Monday, November 22, 2021

That's Why They Call It Getting Saved (Thanksgiving 2021)

 


A lot of times when I sit down to write a reflective blog, I have to be in just the right headspace to be inspired.

The older I get, lol, the more difficult this becomes!  The "right headspace", it turns out, is prime real estate and it's not often one finds themselves occupying a suitable abode on that particular block!

Despite my original hope that I would become more capable of deep and reflective thought as I age, I find the opposite is true.  

Instead, the only things I have become more capable of  as I age are A.)overeating, B.)procrastinating, C.) watching Catfish marathons in the overnight hours on MTV and D.) forgetting song lyrics to radio hits I had previously had memorized for a decade or more.  

If the writers and thinkers I admire most suffered these same setbacks, lol, they certainly never indicated that they fought any of these particular battles in any of their works.

Robert Frost, for example, probably never opted to sit up in his living room overnight in his underwear with his German Shepherd and split a box of Cheezits while surfing Disney+, did he?  

And I'm certain he wouldn't opt for a third viewing of "Raya and The Last Dragon" over creating some new prose!  

Two roads probably never diverged in THAT yellow wood, did they Bob?


With Thanksgiving now upon us, I find I am without excuse.

It seems completely unthinkable that I could let the occasion pass without remark.  

I am, after all, a person who has been the recipient of immense blessings - both known to me and unknown to me!  

In a nation where people are losing their jobs, I remain (for now) gainfully employed.

In a country where the minimum wage keeps people living paycheck to paycheck and barely able to take care of their monthly bills, I remain capable of doing so!  I even get to partake in the joy of helping others to live less in a state of lack after my own electricity, groceries, etc are taken care of!  

*Sidebar: Being married to a hunky paramedic who also brings home a paycheck and often times floats me some dough to fill my car's tank up with gas is a great aid  to me in my ongoing quest to bless others with the fruits of my labor.*

Without Zach around to make sure I have a safety net, it'd be a lot more difficult to part ways with the funds in my bank account when God calls me to help out a friend or stranger in need!


Why, I even find myself blessed and provided for to the extent that Zach and I can afford to travel and visit places outside our everyday, normal surroundings on a regular basis.

I feel blessed beyond measure every time God permits me to travel to a place I've never been before... or to revisit a beloved destination that I've been to several times! ...to take it in, breathe deeply and bask in the knowledge that Jesus is Jesus everywhere.  😊

In the last few years, I've been able to confirm that Christ is accessible on a cruise ship to Mexico, on a beach outside of Los Angeles, in the Puget Sound with a family of orcas teaching their young to hunt seals in the dense mist and, most recently? In the shadow of Cinderella Castle as you watch fireworks explode in the sky with your niece and nephews at Magic Kingdom!   

I look back on the sum of my experiences and on how undeserving I am to have them, let alone SHARE them with a partner!

So, what then is my freaking problem?

Shouldn't someone as blessed as me be more than capable of finding something relevant to say on the occasion of Thanksgiving???  

I mean even as young as two and four years old, my nephews were able to wax philosophical about THEIR Thanksgiving blessings!  (See 01:38:00 seconds in where Baby Benjamin reveals his item that he's most thankful for is... um... "seatbelts".  Lol!)


To grease the wheels in my forty year old brain (and get the darned thing to do something more productive than try to come up with answers to the riddles that hint at the true identities of contestants on The Masked Singer), I have spent significant time the last few days trying to ask myself to identify a beloved Bible character or two who might have some insights into what it means to be thankful.

And in so doing, I have determined that David is my go to guy for an example of thankfulness in the Old Testament...



...Peter (a.k.a "Simon") is my go to for an example of thankfulness in the New Testament... 

...and David Foster and Catherine McPhee are, without question, the true identity of Banana Split on Masked Singer... 😊


(Sidebar: Video representation of Simon to be added later in the blog in lieu of GIF representation)

Since we're talking about King David... and since I already introduced one tale of Cute Nephew Antics into this entry... I have to tell a quick story about my oldest nephew, Caleb.

He's been in either his Grandma's church Sunday School class or else in Children Church sessions that she's led and taught since he was SUPER little.

Around the time that he was four or five years old, he attended one of Grandma's classes where King David was the main character in the story being examined for the day.  

Grandma had a felt board that she put cloth characters on as she told her Bible stories and she explained that while David grew up to be an Israelite King, he started out as an everyday, young shepherd boy.


Caleb, I'm told, hung onto every word as Grandma explained that when he was a kid David had once summoned the courage and confidence to slay a giant warrior!  Caleb & his classmates were told that it was due to having had to protect his father's sheep as part of his regular work on the farm at home that he'd had the courage to engage with Goliath!

The shepherd boy with the slingshot stepped out in faith to defeat a giant in part because he knew that God had had his back a million times before when he had gone up against bears and lions that were looking to make a meal out of his father's livestock.

My nephew was apparently just enthralled by this story.

As soon as he and I interacted following his discovery of this information, Caleb launched into his own retelling of the epic tale!

"Uncle Nick, did you know that in the Bible there was a little boy who killed a giant?"

I attempted to play dumb.

"No way!"  I remember saying, "How did a little boy know that he could shoot a slingshot well enough to kill a giant?!?"

Caleb looked me dead in the eye and said, "Cuz! He had killed other stuff with his slingshot and that was his practice! He watched his dad's lambs! It was his job!  And sometimes to keep them safe he'd have to shoot at animals that were trying to eat them!"

"What kind of animals???" I said, feigning ignorance.

And here's where Caleb got away from the official narrative a bit...

In an attempt to capture my imagination to the same extent that the story had captured his, he says "...like bears and lions and sharks!"

Lololololol...

I have attempted to convince my mom at least 1000 times since that discussion that she needs to create a felt shark to put up on the cloth board in order to properly show the range of biodiversity that found its way onto young David's Kill List... but she still hasn't done it.  Lol!

While it may be an exaggeration to say that God helped David kill sharks as a boy, it's definitely not an exaggeration to say that he helped him to avoid those that smelled the scent of his blood in the water once he assumed the role of King of Israel.

As a boy, David had to avoid lions, bears and giants.  Those are the stories we know about him that are most familiar.

But as an adult king?  He had war lords, corrupt political adversaries and his own lust to do battle with!

You can't sling rocks at your Big Boy problems.

Our most vicious adversaries don't just just fall down dead with one pebble launched to the forehead.

David wrote a whole collection of poems to keep his heart and mind centered on God as he battled both his literal enemies *and* the psychological opponents he found himself up against in his reign as King.  

Whereas I find myself saying thank you to God for trips to Florida with my family and a steady job, David's gratitude was rooted in escaping assassination attempts and in experiencing forgiveness for having seduced another man's wife... and wanting to keep her for himself to the extent that he arranged for her husband to be killed in war!

Pretty obviously, King David had a better grasp on what it means to be thankful than what Nick The Sleep Tech does.  

In one of his poems (also known as "Psalms") that I read this week, David illustrates that being thankful isn't just about verbalizing gratitude.

According to David, Thanksgiving is about two things that maybe we don't really think of it being about.

Those two things?

Prayer & Sacrifice.


In Psalm 116 he talks about his love for God, his Provider.

He recounts how God has shown him mercy when he didn't deserve it, delivered him from literal death and blessed him even in the aftermath of terrible decision making. 

He's done that for me, too.  And I'd about bet He's done it for you. 😉

So if there's anyone we should take our cues from this Thanksgiving, David is probably a prime candidate.  

Look at how he opens this particular prayer from Psalm 116...

1-6I love God because he listened to me,
listened as I begged for mercy.
He listened so intently
as I laid out my case before him.
Death stared me in the face,
hell was hard on my heels.
Up against it, I didn’t know which way to turn;
then I called out to God for help:
“Please, God!” I cried out.
“Save my life!”
God is gracious—it is he who makes things right,
our most compassionate God.
God takes the side of the helpless;
when I was at the end of my rope, he saved me.
7-8I said to myself, “Relax and rest.
God has showered you with blessings.
Soul, you’ve been rescued from death;
Eye, you’ve been rescued from tears;
And you, Foot, were kept from stumbling.”

...Legitimately, I could go through that opening line by line and do an entire blog entry for each 
phrase found there.  No joke.  In fact, maybe that will be a New Year's resolution for something to
work towards accomplishing in 2022!

While I ponder that, let's move on to the part of the Psalm that struck me as most relevant to the
holiday theme we're attempting to stay true to in this entry - THANKGIVING.  😊


12-19What can I give back to God
for the blessings he’s poured out on me?
...I’m ready to offer the thanksgiving sacrifice
and pray in the name of God.


Picture it. 
This Thursday... Thanksgiving.  
You and your family are seated around the dining room table at Grandma's house or Aunt Linda's 2 bedroom apartment or whatever and someone brings that delicious looking bird or ham or turducken or tofurkey out on a platter and sits it down in the middle of the table.


*Sidebar:  My apologies to you in every regard if you're one of the unfortunate people in this world who is at Aunt Linda's eating a tofurkey - 😟*




But back to the matter at hand!  


Once the family is assembled around the meat and the potatoes and the dinner rolls and the pumpkin pie, what it is that typically happens before everyone loads up their plates and starts stuffing their faces?


If your family is anything like mine, there's usually a prayer that gets said.


If you're the person that has the honor of leading that prayer at your family's Thanksgiving table, I want to challenge you to prepare your heart in advance for that exercise this year.  


Access your inner David and say to yourself first, "What can I give back to God for the blessings He's poured out on me?"  and then make up your mind definitively to sacrifice your pride and actually GIVE YOUR FAMILY THE CHANCE to EACH pray a heartfelt prayer of Thanksgiving.  




Let's be real... 

It doesn't take much sacrifice of pride to pray the prayers that most of us end up praying on Thanksgiving, does it?


Whoever the person elected to pray that prayer winds up being?


They usually stand up, clear their throat, invite everyone to fold their hands and bow their heads and then say something pious and rehearsed before everyone echoes their "amens" and transitions from their 90 second stance of solemn prayer to a gluttonous horde of Tasmanian devils with cranberry sauce all over the corners of their mouths.




If that's what you see happen at YOUR Thanksgiving table year after year after year?  


Maybe this year you can be one of the ones who challenges your family to take a minute and change up the routine.  


Maybe this year, invite everyone gathered around the table waiting to have their fill of turkey and dressing to ask themselves what David asked - "...What can I give back to God
for the blessings he’s poured out on me? "


And then instead of identifying and electing the person most capable of coming up with some bullshit Thanksgiving themed prayer to pray before everyone digs in, maybe grab Grandma's egg timer from the kitchen.  😊


Set that bad boy for a minute and a half.


Tell everyone at that table that before your family eats, you're all going to sacrifice tradition in order to do what David said that HE did when he came up with the formula he practiced in the Psalms for expressing true Thanksgiving.


Pray individually in the name of God.


Have everyone bow their head, join hands (or just collectively fold hands if your group is trying to keep Dr. Anthony Fauci happy with how they practice family togetherness) and say individual, silent prayers of Thanksgiving for having made it through the last 18 months of pandemic living.  


Because surviving what we've all survived over the last year and a half?


Maybe I'm crazy but I think that that warrants approaching God this Thanksgiving not with your Uncle or Grandpa's best stab at something that would be etched inside of a Hallmark card... but with real and unfiltered individual expressions of Thanksgiving for all that He's seen us through.


The sickness.
The long hours at work.
The recoveries!
The assistance with transitioning in how we do absolutely everything in life - from church attendance to school to picking up our groceries!
And a million other things.  


Set that egg timer and everyone just silently say their own quiet prayer to tell God what He really means to them.  




And when Thanksgiving is over???


Keep doing it.


If this "pandemic" has taught us anything, it's that - if we're honest - Thanksgiving is something we have occasion to celebrate more than just once a year.


In our most dire circumstances - when we are most at the end of our own individual resources - can't we all attest that that's when we get the most real with God in our prayers?


Did it ever occur to you that THAT'S BY DESIGN???  


I mentioned earlier how King David was my go to guy in the Old Testament for a representation of what it meant for a scripture based character to celebrate true Thanksgiving and how Jesus' disciple Simon was who I looked to for that same sense of representation in the New Testament.  


Simon and David both approached Thanksgiving to God with a policy of no bullshit.


They weren't proud and pious as they came before God with their needs; they were admittedly at the end of their ropes and they knew it.


Especially Simon.


In 2020, one of the things that Zach and I started binge watching as we found ourselves forced to stay home more than ever before was a crowd funded television series called "The Chosen".


Christian movies and television series are typically at the top of the list of things I hate the most, lol.  


They usually contain writing and acting that is insufferable!  


But this series is the first I've ever seen that brings the characters of the Bible to life in a way that's real and (in keeping with the theme of what it means to be truly filled with the spirit of authentic gratitude) bullshit free.


Jesus' disciples in this show aren't just flat, one dimensional characters aimlessly following Jesus around from town to town for lack of anything better to do!


They are motivated by their faith, their politics and (in Simon's case) their desperation.


In short, this series is unafraid to let God's chosen people actually come off the page and be the people I believe that they truly were in real life - broken, ornery and confused by the Savior they all found themselves simultaneously and THANKFULLY falling in love with.


He met their individual needs in an era of history where people needed their needs met as desperately as what we find ourselves needing our needs met today - in America and around the world as Covid 19 wreaks havoc.


The scene I'm linking to next is from "The Chosen".


Hundreds of years after King David cuts the bullshit and prays a real prayer of Thanksgiving to God for all the ways that he's experienced supernatural provision, Simon - a fisherman who has not been having the best luck in his professional endeavors - experiences supernatural provision tailored to HIS circumstances.


Check it out...


Here's what I love about this episode and its depiction of Simon.

Dallas Jenkins, the writer and producer of this show, executed Simon's desperation in a way that is perfectly relatable.  

Simon is not just a guy who needs to catch some fish in order to avoid having a bad day.

Simon needs to catch fish in a way that he's never had to before in order to avoid his whole life coming apart at the seams!

If Simon were a dude struggling to make life go on working in America in 2021, NOW would be the point of the story where he'd be going out to his car to affix a "Let's Go, Brandon!" bumper sticker to the back of his vehicle.

The deck was STACKED against this guy as much as it could be when Jesus finds him on the shore of this sea and facilitates a miracle for him.

Simon is not having the easiest time surviving in society after the Roman Empire moves to town and starts taxing the ever loving crap out of he and his fellow fisherman.

The guy is set to be imprisoned unless he can pay some crazy high back taxes and in his world?  The only way he's going to make it is if he has like the best fishing expedition he's EVER had in his life in the next 24 hours.

So the guy gets all his gear and his boat and his brother to come along and help and they pull an all nighter!

They are out there attempting to catch fish by moonlight all the way until sun up and... they don't catch a single thing.  

Have you ever been there?

Your life... being able to go on living it in the manner that you've worked hard to be able to live it in the first place... it's all going to come to a crashing halt unless you come up with a plan and execute it flawlessly?
I've been there
Hell, I sort of AM there right now!

There is nothing more unsettling.

Because you can pray and act in faith and do everything that YOU are supposed to do... but if the night of the big moment arrives and the fish aren't biting?  

Well... you're screwed, ain't ya?  

Thanksgiving?

It's the time of year that we should seek to center ourselves enough to know that even if OUR plan doesn't result in our rescue that His plan DOES!

That's Why They Call It Getting Saved!

We have all this theological and doctrinal fodder that we throw around when we're talking about the Christian idea of "salvation".

And I'm not saying that some of the ideas that Christianity promotes around the idea of salvation aren't correct.

But at it's heart, salvation is the thing that yields Thanksgiving... and Thanksgiving - when it's real - results in you posturing yourself after Peter on your knees in front of Jesus being so grateful that He's come through for you in a way that you could NEVER come through for yourself that you say "Thank you so much for doing for me what I never could! I will follow You anywhere!"  😊


Granted, this Thursday?

After your belly is full of food and the tryptophan is kicking in?

You're not physically going to feel like "following" anyone anywhere, lol. 

Unless it's to bed to go into a sweet carb coma and sleep it off, that is.

But on Friday, when you're waking up for the day and coming to your senses and processing the events of the day you just lived through 24 hours earlier?

Maybe that's when you can make the decision (if you never have before) that Thanksgiving is something you're going to carry with you in your heart to a degree you never have before.

Maybe Thanksgiving can materialize into a real decision to start talking regularly to Jesus.

Not necessarily because you're going to start going to church everytime the doors are open... or buy 8 different colors of highlighters to start marking up your Bible with... but because you realize you need Him and on more than just an occasional holiday here and there.

In a world where something as tiny as a virus can destroy every aspect of life, you/we/I need Him everyday.

On the days you are capable of acting like a saint, sure.

But mostly on the days where you're entirely aware that you're acting like what you really are, lol - a sinner. (<-----Trust me on that one!)

It's so simple.

All that has to happen is a devotion to engage Him in conversation!


The Bible says it in more than one place!  

We have to stop making it so complicated.

If you feel gratitude rising up within you this Thanksgiving to the point that you want to be in an eternal relationship with the Giver of all good things... so that you can experience a life of victory like what King David and Simon experienced?

So that you can experience the type of victory that even a heathen like old Nick has faith that someway, somehow he's going to continue to go on to experience once the pandemic chapter of his life is finished?  Lol!

All you have to do is call on Jesus/ Talk to Him/ Make it a thing you do faithfully whether it's G-rated or R-rated.



That's how real gratitude gets fleshed out.

And experienced over and over and over.

"And for all these blessings, may the Lord make us truly greatful."







Wednesday, November 3, 2021

The Boy On The Bus (Originally Written July 2009)

 I recently had a really vivid memory of something that happened one autumn when I was around twelve years old.


People in the gay community are always asking one another "When is it that you *knew* you were gay?"


For me there wasn't ever a specific calandar date to point back to & reference when I'd attempt to answer this. I had brief & fleeting memories of moments over my childhood where I knew I was different from the other boys my age but not really sure what to call it.

For instance I remember being very young & singing in the kids' choir at church & being aware of how much I loved being there and how oddly those feelings seemed to contrast with those of the other boys. I remember they all acted as though they couldn't wait for it to end & I felt like I would want to stay there all afternoon.

I remember, silly as it sounds, loving the way He-Man acted when walking among other residents of Eternia as Prince Adam... lol.


...all of the 'tell tale signs' got progressively more obvious as I got a little older but I never could remember a time prior to coming out as a twenty four year old where I knew what to call it & recognised it for what it was.

Until the other day, that is...

I was going through some old stuff ( & I mean OLD stuff ) from my junior high & high school days & found the remnants of a weekend so long ago I had almost forgotten I had ever lived through it.

I used to save everything as a teenager. My bedroom was a shrine to all things pop culture that I enjoyed... TV Guide covers coupled with pictures of me & the girls I hung out with in junior high & high school covered my bedroom walls to the point that the walls beneath weren't even visible.

When I moved out I took several things off the walls & threw them into a cheap WalMart scrapbook.

There's my backstage pass to the Amy Grant "House of Love" tour that I won from a local Christian radio station in Wichita... US Weekly clippings of celebrity pairings like Teri Hatcher & Dean Cain, Helen Hunt & Paul Reiser... about a jillion POGS (why were those things *ever* cool???)...



...and there's also a wallet sized picture of a boy named Joe.

Joe was a tall, tan soccer playing freshman I met when I went to a Promise Keepers conference with my Dad & church group as a seventh grader.

Lol - I know it sounds so cheesy but looking at that school picture of him balancing that soccer ball on his knee I knew that that weekend I met him was probably the weekend I also first began to accept myself as gay.

Joe & his dad had come on a church bus (just like my Dad & I) to Denver to the Promise Keepers convention at Mile High Stadium.

Joe was from Nebraska & we sat right next to one another in a stadium full of crying men for three whole days - neither of us sure what to make of what was happening around us. There was music & preaching & intermissions & while we knew it was visibly very inspirational to the older men in our midst, as kids we weren't all that moved by what was happening around us...

Luckily Joe had a game boy that we were able to sneak off and play Mario Brothers on for hours...



Other than tons of forty something men hugging & sobbing that weekend Joe is all I remember...

I remember feeling very close to him & dreading the end of the weekend when I'd board a bus back to Kansas & he'd board one back to Nebraska.

I don't know if my Dad was aware that weekend of the fact that I was feeling for Joe what I was but when Joe's church group had to make an unexpected exit from the last night of the conference he was the one responsible for making sure I didn't lose touch with my new friend...

Joe & I had parted ways to go have dinner with our individual church groups the final night of the conference. We were intent on meeting afterwards for one last game of Mario to be conducted during the final presentation Sunday night.

I remember I was wearing a denim jacket & jeans as our church group filed back into the stadium to reclaim our seats...

...all the seats to my right where Joe & his dad & their group had been sitting were oddly vacant. I didn't think too much of it until an older man seated in the row of stadium seats behind us tapped me on my shoulder & asked "Did you get to say goodbye to your friend?"

I remember feeling very panicked in that moment... Goodbye? We still had a few hours before I was planning on saying that... I had wanted to get Joe's address & maybe even give him a hug... ask him if he wanted to be pen pals so we could share video game codes after I got a GameBoy of my own...

"He left?" I asked the man behind us.

"Yeah, guess they got word of some unexpected emergency back home & all had to get out of here just as fast as they could."

"Lord I Lift Your Name On High" began to play announcing the beginning of the final workshop of the conference. The sky over the stadium was purple as the sun set & the air became ever chillier... 👂

...and I remember that as I sat there & began to shiver a tear made it's way down my cheek. I don't know if at that point I even knew why I was crying. But as a twenty eight year old looking back on it now? I know it was because I felt like I'd lost my first love.

My Dad noticed my tears & stooped down to ask me what was wrong...

I don't know why he had the response he did... maybe because I was a twelve year old boy who'd never had a male friend my whole life & because he thought helping me find Joe would be the first step towards securing a friendship with a person not named Jennifer, Natasha, or Mary Beth - lol.

Dad took my hand & we made a beeline for stadium parking...

"You're sure this kid was from Nebraska?" he asked me. I sniffled & responded "Yes."

We made our way through the parking lot, weaving in and out of rows upon rows of giant church buses looking for one on which Joe might be a passenger.

I remember thinking we'd never find him... & being very sad about that & not knowing why.

The sky had turned all the way black when my Dad finally spoke & said, "That's gotta be it... go get this kid's contact information & then let's get back inside. I'm sure we've already missed most of the sermon."

I remember still feeling doubt as I walked up to the bus in line to exit the parking lot. This wasn't his bus... he wasn't on it...

I knocked on the doors to the bus & a obese man flung them open with the lever next to his driver's seat.

"Can I help you?" he asked rather rudely.



I pulled my denim jacket tighter around me and spoke up to him through the cold, "Is there a boy named Joe on this bus?"

The driver shouted something to the back of the vehicle & I was astonished when he motioned for me to step onto the bus.

I walked up the steps & peered down the center aisle.

...and there stood Joe.

"Hey, Nick!" he said, smiling, "What're you doing here?"

I stammered & stuttered & said "I wanted to find you and tell you goodbye."

Joe said, "Sorry we had to leave so soon. I'm glad you found me, though. I was gonna give you this!"

Joe reached in his pocket & pulled out the tiny GameBoy cartridge we'd been amusing ourselves with all weekend.

"For when you get your Gameboy."

"Thanks, Joe." I said.

...and the next thing I remember doing was leaning in & giving him the biggest hug I'd ever given another boy.

...and Joe hugged back. ...and it was the best feeling ever. 👂👂


So I guess, in retrospect, that's when I knew.

It's hard to believe I ever forgot! Something so monumental in one's life shouldn't be banished from the memory.

Joe gave me his address & I wrote him a letter on the bus ride home that I had my Mom mail the second I got back.

We wrote back & forth a few times but then lost touch... I have no idea what happened to him but I still have the wallet sized school picture he mailed me with one of his letters.

I feel like at twenty eight I'm still roaming through an endless sea of church buses looking for one boy in particular...

...and my Dad, God, is holding my hand helping me search reassuring me with words & insisting we can find him... we will find him.

Since taking my sleep tech exam I've had a little time to resume dating... I've gone out with a few guys here in San Antonio & there've been one or two who definitely have potential...

I'm eager to meet whoever may be out there who with one hug can replicate the emotions I remember feeling holding Joe in my arms.

Not caring what anyone thought around me...

...and being certain for the first time that God is love & that love was awesome.



Soundtrack For This Entry -
👂 =



👂👂 =

Additional Media Related To This Blog -



Sunshine In My Soul (Originally Written May of 2011)

   I sat in my newly acquired apartment... on the bedroom floor, actually... and stared at it in the dark...He was so, so, SO perfect. Mirac...