it’s amazing to me how different i am on my own and in my parent’s house. when i live under their roof, i tend to be a bit more of a slob, not keep after my clothes, leave my desk a mess and never really come home. when i live on my own i do much the opposite: i clean up, i do the dishes, i keep my desk clear, i put my clothes in the hamper and i enjoy the silence of home. i keep telling myself it has something to do with some kind of ownership; knowing that i am the only one that will do the work drives me to do it. but that’s not a good excuse.

right now the rents are gone. it’s just me and teddy at home and while he doesn’t like to clean up very much, i have the sudden urge to take out the trash and run the dishwasher. strange, i know. the work has to get done somehow and if theo isn’t going to bunker down and do it, i guess it’s on me. this isn’t any diss to him (i know you’re the only one who actually reads my blog), it’s just an observation of my strange life and my strange double standards.

sometimes i really want a nine-to-five; just a simple job to go to, one i enjoy, and one that makes a decent amount of money. i don’t need a lot, i just need food, shelter, and cable. ha. i kind of want to be one of those old people who have “their shows” that they watch. i’d love to come home on a thursday night and make myself a sandwich and watch Bones or House or something.

it’s not extravagant, it’s not up-beat or anything to gawk at. it’s just…simple. it makes sense. and i searching for security amidst the risks i’m taking? i wouldn’t trade my music for anything. honestly. but a thursday night alone is eerily tempting.

yup. just bawled.

i will admit i was a little embarrassed because i was sitting right next to bryan humphreys and i didn’t wanna cry in front of him. but i still did.

it was really very strange. the whole Christmas eve service i was sitting there and singing out, trying to let everyone around me know that i was better at singing carols than they were. conceited? yes. am i all the time? no. but the guy on stage was very good and rather than just accept that he was good, i had to prove to myself that i was good too. dumb, right? anyone in their right mind wouldn’t do such a thing. but i’d like to say i’m my right mind. although i’m not sure my right mind is THE right mind.

when the end of the service came, everyone started singing silent night accompanied by a light piano. very intimate, soothing; perfect for the candle-lit portion of the service. i opened my mouth to sing (once again just a bit louder than everyone else) but nothing came out. i just started bawling. i don’t know what happened, really. i just kept moving my mouth and pushing air but all that came out were tears.

i’m not trying to write about how sovereign this holiday is (though it truly is) or to call you all to silence. i was just broken by the sound of everyone else’s voices. i don’t know what this means yet (maybe just a simple, “shut up, joey”), but i’m glad it happened. i got to focus on the words of that old carol and i realized they do more than rhyme.

recently i’ve been focusing on the “big picture”, thinking i had missed it while i was looking at the small things. everyone told me that. regularly. so i figure they know what’s up and i don’t. i should focus on the “big-ness” of the Kingdom, the large and extravagant things that people are talking about, that there are stories about. i wanted to be in one of these stories. i wanted to live a “big” life and show God in “big” ways. but am i still missing something?

what if God’s “big-ness” is defined by our “small-ness”?

i can’t help but think of the final scene of men in black (the original, of course) in which the camera begins to zoom out at a ridiculous rate, showing stars and planets and finally the edges of our galaxy. then it shows our milky way as a marble and some creature is playing with it. ha! made me laugh at first, but then made me think about how small we are. it makes me wonder how big God is and how far reaching his Kingdom is. but it also makes me wonder about our small things. can the big-ness of God be described in something as small as a game of marbles? no. but can his huge love be shown in that game of marbles? yes.

i think i’ve begun to ramble.

what i’m trying to say is that i have been looking at televangelists and big revivals and huge sightings of God’s power and skipping the love i’m supposed to show to God and people every day. it’s like i’ve been looking to CEOs of major companies but skipped the starving children. where did i go wrong?! why did i think it was okay to stop caring so much? now i’m not saying those big things aren’t great. they are wonderful acts of God and he deserves the glory for them. but i’m trying to say that we are called to show great love in the small things we do as well.

i’m having trouble articulating this feeling, this urge coming up from my stomach and spitting out of my mouth. i’m not eloquent enough to make it a thought-provoking speech that brings tears to the eyes of many and changes people’s hearts. but i’m just so scared that i’ve been living life with my eyes half open, missing the rest of the story. where has my life gone?! what has become of all of my fruit?! did i have any to start with? have i been caring enough? have i been sharing, feeding, loving, providing, praying enough?

i don’t want to be a big deal. i don’t need fame and riches. i don’t need to be a well known preacher or an exalted minister. i just need to love God and love others.

the one thing that scares me the most is that i won’t live up to the name i’ve been given; to the life i’ve been given. and while i know i can never do enough to please God, i’m terrified that i’m not even trying.

so it seems many people have enjoyed the song i recently put up on facebook. that, or they just enjoyed making fun of my big hair at the end of a long day. either way, a good number of people have commented on it. so that’s cool.

but for those of you who don’t know, i just wanted to let you in a little secret: this song wasn’t written for it’s musicality, for masterful lyrics or a catchy melody. it was written to express a feeling, a thought. it’s been a long few weeks and i’ve been feeling like a failure more and more (some of that has to do with the limited amount of sleep i’ve been getting). but one recent night, while i was feeling sorry for myself, i was attacked by the notion that God still loves me regardless. and so that’s what i wrote that song about.

it’s about falling, about failing, about hurting worse than ever, about constantly letting yourself and others down. it’s about hurting friends, breaking promises and telling lies. it’s about the deepest darkest parts of me. but it’s also about the overwhelming dedication and selflessness of Jesus, with each refrain acting as a love song from Him to me.

simply put, this song is about grace. so be warned, be convicted, but be encouraged and inspired, because you are loved.

i just posted on a couple of these discussions from this “Christian” facebook group. i was freaking out reading everything that had been written. the thing that got me the most was when people would be asked a question, not know the answer, but still spew out some nonsense and make Christians everywhere look like tools. one such discussion had many atheists arguing with Christians who just kept spewing. it was rough.

let’s just set the record straight: if you don’t know, say it. tell them you’ll look it up and get back to them, be it in real life or on the internet. don’t try and answer incorrectly, that’s just worse. be real, be honest.

i’m not posting this to say that i know all the answers. (which in a sense makes this post a HUGE oxymoron, but we’ll just forget about that). in fact, i’m quite the opposite. but that’s the point: i’ll be the first to tell you i suck and i’m wrong. often, since i suck and i’m wrong, i need people to tell me that as well. but that’s how it goes. let’s embrace hopeless dependence on love and the bodies/minds God gave us and use them! God gave Christians brains, too. let’s show people we have them.

am i less of a man for listening to the band Paramore? i think not. i would actually go so far as to say that i am more of a man for listening to Paramore.

4 out of 5 doctors agree.

strange. school starts up again and i’m the least bit overjoyed. actually, not strange. i’ve got to be honest: i’m so over it. class and busy work have been the bane of my very existence since i was old enough to function. thank you, gov’t. i’d love to say that the voluntary, after high school thing is better, but i’d be lying. school will always be school and i will never be a fan.

the one thing that keeps me excited about a new year is what i’ll learn. and no, i don’t mean in class. i mean the other 8-10 hours a day that i’m awake and not taking notes. i’d pay twenty-five grand just to hang out with all of these people. nothing could compare to how i’ve grown and what i’ve learned thanks to the environment i’ve been placed in. granted, it hasn’t been smooth or easy, but it’s been happening and i’m thankful for that every day. that’s what keeps me going.

when i graduate, i’m not going to wave around two bachelors degrees and tell people what a wonderful scholar i am. i’ll just look at pictures of all of you and thank God.

i had a strange epiphany today, triggered by a strange feeling. i wouldn’t call it an “out of body experience” because i was quite conscious of what i was doing, it was more of an “out of mind” experience in a way (which i’m sure some of you would say is much better for me). for about 15 minutes, while i was driving home, i didn’t just see the same trees and hills and cars that i saw everyday, i saw huge pieces of earth stretched out before me, humbly allowing me to drive across them. the clouds seemed inches from space and i found myself feeling small. it shook my world because i felt the world was not mine, nor was it any of ours. we’re just existing on it and told to take care of it, though we’re not doing a good job at either of those things.

it hit me that i am just a speck on the face of the earth and a blink in the course of time. and yet, there are those that think the world of me. right when i was attacked by these thoughts, i got a text from my sister. the family was waiting for me to be home to cook dinner. waiting for me, a speck. it was strange. my whole life i just assumed my parents would be home to provide for me. it was just the way it was. and yet i watch law and order (my favorite show) and see people (made up people, realistically, but things like that happen to real people everyday) be abused and killed and i don’t think twice about it. what if one of them was my mother? my father? would it still be so insignificant?

we are small and fragile and fleeting, but we still are. if only everyday i didn’t think so much about what’s going on in my head and stopped to ask who i can help. in the whole scheme of things, i’m really not that big or that important, and by the same token, neither is my father. but if he wasn’t here, who would make me hot dogs?

either i have too much stuff or… well, i guess i just have too much stuff. there is no way to possibly fit all that i have into a room that i’m sharing. thus, i left some of what i own at home when i moved to my apartment. but now that i’m moving back, i can’t seem to find room for what once had room. and in trying to make room, i’m upsetting a number of people, namely theodore. i know i have to respect his needs and his preferences, but am i due the same respect? i’d go into detail, but you’d have to grasp a deep understanding of the size and layout of my room. so let’s just say that they way josh wants things leaves me with enough room for a bed and… nothing. i don’t need a desk or whatever, i don’t need a wall devoted to my guitars and the stacking of my amps, but i’d like to keep them somewhere. it looks like i’m just gunna have to move into the garage. and for those of you who know the terror of pittsburgh winters and those of you who understand the fragility of musical instruments, you know that means trouble.

too many buccis, not enough house.

or maybe it’s just too much of my ego. i just want somewhere to put my stuff…

man i’ve been busy. i’ve been so busy that i’ve gotten to the point, as i often do, that when things slow down i feel like i’m being useless. maybe not useless, but i get really bored. and it’s not that things aren’t happening; it’s not like i don’t have work to do. i just tend to prioritize things incorrectly, choosing those things of least importance but most excitement over those things that necessarily need to be done. it’s a problem i have, one that has gotten me into trouble before. i don’t need any more work to do, i don’t need more appointments. i just need to thank God for downtime and use it for those things that really need to be done. that’s gunna take a while, i can promise you that.