim their title as NFL champions. When they lost by a last minute field goal to the New York Giants, I remember being filled with so much anger I just paced around wanting to hit things. (I'm pretty sure my mother was concerned for my mental stability.)

"The boy is crazy!"

1991 rolled around and the Bills made it to the Super Bowl again... only to lose to the Redskins. In 1992, they stormed back claiming that the third time was a charm... only to be pulverized by the stupid Dallas Cowboys 52-17. Then, somehow, in 1993, the Bills pulled together what morale they had left and once again made it to the Super Bowl... to once again lose to the Cowboys.

"You're killing me, Smalls!"

See! Don't you want to punch him?

Each loss was punishing, but the 4th Super Bowl loss was more than I could bear. I desperately wanted to punch Emmitt Smith (the Cowboys running back and probably one of the nicest guys to ever play the game) in the face and blame him for all my pain and suffering. He was the devil!

Yep... I had issues

I felt betrayed. This had to be a conspiracy. Jim Kelly had failed me. Thurman Thomas didn't come through. Bruce Smith might as well have stayed home. And don't get me started on Andre Reed! They broke my heart, and the Dallas Cowboys still make me cringe. I was so disheartened that I never watched a Buffalo Bills game again... seriously!

Now, was all of this a bit extreme? Absolutely! I was a stupid kid who placed so much of his identity and hope for happiness on the outcome of an unpredictable game that I was crushed. The Bills played their best, but not good enough to win that day.

The funny thing is that if the Bills had won, my life would be no different. I may have been happy for a day or two and felt affirmed in my choice of loyalties, but nothing in my life that matters would have actually changed for the better. I realize that this entry was a bit random, but it seemed like a good time of year to tell a story about placing one's hopes and dreams on a team full of fallible humans... you know... because it's football season.

"Hey, Normy! I think Greg's trying to say something without sayin' it."
"Heh! Heh! Heh!"

Go... Sip Away!

You want to know what I love? Before you get too cutesy with your guesses, I'll just tell you. I love pop... or soda... or Coke... or whatever your location of America calls this bubbly, syrupy and tasty beverage. It is so freaking good! Just one sip and you can't stop. The way it feels as it crosses your tongue... it's magical! I am not kidding you; there have been moments in my life where a can of Mt. Dew has felt like I gift from the heavens. Just listen a freshly poured soda. It sounds like applause.

Yaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!! The crowd goes wild!

But despite what the more academically accomplished cousin of Mr. Pibb will tell you, soda is NOT what the doctor ordered. Soda is bad. It is so bad for you. It messes up your teeth and it's loaded with calories, sugar and chemicals. It's basically liquefied candy that somehow became socially acceptable to drink with meals.

Remember! This is not a health blog. This news about soda makes me very sad and even a bit angry.  How could something so good be so bad?! Yet even though I know how horrible this nectar of the gods may be... I keep sipping. I sip and I sip again. And then I get a refill. At least with beer you start to feel a little full after a while. With pop, a 32 oz cup can be considered a MEDIUM! Somehow you can just keep sipping.

... saddest picture I've ever posted. I'M SORRY, MT. DEW!!! 

On a related note (because I just love these spiritual parallels), I have also noticed how much I love to run my mouth. Doesn't it feel so good to start sentences with "Did you hear about..." or "Don't tell him I told you this but..." Then you get to bubble over with juicy details.

My words about other people taste even sweeter when I have been hurt by them. I get to say, "I can't believe he said..." or  "These people really need to...." Mmm Mmm Mmm! I just love the way the words feel across my tongue. I revel in declaring my judgments behind backs that I would never have the courage to say to faces.

"He said whaaaat???"

Well, we have another problem here. Guess what? ... Gossip and slander fall into that whole "sin" category, which is not good for you or anyone. Its damaging and toxic.

And aren't we hilarious? We Christian types love to rename our carbonated utterances as "venting" or "healthy honesty". It's kind of like how we slap "Diet" on the side of a can and believe it is somehow good for us. There may be a time and place for venting, but that should be with somebody who is trustworthy, wise and won't agree with us all the time.

The real problem is that these words and condemnations can actually poison us. Jesus even says, "It's not what goes into the mouth, but what comes out that makes one clean or unclean." He knew how these "diet ventings" show the character of our hearts, impact our communities and shape our lives. "Don't be dull!" (Matt 15:16). We need to quit this stuff and we need to quit it fast.

But it's not going to be easy. How do you not take a sip when you have 42 ounces of the juicy stuff right there in your hand? Well... come on down to Wallace's Pub, grab a beer and lets start by talking about it. Maybe we'll discover that this kind of constructive chatter is actually refreshing and won't leave you with a weird taste in your mouth.

Hear! Hear!

Donation Denied

I was doing it. I was finally going to be a responsible human being within our society. I was going to be one who gives back. I was going to be about saving lives. I was ready to be a hero. So there I sat, patiently waiting, in a curtained-off cubicle while being asked questions that would make your dirty Uncle Steve blush.

It didn't matter. I didn't care. Now was my moment and I was ready. Hand me my cape... It's hero time!

Sadly, it didn't matter whether I felt ready or that I wanted to help. The good people at the blood donation station had deemed my blood unusable and politely asked me to go home. Before you start worrying (and "thank you!" if you were), my blood was rejected because my wife and I had gone to an area of Mexico for our honeymoon that was at risk for exposure to Malaria. Neither of us has been sick with malaria, but the saintly blood takers of the Red Cross would rather be safe than sorry.

rejected

Walking into that room with all the tables and needles, I had filled my head with thoughts of donating at least once a month if possible. I was ready to give. I was going to make a difference.

Walking out, I wasn't even allowed to think about donating for at least a year. No matter how much I wanted to help and how much I wanted to give, I was barred from doing so.

I've been amazed recently by how much this theme comes up in my life. I want to help... but I can't. I want to fix something... but I'm not allowed.

It is not that I have such horrible ideas; it is simply that I am INCAPABLE of helping. This reality is infuriating, however, because the situations we are the most incapable of fixing often have to do with the people that we love the most.

Imagine this scenario: Your friend is sitting across the table from you, spilling out his or her pain from the most recent issue that has come up. As your friend speaks, you note how each word is filled with insecurity, self-doubt, and negativity. Understanding what is going on, you proceed to speak words of positivity and truth. You say things like, "There is a reason that I am your friend," and, "If you could just see yourself the way I do..." Your friend politely says, "Thank you," and walks away with a smile on his or her face. Two weeks later, you have the same conversation with the same friend with all the same insecurity, self-doubt and negativity.

Frustrating, right? "We've already been over this! Stop believing that horseshit!" But our yelling won't help, and as long as we think we can actually save our friend from his or her pain and problems, we are destined to live in this frustration.

As my good (albeit "nerdy") friend once told me, "Some dragons we are not meant to slay." And as my beautiful and wise wife has said on this issue, "You can't love it out of them." My wife is right. My dorky, dragon-referencing friend is correct. It is certainly good to speak words of love and truth to our friends and family in need, but we will forever be incapable of saving or fixing them. That responsibility is with them and God.

Thus our motives must change. We must love for the sake of loving, not for the sake of fixing. We must share words of kindness and affirmation because they are true, not because they will help. And we must offer ideas and advice when it is asked for, not when it is something "they need to hear." Anything short of this will be tagged for malaria exposure and rejected no matter how much we wanted it to help. On this I am sO positive. (Yay! Blood jokes!)

Hey! Good joke there, Greg!

Wait a Second...

Rather than write this blog entry at some quaint little coffee place, I thought I would change it up. Often times, and maybe you're like me, I find myself desiring the feeling of a quasi-comfy fake leather chair in a heavily air conditioned environment with music containing far too much saxophone playing faintly in the background... and boy did I find it! Can you guess where I am? That's right! I'm in a waiting room.

Look at these folks... just miserable.

What is it about waiting rooms? They contain racks and racks of magazines, but not one article seems interesting or engaging. Music and sometimes television shows are playing, but not once have felt genuinely entertained. And the lighting. Holy crap! The lighting!!! In general, every person in that waiting room desires one thing... to GET OUT!

Sitting here with my laptop, as a radio station (which somehow believes voices are pointless for R&B tunes from the 90's when you have a saxophone) fills the silence, my mind goes back to the subject that we've been discussing at Wallace's Pub for the last few weeks... forgiveness. We argued over the horrible nature of olives and how bitterness (the absence of forgiveness) has the ability to taint everything. We then looked at how remembering, not forgetting, may be our path to forgiveness. Now comes the hard part.

As I'm sure you all know, there is a big difference between forgiving and FORGIVING. Now if we were actually talking face to face, you would have noticed that my eyes got wider and my speech got slower and more emphatic when I said, "FORGIVING," the second time, thus clueing you into my belief that many of us have a misunderstanding of forgiveness. (I just used all caps, bold font, and long explanation instead.)

"FORGIVING"

Real, hardcore, balls-to-the-walls forgiveness is the process of no longer allowing the inciting incident to negatively affect you and determine how you live. It is getting to that place where you can actually wish your offender well, rather than a plague of locusts. It is total freedom. (Feel free to add to this definition in the comments below.)

But this kind of forgiveness, my friendly pub-goers, takes time. So sink a little deeper into that faux-leather chair and develop a taste for that sexy sax, because you're going to have to wait. It takes time to allow God's love and truth to overwhelm the pain we feel right now. It takes time to believe that maybe our offender actually didn't know what he or she was doing... not completely. It takes time to understand that letting go is more victorious and takes more strength than revenge. And sooooooo... we wait.

Yes... we will get frustrated.

Yes... we will become impatient.

No... there isn't a quicker fix.

And no... they may not change.

But we will. Our hearts will soften. Our lives will be ours again. This is the hope and beauty of "FORGIVING"

If you don't believe me... just wait. 

p.s. You know what might make waiting rooms better...

... just a thought.

Remember the Time...

Remember the blog I wrote last week? Well, while many of you brought up some good points about olives, one of my good friends and fellow blog writers (www.olivemepost.com) asked a very interesting question, "Do you have any advice on how to forgive? What about when we are the black olive?"

You have probably heard the expression, "Forgive and Forget." It sounds good, right? It has a nice alliteration and seems simple enough. The problem with forgetting is that, aside from a major head trauma, we can't. We cannot forget. We may be distracted from the memory for a while, but we always carry it with us. So rather than forget, we often turn to repression or denial, which only takes us down an even worse path. So forget "forgetting" and lets focus on a different concept... remembering.

Throughout the scriptures, God consistently commanded his people to remember. He told the Israelites to remember their story and where they came from so that they would not become like the oppressors that oppressed them. 

Even Jesus tells his followers to eat their bread and drink their wine in remembrance of him so that daily we would remember the forgiving, loving, and redeeming nature of our God. It is in remembering that our story becomes larger, our lives transform and we stop repeating the same old mistakes.

Similarly, when we are hurt or offended, we must remember.

- We must remember who hurt us and why it hurt.

- We must remember the ways we have hurt others in the past.

- We must remember the times we have been forgiven.

- We must remember our whole story. (The good; the bad. The blessings; the hurts.)

- We must remember that everyone has a story, including the one who hurt us. (This doesn't let them off the hook, but it reminds us of their humanity.)

- We must remember who we were before the incident happened.

- We must remember who we have become as a result of this incident.

- We must remember that our bitterness has not once gained justice or a complete sense of satisfaction.

- Finally, for those of us who are Christians, we must remember how Jesus, as he hung on the cross, responded to the angry crowds by saying, "Father forgive them... they don't know what the are doing."

"... they don't know what they are doing." It is my guess that they and we never do... at least not fully. When I hurt someone with my words or betray another with my decisions, I am incapable of knowing how deep the knife cuts. Nor do I understand fully why I am saying or doing these things in the first place. So Jesus, in his kindness and understanding, forgives. Remembering helps us unlock our potential for kindness and understanding.

Remember, this is no quick fix. In fact, it probably makes things more complicated. But I believe "remembering" is the path to true forgiveness, where we may be capable of wishing our offenders well and at last be rid of the vile olives of bitterness.