Wherein Blogging Resembles Life

Long ago, I resolved that a certain two-word announcement would never be written on any blog of mine [think: first person singular pronoun contracted with a linking verb + indication of having returned from an absence].

Of course, the most obvious key to keeping said resolution was simply to post regularly. But having failed in this respect, I shall still refuse to tap out those two words which but admit to the reading world search engines that the blog is dying: yes, the blogger still remembers his password; no, he has nothing meaningful to say.

End melodrama. Begin introspection.

I won't pretend that blogging is one of the more important disciplines of life (though I do find it a helpful one). Nonetheless, thinking about the relatively unimportant "neglect of blog" problem led to parallel thoughts about greater issues of life.

Neglect is rarely born out of total forgetfulness. If anything, total forgetfulness is just one of the products of neglect.

I never totally forgot about blogging. Every week or so I would think of sitting down to write, my thoughts morphing from "It's been a little while... maybe today" to "It's been a while... maybe tomorrow" to "It's been a long while... one of these weeks." Yet as more time passed since I last posted, forgetfulness increased. As the typing of thoughts moved further from my actions, it also moved further from my mind.

Moreover, one might think that motivation to write would increase with time. But no–not writing is easiest once one has begun the habit of not writing. And the more I grow in this new habit of not writing, the more it seems that I need a bigger, better, more impressive reason to actually decide again to write.

Writing: I just never got around to it. And so thoughts of getting around to it became more infrequent. And then, when thoughts did come around, they were crushed by the mounting criteria for a worthwhile return post.

What else in my life do I treat like a blog?

The desk I have had intended to organize? (Is it really worth it if I might not be able to keep it up permanently?)

The friend I meant to stay in contact with and have been meaning to call since... how long? (But after such a long silence, don't I need a particular reason to suddenly make a phone call?)

The plan for regular Scripture memorization that I've wanted to set? (But it's so much easier to be consistent with the current no-plan while I continue my search for the perfect plan.)

March 6

This weekend, Saturday has been my day of rest. (Going to church on Saturday night still feels strange.) But Sunday is already slipping away. After talking with the guys over an extended breakfast time and spending time in the Word, cooking, laundry, and chores have brought me to mid-afternoon.

For the fifteenth time this weekend, I go over the status of upcoming deadlines...

Quiz to take first thing Monday morning: material not yet reviewed. 

Presentation to give on Tuesday: slides not yet planned. 

Homework to submit on Wednesday: solutions not yet begun.

Homework to turn in Monday afternoon: complete (but care to guess why nothing else has been started?)

Too little time. Better get to school and at least spend a few hours reviewing for that quiz. Then: house meeting in the evening. Too little time. Focus. Confess Anxiety. Trust God. Focus...

But something else has been on my mind this weekend. Going to church on Saturday evening, I remembered fifty-two weeks earlier... 

At the end of a weekend that included catching my first flight, missing my first connection, experiencing my first big research institution recruiting pitch, and coming to the conclusion that the U of M could be a good fit, I was back at my hotel room getting ready to go looking for a potential new home church for the first time. Only, I wasn't looking for where to visit. I knew where that would be. I would just be looking to find the building.

I grabbed my Google Maps printout of downtown Minneapolis, slipped my shoes on and charged through the hotel lobby. With twenty minutes until the start of the service that was over two miles away, I was already running late. Literally. Too cheap for a taxi, I had decided to go on foot.

Forty minutes later, after concluding that the most direct routes for vehicles were not necessarily the most direct routes for pedestrians (not without footpaths, anyway), detouring up muddy hillsides in dress shoes, straining my eyes to find street signs to try to pinpoint my location, and hoping I hadn't been misinformed about the relative safety of wandering downtown Minneapolis near dusk, I was becoming more aware of (and less amused by) how unlikely of a location this neighborhood seemed for a church. 

Online directions are usually helpful. But when wrong, they are spectacularly wrong. I wondered if I'd get around the next corner and find a parking lot or an old warehouse. A time check reminded me that I was already twenty minutes late. But wait, a church! Actually here, with people inside! I hurried up to the door: Please Use Main Entrance. 

How anti-climactic. But the main entrance was just around the corner. I slipped in and finally found some seating up in the balcony...

The evening, to my thinking, had already provided me with a good story. But an hour later, at the conclusion of the service, I met the guy in the pew in which I "happened to" sit. I might be slow with to recognize such things, yet I can only use the words "happened to" so many times before I'm forced to recognize the providence of God. 

Because I "happened to" decide against a taxi, I "happened to" be late and "happened to" head up to the balcony for a seat, which I "happened to" find next to a guy who "happened to" not be in too much of a hurry afterwards, who "happened to" be able to give the perspective of someone who was relatively new to the church, who "happened to" be willing to offer me a ride back to the hotel (confession: I was really hoping for that one), who "happened to" offer me his phone number in case I wanted to contact someone in the cities, which "happened to" make him my contact for the house that I "happened to" end up living in, with guys who "happened to" to be willing to accept a stranger from Ohio as a roommate to fill what "happened to" be their last open slot.

March 6, 2010. At the end of the evening, I was back in my hotel room, asking God to open doors.

March 6, 2011. At the end of the evening, I open the door of my office and grab my coat. Time to call it a night.

It had been a full day, just not over yet: 8pm. I didn't realize that God already was opening doors, and for more than just funding...

It's been a full day, just not over yet: 8pm. Back home, I open the door and head up the stairs. 

Tyler picked me up from school on his way back from the Sunday night service. We talk as we head up the stairs. Cody jumps out. Nothing unexpected: he's ready for the game of steal-a-word before the scheduled house meeting.

Steve's upstairs as well, strumming on his guitar. Suddenly he starts a more familiar tune and other guys from downstairs and from small group appear. It turns out that since my family couldn't celebrate my birthday with me, they sent my roommates money for pizza and ice cream.

Sometimes, a year changes a lot. Celebrating my birthday with me are all guys whom I hadn't even met a year ago.

Sometimes, a year doesn't change enough. My thoughts are so often consumed by today's work and tomorrow's deadline.

Sometimes, I don't realize that I am stressed out by the very thing that was once a hoped-for answer to prayer, as though I expect praying to result in gifts without responsibilities.

Sometimes, it takes a wistful look at last year's questions to bring a smile in the midst of today's. I have so much to be grateful for.

2010: The Year That Was

A few reflections on this past year.


Favorite Class: 
Energy Conversion

Longest time spent studying for a single test: 

Not sure... I spent a lot of hours studying for my Conduction exams. I'll say at least six.

Number of nightmares about final exams: 
Two or three I think. But what stand out most vividly are the dreams I had of being back in the lab, still working on my final undergraduate project. I spent 30 hours over three days working to finish it up, finally turning it in at 11pm on Saturday night. Sure, I had been offered an extension until Monday, but there was no way I was going to walk for graduation on Sunday afternoon with more work yet to be done.

One thing I won't miss: 
Taking my old Grand Am to the repair shop.

One thing I will miss: 
Seeing my family every day.


Miles on my car: 

6000 (since getting my Outback in July), of which 4400 were from...

Best memories from an event:
Road trip out west with Chad and Matt. It's a stretch to call a 10-day trip an event. If I pick a single "event" from all of this, I'd say that nothing could quite top the feeling of arriving at our first destination after 19 hours of driving. Getting out of the car to walk up on some rocks and look out over miles and miles of the badlands: amazing. 

Best memories from life in general:
Learning how to cook, often getting instructions from the helpline (mom) 800 miles away.

Book that impacted me the most (after the Bible):
Hard to choose between A Praying Life, by Paul Miller, and Expository Thoughts on the Gospels by J.C. Ryle.

Song that impacted me the most:
In past years I always found an obvious choice. Nothing jumps out at me... or even crawls out after some thinking.

Doctrine that impacted me the most:
The danger and subtlety of unbelief. (Not sure that it is usually called "The Doctrine of Unbelief," but oh well.) To sum up, I will tie this back to a quote from the above-mentioned J.C. Ryle book, "There are three great enemies against which God's children should daily pray—pride, worldliness, and unbelief. Of these, none is greater than unbelief."

A whole year later...
I'm driving a different car, going to a different school, living in a different state... and serving the same God.


Share a few reflections of your own in the comments section.


Past Years
2006
2007
2008
2009

Running

Glance at the lab computer clock: 7:11. Save files. Exit programs. Log off. The 2 bus arrives at 7:15. The homework problem will wait for tomorrow.

Swinging my backpack over my shoulder and fumbling for my keys, I dash toward my office down the hall. Hat on, coat on, coat zipper stuck.

Zipper fixed. Gloves on, backpack on, cell phone out: 7:13.

Spiraling down the staircase, barreling out the door. More stairs.

Hurry, don't run, there's ice, quick, watch for ice, run, should walk, must jog.

Washington Avenue straight ahead. Cars and buses rolling past. Buses! Sprint.

A long one—too long. Not to worry. Another one—a shorter one. The 2? Hurry. Maybe not. But run. Passengers boarding and unboarding: precious seconds bought to close the gap.

Closer now. Read the number: 2. Pulling away? Not yet. But no line. All are aboard. 7:15.

My legs run up along side. The 2's wheel's roll forward. Wave an arm. The 2 lurches into traffic. Catch it! Beat it to the next stop! No. Never. The 2 is across the bridge. My legs stop.

Why?

I have twenty minutes to catch my breath. Twenty minutes I could have spent in the computer lab—the warm computer lab—productively. Twenty minutes now to be spent thinking about just missing the bus, thinking about just missing the solution on the morning quiz, thinking about just missing the time I needed to get homework done, thinking... thinking...

Why?

Why do I procrastinate and perfectionate? Why do I look for hope in personal achievement and job satisfaction? Why are my desires for good things in life too strong? Why are my desires not strong enough? Why do I feel like I've felt all this before?

I'm tired. Why does it always take frustration or disappointment or just plain weariness to bring me to this place?

Lord God...

Why don't I so strongly just want You Yourself when I'm getting everything else too? Can I not be desperate for you without feeling so weary?

I'm not running away. Just running. Always running. And sometimes it takes a missed bus, bringing twenty minutes of waiting, to turn me to twenty minutes of heart-earnest prayer.

Lord God...

Intentions

Why didn't you read last week's post? Ah, because I never posted it. But I intended to.

Why didn’t I post it? Ah, because I never edited it. But I intended to.

Why didn’t I edit it? Ah, because I never finished the draft. But I intended to.

Why didn’t I finish the draft? Ah, because I never started it. But I intended to.

If only the blog post were nothing more than a case of writer’s block.

I didn’t work on homework. But I intended to.

I didn’t respond to your call or email. But I intended to.

I didn’t get to sleep earlier. But I intended to.

I didn’t set time to pray today. But I intended to.

Follow through. Sometimes we simply, legitimately are unable to. Sometimes we simply, regrettably forget to. Sometimes we simply, logically decide not to.

But usually, I find that my failure to follow through cannot be blamed on inability or forgetfulness or rejection. Instead, I choose to follow through later. I’m able, I remember, I still intend to… I just didn’t get to it yet.

My priorities aren’t revealed in my intentions so much as in my actions. I'm sure I have better priorities. At least, I intended to.