For the past week, through reading both To Own a Dragon by Donald Miller on my own and Wild at Heart by John Eldriedge for small group, I've had to deal with a painful memory and an ache in my heart that shows me how much I need Jesus. Despite my unintentional attempts at being self-sufficient and my omissions with my so-called faith, I cannot deny that I need Jesus.

In the fourth chapter of Wild at Heart, there is a discussion of "the wound" - some significant injury that is caused by one, or sometimes both of your parents in your life. I immediately recalled mine, which was brought to life even more clearly in some of what I was reading in To Own a Dragon, which is a book of reflections about growing up without a father and what Donald Miller learned about God as Father while living with a married couple for awhile. Early in my teens, after my relationship with my mom deteriorated for awhile, there was a specific incident when she insulted me in front of my younger siblings and a friend or two while we were in the van. It cut me so much that I opened the sliding door and jump out before she finished pulling up to a stop sign. My next memory, after being relieved that I landed and stayed on both feet, was seeing her speed off, screaching tire, no less.

I was pretty close to my grandparents house, but decided they would just call my parents to pick me up. So instead, I walked down the hill to the creek and walked along the banks for a few miles. It was cold, damp, and a little rainy that day. I cried a lot, and prayed even more about how could my mom insult me like that. I was trying to be taken seriously, and the insult made it quite clear that she did not take me seriously. I prayed that God would take me to heaven, that I was done with life as I knew it, that I was trying to be a Christian, but if no one loved me then why be here. I walked and cried and prayed like that until night fall, probably about 10 miles round trip until I realized I should go home before there were police looking for me.

I was grounded immediately upon arriving at home, told to immediately go to my room. No conversations about the incident, at least meaningful ones, just we'll talk about this later kind of thing. It was clear to me that my action was taken as offense to my parents, not an action they should investigate about what I was thinking, feeling, and most importantly how I was hurting. About a week later while at a reception after church, I was with my dad while he was in a conversation with some friends of his, older people that I looked up to in some ways. In a break of the conversation, I asked him if he could take me to a store in the next town over for some supplies for a school project. In a joking manner he said to me in front of these people, "Why not go yourself? You just walked there last week." That just crushed me; I was caught blind with a cut, stunned and had no ability to react. I'm pretty sure I just walked away. Somehow I got the courage to confront him about it that night at home, and I told him that really hurt, especially since he said it in front of other people. He apologized, but I still never sensed he understood the impact of his words, or the impact I was trying to show in my actions the previous weeks of trying to be taken seriously.

To this day, I still don't really feel that my parents see me as a 30 year old, as a husband, or now as a father. We just don't have serious conversations about things. Thoughout high school, college, and after college, I had those types of conversations with my grandparents and my uncles. When I shared these thoughts with A* before our last small group on Friday, she confirmed that my thoughts about current events with my family are indeed true. But I realized as I was preparing for small group that I try very hard to act and react in a way with others that they will take me seriously - to gain credibility and validation. I need it, or I feel like I am simply worth nothing.

This is where Jesus comes in, for throughout all of the gospel stories, he didn't require a single person to prove their credibility. He took everyone seriously, loving them immediately and with compassion. Their validity was based solely on them being created by God. As Miller quotes John MacMurray in To Own a Dragon about the immediate love John had for his son when his son was born, if that is even a fraction of a metaphor for God's love for us, how safe and secure we are in God's love! The problem is that it takes faith to believe that, or more importantly faith to pray that God will help our unbelief. Because I have to also admit that as much as I know what I acknowledge MacMurray's sentiment in my head, and as much as I think what he said is true, I have been having a lot of difficulty believing it faithfully. Because even the metaphor can become so abstract, so mystical, or even imaginary, that sustaining the relationship with God feels impossible, especially when the structure which claims to represent His love fails you, and community is not the constant presence that we all desire. But that is why I need Jesus even more because He is the faith I need, the live I want, and the air I need to breathe.

It has been another week since I've written here. I'm not quite sure why I have been slacking off. I've certainly had things running through my head that I should write about. This past weekend we went back to Pittsburgh to show off Amelia to our extended family. It was nice to see my aunts and uncles and some of my cousins (some are away at college). I wished that I had more opportunity to have adult conversations with my aunts and uncles. We had brief moments, but nothing substantial. It still amazes me, but maybe shouldn't surprise me, that I cannot have these types of conversations with my parents very well. Something always turns the tone of a conversation. As I think of it some more, I think it's probably my mom's exaggerations on anything and everything. I really hope that I do not do the same thing, but I probably do.

It has been another year that I have had the blessing to walk this earth. A* surprised me wonderfully with showing up at my office yesterday with Amelia and angel food cupcakes in hand. Angel food is my favorite type of cake. Amelia was alert, awake, and willing to smile to many, many people as we took her around to show my co-workers. It was a nice break from an otherwise mundane, yet stressful day of work.

But this birthday isn't just any ordinary birthday. It's actually the beginning of the 4th decade I've been alive. Yup, I turned 30! Inside I feel pretty old, but at work it would be discarded by others as foolishness since many of the people I work with are old enough to be my parents. So I have kept it quiet, though A* blessed me also with a 30 balloon, which is flying in my office.

So while we were in Pittsburgh, we went to a new church that had many people from my old hometown church. It was somewhat surprising, but not totally since the lead pastor is the son-in-law of two of the most prominent members of my old hometown church. It is a small church that became the 10,000th Willow Creek Associated church. I don't know what that means exactly, but I do know that the original Willow Creek Church has had some fascinating and successful ideas on how to share the love of Jesus with people. They are also one of the biggest churches in the country, which doesn't necessarily mean anything. What I do know about the WCA is that they try to help mold and train leaders, and also encourage preachers to speak in plain english so that everyone can understand what God is calling them to preach, not just those familiar with church-speak.

The pastor started a series about disclosures, his disclosures of sin that he felt he should tell his flock, as he was convicted that God does not want him to be a super-Christian figure that people look up to as a the goal of a Christian, but rather a sinner saved by Jesus just like everyone else. This past week, the first one in the series, he spoke about tithing and finances. (Why is it that 90% of the time that we visit a church for the first time we hit the money sermon week?) He talked about how he didn't tithe for two years, even while he was on a church staff at the sponsoring church of this church plant and this current church. He gave lots of reasons and excuses he made, spoke of the convictions of the Holy Spirit, talked about how he was in bondage to credit card debt, and other things. He was very open and honest, and it was refreshing to hear a pastor talk without hiding behind his or her credentials or robes. Next week he was planning to talk about sex, which he warned to parents would be PG-13, and I wished that I would have been able to be there, as it is a subject that all men struggle with.

It made me wonder why it is that pastors think they have to maintain a super-Christian front, why they don't admit their humanity and sinfulness (at all sometimes), and act as if they are the first and last authority on scripture and all that is "church". It became clear again to me why I have such a distrust and lack of enthusiasm for the traditional church structure. And it made me glad that both A* and I desire to be in a small group community where that isn't as prevalent. There was an article called "Stopping Cultural Drift" I read in Christianity Today about an Asian pentacostal seminary professor arguing that we need to know what the church is before we figure out what the church does. His premise is that God made the world in order to make the church, not vice versa. His point is that the church is not an our instrument in order to transform or save people, but that the church is God's creation for us to be in relation with Him in that we relate with Him through relating with other believers. I totally agree with this, and I saw this take shape at the church we visited. The pastor was clearly there relating to us as we all, him included, seek to be in relationship with God. I hope that they continue to relate to God and each other as a church as they showed us. And I hope that A* and I can do the same as we invest in a new community of believers.

For the past two working days, I've been working on a presentation I am giving at a conference in February. I have spent about 10 working hours trying to craft this presentation consciously knowing that I could impress people both with the research I completed, the thesis I had published, and the knowledge I've gained. Meanwhile, I've gone 11 days without writing a lick on here both consciously and subconsciously thinking that I have nothing to write about, that there isn't really anything worthwhile going on or just feeling down about myself. Somewhere along the way I've convinced myself that even my journaling must be witty or impressive and if it is not, it's not worth writing --- or is it that am I just not worth much as a person?

Both of the above examples screams something out at me: an absence of God. I could give a number of excuses which wouldn't pile up to anything that could make that change. I have been absent from God, I have been trying to do it on my own, again both consciously and subconsciously.

I recall clearly as I was lying in bed on Saturday night not all that enthusiastic about going to church, feeling pretty down on myself, that it's just too hard to plug into this church. And this is despite having a pretty successful meeting of a new small group. Call it warm-weather winter blues, call it self-loathing, I don't know for sure, but it's still a clear absence of God. Just as we feel lonely after time away from friends and family, I am feeling that way with God. I miss Him, and I know it's all on me. I just need to spend the time with Him.

The other day I was over in the music department upgrading some software for the music library. I worked there one summer living on my own in a house for real for the first time. Not to mention that during 4 semesters surrounding that summer I spent the majority of my time in that building studying music history, learning music theory, composing new music, learning how to conduct, and listening to more music than I can honestly remember. (Listening quizzes were sooooo much fun!)

But I had a few minutes to kill before going to play basketball at lunchtime so I went into one of the practice rooms and sat down at a piano. I think I've only played the piano once or twice at home since Amelia was born, and while I don't begrudge her at all for that, I do miss playing. I enjoy playing worship music, and used to compose frequently. I only had time to play one song and since I didn't have my music with me I played a song that I knew I could play from memory: How Great is Our God by Chris Tomlin.

That song has had a profound effect on me especially because it came up in worship at church most often when I didn't feel like being there or I or we were going through a difficult time. But regardless of the circumstance, I was, and still am, drawn to sing that song with my entire heart. I really believe it is a benchmark in the faith Jesus himself instilled in that heart of mine that no matter what is happening, I can honestly and truly acknowledge how great our God is.

But there is more that this song represents or helps me to realize. For one, it's not the most beautifully or most difficult song ever written. It's not particularly theoretical or avant-garde. And its lyrics aren't particular poetic. But it is a pure example of how God can use music and words set to music to help us to relate to Him, to worship Him, and to follow Jesus. That is why I chose to study music in the end. I didn't know it at the time when I switched my majors, but I came to realize that in those last 2 years of my music study.

It is also representative that some music or songs will touch others in different ways. I have a friend who does not particular like How Great is Our God. And there are worship songs that he finds more compelling to his heart that I don't care for. It shows how God relates to us in different ways, with different elements, for different reasons. It's similar to why we can recite Romans 8:28 to each other in God's work in different situations in life.

Lastly, it is evidence to me that worshiping our God is not limited to musical style, liturgical influence, banners, robes, hand guestures, and anything else. It is being able to speak, feel, think, believe, and live out the greatness of our God.

This afternoon we said goodbye to Luigi. It is by far the most difficult decision and action we have ever made in our marriage. As I saw Luigi leave me for the last time, unable to say goodbye because I wanted him to follow the nice volunteer, emotions started to take hold of me. The director of the rescue was kind and gentle, talking to me about various things that will go on with Luigi's care. For a brief moment I wanted to ask her to stop talking, but I soon realized that she was experienced in this moment, and I was not, and that she was actually helping me -- at least until I got out the door.

It was clear that I had suppressed a great deal of emotions throughout this entire process. I had been too practical and pragmatic for my own good, and my heart needed to ache. I burst into tears and sobs the moment I left the building, continuing in that manner the entire drive home. During that drive, my fears and doubts seized their opportunity to dump into the crack of my heart that was finally breathing by trying to convince me that I am a bad husband and a terrible father and person overall for making this decision and taking this action. I could not control my tears when I got home and sobbed on A*'s shoulder apologizing. It became another difficult moment for her because she appeared to have made her peace with the decision believing I would remain as stoic has I had previously until last night. But she told me later during a walk around the neighborhood she was glad to know that I had an emotional reaction to this process.

As I sobbed in self-pity and self-deprecation, I took a brief glance at Amelia, who was sitting on the couch propped up by the pillows and A*. She produced a full, bright, toothless smile, ear to ear, with an innocense that touched me to the core of my being. While not immediate or completely, my heartache - and especially my doubts and fears - were eased by that smile. It was the first time she had ever seen us cry, though I doubt she knew we were crying. But I also know for sure that she did not smile randomly. While she also doesn't know that the main reasons for our decision revolved around her coming into our family, it has become clear to me that she knows who I am - someone that loves her, that she trusts, and someone that she smiles for.

And that is the only reason I needed to stop believing the lies of my doubts and fears.

For the third consecutive night, I am out of bed trying to do something else but lie in bed trying to fall asleep. Tonight, however, is a bit different than the previous two nights. Tonight is possible the last night we will have our dog Luigi. Having already given up our other dog, we have an appointment with a rescue group tomorrow at 2pm about placing Luigi in their care, in hopes of them finding him a permanent home. Needless to say tonight has been rather emotional, but for me, it was emotional in a way that I didn't really expect.

Luigi was a gift from me to A* before we were even engaged. He's been a part of her life, and ours, in a lot of big ways. And as much as I try to tell A* that it will be ok in the end, and as much as we made this decision together a few weeks ago, it is still an emotional time for her, and I tried (and will still try) to allow her space to go through that process. I thought it would be nice to let Luigi sleep in our bed tonight, having just bathed him so he's not filthy tomorrow, since he used to sleep with A*, and later us, awhile ago. I petted him and layed next to him with A*, feeling in my stomach a nervous feeling like we are about to move or graduate or something, and my heart beating a little faster than normal. For me the decision has mostly been on a practical, pragmatic level, though I've dealt with some emotions here and there, like last week when I was flipping through the TV channels and My Dog Skip was on. I had to change it because I started missing Pebbles (who is a jack russell like "Skip"). And also last week when I took Luigi to the vet, as I mentioned last post.

But tonight my emotions overflowed from doubt, fear, and sadness. Did I force us into this decision? Is this really the right decision? Am I being a bad husband? I really do love Luigi, I said out loud. I had to let the tears flow and the emotions out. It was clear that I had suppressed them in the name of practicality for too long. And while the practical reasons are still valid, the heart doesn't always follow the head.

After I calmed down and tried to fall asleep, my mind continued to ponder some of these questions, but in a different context. Earlier this evening A* and I were talking about some things in the sense of things that make us happy or fulfilled immediately but sad later versus longterm fulfillment. I said that we needed to have discipline, keeping the thoughts of the longterm in our minds to compete with the short-term gains that will not help us in the end. In the context she was dealing with I felt like I couldn't give her a proper answer. But as I think of that context to this situation, I am having trouble keeping perspective for myself. Which led me here -- to journal.

I'm struggling in my head to be confident in our decisions, and more so that I am being a good husband and father in my part within the decision processes. This is a crucial time for us, I believe, as we step into the new challenges I mentioned before and others that are on the horizon. We will be making decisions about commitments to Christian community, whether that be a small group we invest in together, or individually in a women's and men's group. We will most certainly be making a number of decisions about parenting Amelia.

I know in my heart that in the flux of not being in constant Christian community and especially not being able to consistently be in a corporate worship environment has taken a toll on me and us. It is clearly evident that of all things, it is important for me to be in relationship with Jesus, to be in His presence, listen to His voice, and walk alongside Him. The friendly online debates and conversations about theology or doctrine or church things mean little as being in relationship with Jesus. In the midst of these fears I have, these doubts I battle, it is Jesus that I need to look to, to listen to, and talk to. And hopefully... get some rest.