XXXI: Three Year Honeymoon

I finally found the batteries. They were stored somewhere in one of the kitchen drawers.

This is what happens when you move from one place to another in your life.

The past three weeks have been mind-blowing. Time has sped up, seasons have changed, rain has fallen, sun has shined, and we have relocated from our apartment into a house.

True. Story.

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XXXI: Broken Judgemental Hearts

Tonight, with the internet finally running, I was planning on giving some details into the moving process that Darco and I just went through over the past week. However, something took place this evening that gripped my heart to the point that even the joys of moving cannot trump such an event.

I am an awkward individual. How I walk, talk, and even write, so please bare with me if something just seems…well…awkward.

This is new territory for me.

Darco and I were visiting with a family member of whom we love dearly. It’d be months since we had seen them, and Darco took some time to ensure that they saw our new living arrangement. When I got home from work (and later running), we chatted, ate, and just had a fun time sharing stories of the oddities that we conclude are indeed our lives.

Towards the end of the evening, they began to prepare to leave. It was about that time that Darco looked at them, and simply asked, “Well, aren’t you going to tell him?” I, stuffing myself with food, was curious as to what the conversation was about. I noted that they were holding a artistic illustration of a name that I assumed was associated with them.

They started to giggle.
They started to avoid.
They stated, “He’ll make fun of me”.
They said, “He won’t like it”.

It was about that time, thank you education world, that I started putting the pieces together. Our loved one is holding onto a drawing of someone’s specific name. They’re laughing, making comments such as, “But, we’re not yet, so I can’t say it…”

That’s when something came out along the lines of, “She’s not my girlfriend…officially…yet.”

In one unique way, or another…a child (younger than me) who I love dearly, frankly (to put into awkward, politically correct terminology) came out of the closet tonight.

My heart shattered.

Not because of the desire of the wanted love, relationship, etc…
Not because I was so disappointed in their “LIFE CHOICES”…

Because they were afraid of my reaction.
Because, somewhere, they were afraid of judgement.
Because I go to church. Because I’m the Christian. Because somewhere, somehow there’s this disillusion that I’m inherently going to condemn anyone who is gay, anyone who is a Democrat, anyone who votes wrong, anyone…well…period.

I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m spiteful.

That reaction, that reaction is exactly why I struggled in college. I didn’t want to be grouped, I didn’t want to be identified as “judgemental”. I look at Christ and the only judgement I see from Him tends to be towards religious hypocrites. If I’m to be Christ-like then how on earth could I justify that kind of condemnation towards a soul that I love dearly?

It makes no sense.

It’s an everyday reality.

This is what makes my blood boil. When Christian’s cause more damage for God’s kingdom compared to the glory that we’re to bring God. It makes me angry, a righteous zeal towards the religious elite. These are those moments when I’m happy that I’m divorced, that I’m a failure, that I’ve caused so much pain for my God. Because I’m able to look at the rest of the world and realize there isn’t a inch of my body that could justifiably be placed higher than any other human.

My life is forced humility. How could I dare bring myself to judge? What has that young child witnessed that’d cause them to ‘joke’ about being looked at differently because of a choice they’ve made? Where does it say Jesus would do that?!?! Where would it say my loving, caring Father would treat His own in that nature!?!?

Show me in the red text.
Show me the verse.
Show me where my God gave up.
Show me when my Savior told me to condemn those who are looking for hope.

Until I see that…
Until I hear His voice saying that…

I will love those closest to me. I will care for those who fear the rejection. I will house the lost.

I. Was. No. Different.



Beautiful life.

Currently: Windows are open at the house, cool breeze blowing, I’m eating some fruit while listening to some calming chill music. Somehow, this is real life.

Earlier: Perk of working in the city of the 2015 World Series Champions…school was canceled for tomorrow so that everyone can enjoy the parade. Also means that I can take one final load from the apartment, and be done with it.

This is a numbing, beautiful life.


XXXI: Welcome Home

I can see the stars!!!

Around 8:30 PM last night I wound up yelling this exclamation to Darco in the driveway.


Real. Driveway.

Over the three day weekend we’ve been doing nothing but moving our possessions from our apartment to our house. Praise God for friends and family. So many people have helped us with cleaning, moving, and even cooking for us. It’s truly a memorable experience that’ll forever last in my heart.

…but about those stars…

Like any other soul, I too have my silent prayers. One of them was to see the stars again. Growing up, the stars were in my backyard. Moving to college, then moving to the city, I lost the stars. City lights, parking lot nights, I lost track of my childhood home.

Our home is now in the rural escape around the city. The stars come out each night, shining past the occasional flight preparing for landing. My prayer is answered. I find myself clamoring to the sky, my wife lost as to why this was such a big deal. Answered personal prayers are a big deal.



I can see the stars.
Welcome home.



I’m “adulting”…

Last weekend, between sighting in rifles for deer season, Darco, MC, Jim, and myself started to embark on an adventure I never thought would happen.

We began the moving process.


It’s gorgeous. The basement has the drywall completed, along with the painting. Tiling is being installed right now.

Stepping outside with MC, I noticed a noise I never imagined hearing in isolation again…

As it turns out, after final calculations, there are a grand total of 62 miles…62…miles…of running trails around the lake that our house sits on.

Our. House.


I don’t know if Darco has had this sensation, but each time I’m at the house I have to remind myself that I’m not visiting. This isn’t a friends house. It’s a strange, almost sobering, sensation of accepting this gift. Believe me, any reader here knows this, this is a gift.

We’ll be completely moved in over the weekend.

God is good. In ways I’ll never understand, but each day I lock the front door, it’ll be s gentle reminder of what God does.


XXXI: Old Friend

Hello old friend.

Life slows down for no one; this is the concept that I’ve learned to embrace over the past week, month, and year. Interestingly enough, this time a year ago I was asked by an administrator if I’d stay, as a sub, for a teacher-in-service day at the school that I had been a substitute teacher in for a few weeks. Continue reading