A culture of stuff

What is it about the very wealthy that makes those of us who have little so angry? The noble, self-righteous part of myself believes that it is all the suffering and poverty in the world that turns my stomach sour against the wealthy. The world would be a much different place if the one percent would loosen their grip on the world's resources. Hunger could be eliminated, starvation made a thing of the past. Clothing and shelter could be provided for those with none, with healthcare provided for all who have need. Yes, so many problems could be solved if the rich would just let some of the rest of us get a taste...

There was a point in my life when I looked with disdain on certain "types" of the poor. Standing behind someone in a grocery line who paid for the order with foodstamps or WIC, all the while talking on their iPhone and then loading those groceries up into their Mercedes. Abusers of the welfare system and a blight on our society, I never gave them a chance. I never asked to hear their story. I could barely even make eye contact for fear that they would see the scorn in my eyes. Then, last week, I got put on part-time layoff at my job. I found myself for the first time in my life needing to apply for unemployment benefits. I don't have an iPhone, but I do have an Android. We have a pretty nice car. We also receive WIC checks, and part of my family is on the free state medical insurance. It's ok. I don't tell all of this to get pity, but to be transparent and honest, and to make a point.

The reason I felt disdain towards those who I viewed as abusers of the system was because they had cool stuff. Stuff that, in my eyes, they didn't deserve. I had worked damn hard to get where I was, and here before me was a leech, someone feeding off of my tax dollars and receiving benefits they hadn't worked for and didn't deserve. Thing is, probably to most people on the outside looking in, I have now become part of the leeches. You know what's funny? All that stuff, some of which I have, and some of which I still want, it's not enough. Not even close. Sometimes, when I'm working in a particularly wealthy customer's house, I find myself wondering what I would have to do to get a job that would be able to provide the means to get all the cool stuff they had. When you really break it down, it's envy, pure and simple.

This envy mentality is at the heart of so many things in our lives today. I believe it's at the heart of the countless get rich quick pyramid schemes that turn our closest friends and family into customers to be wooed and seduced into our brilliant new business strategy that will supplement your income so that you can finally have all that glorious stuff you've been working so hard for but never been able to afford and you'll at last be happy and content with no worries. It's a big part of why we feel the need to buy guns to protect ourselves, and by ourselves I refer to all that stuff we've worked so damn hard for that by God, no criminal or psychopath or out of control tyrannical government is ever going to take away from us. It was there, just barely cloaked and under the surface of the "Occupy" movement, when thousands of people who were fed up with the injustice of our system decided to speak up and proclaim loudly, "Unfair!" This kind of behavior dates all the way back to the beginning, when the serpent told Eve that God was withholding the forbidden fruit because if she ate it her eyes would be opened and would become "like God" (Gen. 3:5). Satan presented Eve with something that God had and she did not, and she wanted it.

I know, this isn't a new thought. In theory, we all know that having more stuff won't bring us peace and happiness. Only a relationship with Christ can bring true peace; He is all we really need. How many actually live that though? Next time you find yourself ranting and raving about the injustice of the one percent, stop. Stop, and look deep. Are you really just mad because they get to have so much stuff that you can't possibly ever afford? This mentality of envy and greed has absolutely no place in the church, and yet it is there, brewing just under the surface as we check out the cars everyone else is driving or the latest phone your buddy got or that sweet new gear the guitar player is using up on stage or that new addition the church down the road is spending an obscene amount of money on. Yeah, it's there, but it shouldn't be, plain and simple.

Power and Responsibility

I have no adequate words to describe how very sad the events in Sandy Hook have made me feel. My thoughts and prayers go first to the people in that community who were so deeply affected by the shootings yesterday.

An event like this typically triggers a backlash of heated and ugly debate over gun control laws and their enforcement. I've stayed out of the fray for the most part, but I feel that I can no longer do that. Some of the thoughts that I am going to share here have actually been simmering in my heart for quite some time now. I don't want to talk specifically about gun control laws; I honestly am not sure what the best approach to take is in that arena. I do have an opinion about it, which I will share; however, I readily admit that when it comes to the laws and regulations for gun control I am no expert, and could very well be in error.

The discussion I would like to have concerns the spiritual and emotional ramifications of owning and using firearms. I've heard a plethora of people use statements like "guns don't kill people, people kill people," and refer to guns as inanimate objects or tools as justification for the right to own them.  I will be blunt and call it as I see it - that is complete bullshit. It is true that it takes a person to kill another person, and the gun is not directly responsible for that. I won't debate that. What I want to talk about, and what I think Christians need to take a closer look into, is what the reasons and emotions are that go into the ownership and use of firearms.

I've used guns. When I hold a gun in my hands, when it fires, there is a certain feeling that comes over me. It's a feeling of power and exhilaration. It can be intoxicating. In my hands I hold something that can instantly take a life. I feel bigger, invincible even. I've even noticed it when I play some of my video games. It's an exciting sensation when you manage to find that bigger gun, and consequently can take down scores of bad guys. This is why I feel referring to a gun as an inanimate object is such a foolish statement. Holding a gun, firing a gun, has an emotional affect on a person. It's possible that the effect may change slightly for different personality types, but the fact that it will have an effect is undeniable, once a person understands what that object is capable of.

That feeling of power, invincibility, even safety, is not from God. I would even go as far as to say that it's demonic. This is why, fundamentally, I will never own a gun. Do I believe that owning a gun will cause me to go on a shooting rampage? No. Do I need a gun to feel safe in my own home, to feel safe in an area of the city that I've heard many say "I'll never live there, too much crime, too dangerous,"- absolutely not. I don't want to talk statistics here. It's possible that gun advocates may be right, that an armed society is an effective crime deterrent. My question, the question that I believe the church needs to address, is in whom, or in what, do you place your trust? Why do we believe so strongly that we need to protect ourselves from the vague and unrealistic "evil forces" of this world? Did Jesus not say "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth"? Did he not emphasize weakness over strength, and tell Peter, when he fought back against Jesus' captors, that "those who live by the sword shall die by the sword"?

When my wife and I were first dating, we broke up for a little while. I found out that the reason for the breakup was that another guy was pursuing her. We lived in different states, so there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. Every night I went to sleep fantasizing about the many different ways I would kick his ass should I ever get the opportunity. I never did get that chance, and it's probably a good thing. It's in our nature to crave justice for the wrongs we've been done. It's part of the flaw of sin that we get angry when someone hurts us. Now, put a gun in my hand, do something to make me angry, and you've increased the chances that I may make my own justice in the situation, because now I absolutely have the power to do so. Would I actually do it? Probably not. But the fact remains that the temptation is there, the power is there, and that power is intoxicating. I want nothing to do with it.

I don't know if we need to increase our gun control laws or decrease them. There are convincing arguments on both sides of the aisle. Personally, I tend to lean in the direction of more gun control. I would like to see the ownership of handguns and assault weapons completely banned. Weapons designed exclusively for the taking of human life I find to be offensive. I could be wrong. Perhaps taking away guns will only increase violence; I simply don't know. I hope that that those reading this will see that that is not my point. I believe that Christians need to take a closer look at the spiritual ramifications of gun ownership, to really be honest about the motives behind it and the emotions tied to it. I have many friends who own guns, specifically handguns, and if you are one and are reading this, please understand, I love you, and don't condemn you because of your guns. I have wrestled with this topic for some time now, and don't claim to have all the answers. I have just grown tired of the trite statements about guns not killing people. I think the issue deserves a lot more consideration and prayer than that.

cow manure

With the 2012 election fast approaching, battle lines have been clearly drawn and the mud slinging has begun in full force from all directions. I grow weary of this, as I suspect many others do, but something else strikes as peculiar in this battle of politics. In order to secure our votes, politicians not only point out the opposition's failures and disqualifiers, but they make promises, often grand and overreaching promises. Many of these promises are never kept. They say things like "I will do this" and "I will fix that," but every time their term comes to an end many of those statements turn out to be false. This is not new; everyone has seen this. So, from what I can tell, in order to be a successful politician, you must be prepared to lie, and lie often. And we keep voting, for liars. It's all B.S., if you ask me. But, then again, I grew up in a county that uses cow manure to fertilize for growth, so maybe there is something to it after all.

I love chicken, but this does not feel like love

It's possible that I will take some flak for what I am about to say here, but that's ok.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about this Chick-Fil-A scandal that has gotten the country so hot and bothered. I have, until now, not really felt that I needed to offer any comment on the situation. However, when thousands upon thousands of Christians showed up for the so-called Chick-Fil-A appreciation day, something started irking in my spirit, and I've felt disquieted about it ever since.

Let me preface this by saying that, first of all, I do believe homosexuality to be a sin. The Bible is quite clear on that. I also don't have a problem with Dan Kathy exercising his right to free speech. He's allowed to do that. However, it's also quite clear that what he said made many people feel angry and hurt, and it is the Church's response to that anger and hurt that is bothering me.

Jesus says in Matthew 5:39, "But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." Showing up in droves to show support about an issue that likely would have been all but forgotten in a few short weeks does not feel like turning the other cheek to me. Now I realize (or rather, hope) that probably the majority of the people who showed up for this event did not have hate in their hearts towards gays, but what I think people are failing to consider is what this reaction looks like to the ones who have been offended. It looks like hate. It looks like Christians are taking a stand against gays, and not loving them as we are supposed to. I'm not saying that homosexuality is ok and we should just ignore it, but I think we should be absolutely going out of our way to avoid doing things that could come across as being hateful.

I realize that there are times when it doesn't matter what we say or do, people will find a way to be offended and will find fault in our Christian beliefs. The truth sometimes hurts, and that simply can't be avoided. The issue of homosexuality however, is one issue that many Christians consistently approach with insensitivity, and I feel that there must be a better way.

Homosexuality is, after all, just one out of many sins that all of us struggle with on a daily basis. We, or rather, I have a tendency to forget that detail from time to time. I, or we are very good and pointing out the sins that others are struggling with but often ignore our own. We forget that we were once not any different than gays; we have all at one point or another needed to be saved out of our slavery to sin. Christ came offering salvation to the whole world so that we all might have the opportunity to be restored to a right relationship with the Father and Creator. We have not received that salvation in order to stand on a pedestal and "defend our Biblical values." God doesn't need our defense, He wants us to love the world as He did - unconditionally. Chick-Fil-A does not need our defense. Chick-Fil-A will be just fine. Their chicken, is, after scrumptiously delicious.

False Walls

I have been characterized on numerous occasions as a quiet, thoughtful person who doesn't speak much. I've been told I'm a deep thinker, and a problem solver. These things are true. I like that they are true. They help me to visualize myself as wise, caring, confident, and insightful. I feel pretty good about that. Most of the time.

I wish that was the whole picture.

The truth is that often that quiet, thoughtful part of my personality is often a mask for fear. The truth is that often when I'm feeling particularly insecure about my faith and my worth in Christ I simply smile, shrug, and explain that "I really just don't have much to say on the subject." The truth is that I struggle deeply with sin that I simply don't want other people to know about. It's embarrassing, shameful actually, to try to explain that honestly, the reason I'm not talking much is because I'm afraid of what I might say and who might find out. I might open myself up so wide that people might find out that I'm not quite as admirable and stoic of a figure as they thought.

It's silly really. Or, rather, it's pride.

I'm discovering that God is a God of great mercy. I'm discovering that he loves us all, including myself, unconditionally. I'm finding that even when I've put up every kind of defensive wall I can think of to hide what I can't bear to be seen, He can obliterate those walls in a unrelenting yet completely gentle way. As painful as that really is, the freedom it brings is incomparably and brilliantly life giving. It's new life, and it is so very good.

Groaning

Over the last couple of weeks, the moniker "thehappyhandyman" has not been entirely accurate. I've found myself allowing my job to stress me out in ever increasing doses, and not always dealing with it in entirely healthy ways. I've found myself angry to the point of yelling with coworkers and friends, losing sleep because of anxiety, and even being impatient and insensitive to my wife, my best friend and love of my life. It's not the first time this kind of thing has happened; I understand it really is quite common among the working class. Knowing that, and after spending some time in scripture, prayer, and repentance, I find myself mulling over the difficulties and traps of stress, perhaps better described as anxiety.

After jokingly telling my wife one night that she needed an off switch for her brain so that she would stop losing sleep from over-thinking and processing that day and the next, I saw her face fall and realized that, yet again, I had jumped to a conclusion and tried to solve the problem quickly without really hearing her out. This happens, quite often actually. I'm working on it, so cut me some slack. For me, sometimes all I need to relieve stress is to sit down, relax, read a book, watch a movie, or play a video game. I shut my brain off to the worries and stress from the day, and after an hour or so, feel refreshed enough to face the next task. Now, that type of stress handling can quickly turn into a form of escapism, and that is a slippery slope once started down, a fact for which I am intimately aware. For major stress and anxiety, there simply is no substitute for taking time to talk with the one who once said, "Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?" All that being said, it turns out that the way I handle stress just doesn't quite cut it for my wife. We're actually quite different on multiple levels; go figure.

So everyone handles stress in different ways, apparently. Ok, I understand that. I think what's bugging me is why? Why to we all consistently allow the pressures and trouble of this world get to us? As Paul said, "For in this tent we groan..."(2 Cor. 5:2). After recently discussing that passage with a friend, it has occurred to me that Paul was illustrating two different contrasting points in a seemingly simple statement. We groan, because life is difficult and filled with pain and confusion. The slightly more subtle, but more important point is this though: we groan in a tent. A tent is a temporary house. It's not meant to last, it's not meant to be the end of the line. We're moving, camping out in this wilderness in hopes of someday making it to our real home. It's hard to grasp because we were born in this tent, and we have no concept of what home will really be like.

Ok, so this life is temporary. So when I find myself stressed out and anxious, I just need to remember that life is temporary, and that someday I'll get to go home, really home. Good. Now if that freaking idiot in front of me won't learn how to drive he's going to end up sending me home a lot sooner that I expected. Wait, now I'm stressed out and angry again. See, for me, the biggest things that stress me out and get me riled up are people, people who are rude or unfair or just plain jerks. Now it has occurred to me that I can't just go through life floating on a cloud because everything's temporary and I don't really need to care about you or your crappy attitude. Wait, I have a crappy attitude? Who are you to judge me? None of this really matters and gosh I can't wait to get to heaven so I don't have to deal with this anymore.

"For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God," (2 Cor. 5:21). In the ultimate act of selfless love, Christ gave himself up and took on the weight of sin of the entire world. Totally without sin, yet totally selfless in his love for his soiled and stained bride-to-be, he took what he did not deserve, but did what absolutely no one else could have done in order to reconcile his bride. So often I get so angry and stressed out because someone is not being "fair" and "just." I take offense time and time again because I have this pompous idea that somehow I deserve better. I have failed to love, because I forgot how deeply and unrelentingly I am loved. And I wonder where stress comes from.

A love letter

I may be accused of being a sappy romantic after this.

When I first met you, my head couldn't stop spinning. I'm still spinning, but now we're spinning together.

When I first told you I loved you, and you whispered back "I love you too," my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. I wanted to jump up and down and dance with you until morning came.

When I asked "Will you?" and you crashed into my arms and whispered "Yes" without a pause, I could barely speak. Neither could you, because you had laryngitis.

When you cry, I'm in agony with you. When you laugh, my heart soars.

Our story has not always been pretty. Our story has only just begun. What has been, has been, and I wouldn't change a thing.

You're my best friend, and I love you.