Moving to Wordpress

Back in January I started a Wordpress site with the intention of transitioning away from Blogger. Well, it sort of got buried beneath a pile of academics and work for a semester, and then I had simply forgotten about it until recently. So, I logged in, did a little work on the theme, imported my blog posts, and observed the differences between the sites for a week before deciding which one to stick with.

I chose Wordpress.

Here's why: reliability. I'm actually surrendering a feature that I've come to appreciate so much on Blogger, that being the ability to use my own CSS without having to pay for a "premium" account, but this singular advantage has found itself grossly outweighed by the fact that Blogger is unreliable at best, unstable at normal, and outright unusable at worst. Here's what I mean: I've had multiple instances on Blogger where I'll write a post, publish it, and then come back later to find out that it hadn't published. Sometimes, these "published but not published" posts would revert themselves back to early drafts, and I'd have to either re-write the whole thing from memory, or abandon it out of frustration. What's more, I've had instances where a post I'm nowhere near ready to publish will somehow publish itself. The most recent incident with this was part two of my series on depression; a post that is maybe halfway written in draft suddenly went public and I didn't catch it until probably 9-10 hours after it went live.

Wordpress offers my solution to these problems and more. Organizing posts on Blogger pretty much has to be done via the label (tagging) system, the stock themes are horrible and even worse to try to customize (you'd basically have to write your own page from scratch if you want something that functions well), whereas on Wordpress there are stock themes with organization built in. For what I'm doing, I no longer have to spend hours upon hours tinkering with code to add more functionality to my page. The only bit of functionality I've lost in the transition is the arbitrary animation of my social media icons (they would go from 75% opacity to 100% and tilt 30 degrees clockwise when your cursor hovers over them). While I would like to find a way to get this back, it's not necessary.

Anyway, all of this is to say that this will be my last post on Blogger. You can find my new site up and running over at http://epitomeoftoast.wordpress.com.

See you there!

PS: If you subscribed to this blog, you will need to re-subscribe to the new one. I do apologize for any inconvenience this causes.

[This is Music] Song of the day: Haven (Conveyer)

I've basically been in love with Conveyer's music ever since I first listened to "Worn Out," but that's not exactly the reason why I chose Conveyer's new single "Haven" to be my Song of the Day. I met Conveyer's current vocalist, Danny, at a coffee shop in Wisconsin back in 2012 when he was with All Became New. Hearing his story of faith encouraged me to press on toward the goal of the gospel, and though I did fall out along the way, "Slumlord's Prayer" (by All Became New) was something that I held onto for encouragement. The line, "No longer sleeping with doors painted red, we laugh in the face of death as we pass over it," became incredibly real to me, like a beacon of light that found me no matter how deep I sank. In 2014, I met Danny again, this time with Conveyer, and we shared stories of faith and doubt and learning and growing and understanding this thing called "grace". Once again, I was encourage to press on and fight the good fight of faith. It was one of those conversations that left me convinced it was orchestrated by God.

When I heard Haven, I could feel the lyrics deep in my soul; even on a day when I was very depressed and feeling emotionally and physically numb, there was something powerful in the song that seemed to wake me up. It is extremely rare for music to have that effect on me anymore, but I think there was something about knowing it was Danny singing those words that brought my mind back to our conversations in 2012 and 2014, reminding me that it's okay to have doubts and struggles, but that I shouldn't doubt God's power to change lives (even my own). I'm still called to press on toward the goal of the gospel, no matter how many times I have to keep getting back up.

Thanks Danny.



Lyrics:

This is my aberration from the world I've come to know
Opposed to all that hinders the freedom of my soul
Faithless in a future disregarding my conviction
Remove me from the mindset of man

I hope I'm not just counting down the days
Until I relapse and forget to relate
There's got to be more than what we're all conditioned to expect
From this self-centered world of hate and regret, pain and neglect
I'm trying my best

I've had a change of heart
You have captivated this man
I will sing praises to show them
A chorus carried up on high

Ignoring importance, ignoring the critical
Existential urgency
Ignoring our purpose, ignoring the vital
Bled dry by apathy
Avoiding moral imperative

Dead without life, an end with no means
A population of selfish men who have no one to blame but themselves
The world is plain and simple; depravity of the heart
Living in a constant spiral of moral disregard
You will be my Haven for the rest of my days
Refine me from my self-centered ways

[This is Music] SOTD: Dissimulation

The piece I've chosen to be my song of the day is "The Awakening (Dissimulation)" by Hope for the Dying, the title track from their (fantastically well done) album, "Dissimulation." The reason I chose it is because the lyrics really encouraged me today: that I have been offered a new beginning, to die to sin and live a new life in Christ. That grace, that new beginning, is something that I hope I never take for granted. Even if you're not into metal, the message of these lyrics is profound. I hope you can be as encouraged by this as I was.

Lyrics:

How could this be
That out of the darkness
A light has been cast upon me?
And what would I do
If my own irreverence
Forever kept me from the truth?
I've watched the aging face
In the reflection stare at me;
Watching hour by hour
He affords no sympathy.
I've tried to dim the lights
To avoid accusing stares
But He always find my eyes
and reminds me who I am.
I've felt the hand of mercy
Reaching down for me
To pull me from the trenches
To calm the stormy seas
To wash me in the waters
To cleanse me in the blood
To start my new beginning
And vanquish what I was

Day Trip

Today I took a day trip to St. Louis! It may seem foolish, to drive 2 1/2 hours each way just to spend a few hours there, but it was a much-needed and well-timed escape. My original reason for going was simply to pick up my new CPU from the Microcenter in Brentwood, but after a long and busy week punctuated by more anxiety attacks, I was in need of something spontaneous to clear my head for a while. So I texted a friend who I knew to be in St. Louis and made plans to hang out with them for the day. Then, like any sane person, I woke up at 7am on a Saturday so I could get in my car and drive 2 1/2 hours so I could spend a bunch of money (please note my sarcasm).

Anyway, I was pretty stoked when I got to Microcenter. I tried to apply for a Microcenter credit card, but you know how it goes: "Oh, you're 20-something and don't really have a credit history? Of course you can't have one of our cards." Alas. My friend showed, I paid for my CPU (look at that lovely Intel Core i7-5820k in the picture) and we spent the next hour or so walking around the store, ogling geeky technological things that we can't afford; eventually we decided to leave. Then she took me into this store called "Five Below" which, as its name suggests, has nothing over $5. So I picked up this lovely Storm Trooper t-shirt for, you guessed it, five bucks! I thought I was cleverly getting away with something, but then they got me at the checkout with a box of buttons; I couldn't resist a couple that I hadn't seen before which I immediately decided that, for a dollar each, absolutely needed to be added to my collection. From there I dropped my car off for an oil change at Dobbs, some chain-looking auto service place right next to Microcenter (this may seem irrelevant to the story right now, but wait until later).

On we went to the mall, where we stumbled into Teavana (I'm not really sure how to pronounce the name, but it's a tea shop) and I found this bag of amazing oolong that is actually off-limits for consumption until fall (I'll write more about it when the time comes). I then re-discovered how much I don't actually know how to properly go about eating a Chipotle burrito, but salvaged some dignity by reminding myself how delicious an iced mocha is when it's hot and I'm tired. We also found a Microsoft store, which made me a little happy; it was the first time I'd ever seen one in the wild and it was good to know that there stands a contender to the sucker-baiting Apple stores. Though in all honesty, it only made me want to return to Microcenter to play around with their gadgets. After the mall we trolled around some random shops that were clearly designed for people with moderately inflated budgets, and finally found a place that I could get excited about!

The record shop.

The store is called Euclid Records and if you're ever in the Brentwood, STL area, you should definitely check it out. They have probably the biggest selection of used CDs I've ever seen, and most of them are actually good. To give you an idea, I perused for probably close to 45 minutes and only saw about half the collection. Nevertheless, I was able to walk out with a Switchfoot CD that (oddly enough) is now the first one in my own collection, and another CD by an artist whom I only knew one song from: ImaRobot! The CD turned out to be cool (I definitely listened to it twice on my way back to Moberly), but I still think this is the song that will forever play in my mind whenever I think of the band:



Anyway, after the record shop I got a call from Dobb's to let me know that my car was ready for pickup, and also to let me know something that came as a bit of a bummer: my serpentine belt is cracked. He asked if I wanted to go ahead and have them replace it, but after he stated the price, I figured "well, I don't really know how long it's been cracked, but my guess is it'll still get me back home and let me tool around for a couple weeks until I can buy the belt and get one of my auto-mechanically-inclined friends to help me with it." So, with that thought in mind, I did what any sane person would do and told them to leave it be. My friend drove me back to pick up my car, and we decided to part ways for the day; it was barely 4:00, but I was already getting pretty tired and didn't want to find myself nodding off while driving home.

And here I am now, sitting up late and wondering how I'm still awake as I type away at this post. I suspect I'll be exhausted again tomorrow, and don't expect the upcoming week to provide any relief in that department. If anything, I'm going to be even more tired by the end of it because I have things to get caught up on before the semester starts in a measly 18 days (I can honestly say this is the first time I find myself not particularly looking forward to it). That aside, get ready for some more posts; I am planning to write more regularly, and part two of a series I started previously is nearing completion.

I wonder how many grains of rice are in a Chipotle burrito.

[This is Music] Song of the Day: Messy Masterpiece

There are a few reasons why I chose this to be my song of the day, but right now I need its encouragement to remind me that despite how messed up I am, I'm still loved immeasurably by the God of the universe. Even aside from anxiety and depression, it's so easy to get down on myself for the mistakes I make on a daily basis: the things I think that shouldn't really be passing through my mind, the way I look at people, the things I sometimes mutter under my breath in frustration, or even the attitudes I hold toward certain things. Yet, "As you look upon your messy masterpiece, my heart beats one step ahead of my feet."

Hopefully you can be as encouraged by this as I am.

Lyrics:

Son, you are my song, let's hear something beautiful.
As you look upon your messy masterpiece, my heart beats one step ahead of my feet.
"No guilt in life, no fear in death; from life's first cry to final breath;
No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from my Father's hand."

Love of the Father is the only hope for a wayward son.
Blood and water paved the painful road home, done.
Grace and mercy come with every single morning dawn.
This heavenly heartbeat's the only reason I can carry on.

Kid, see yourself through your Father's eyes;
It's not the same shade as the world cries.

I confess, I don't know much about love;
Where it's from is just so high above.
But until my time arrives, love is the reason I'm alive.
Son, you are my song, let's hear something beautiful.
As you look upon your messy masterpiece, my heart beats one step ahead of my feet.

[This is Music] Album of the Day: Being as an Ocean

I used to do these "song of the day" posts, now I think I'll add to it with some "Album of the Day" posts. Of course, you probably shouldn't bank on these happening every single day.

Anyway, today's album is Being as an Ocean's self-titled record. My reason why? Honest guys talking honestly about struggles with faith, and it's freaking awesome to listen to. Enjoy.

A Day in the Life (Vlog)

Due to a Blogger glitch (I promise it wasn't my fault), this blog post didn't actually go public the first time I clicked "Publish", despite appearing to me as though it did. Not only that, but it had reverted itself to a draft I had originally written using the mobile app. So, with that in mind, I am now re-posting in hopes that this will actually reach you, the reader. Though, I have to admit, even I find it pretty lame that a vlog I uploaded FOUR DAYS AGO is finally making it here. 

Sorry guys, I've just been busy.

This post is actually a vlog, and should hopefully tie you over until I do some much-needed updates to the appearance of my blog. I promise I'll do more actual writing soon. In fact, part two of Living with Depression is already in the works, and I have a few other concepts bouncing around in my head that I'd love to start writing about. Anyway, enjoy this little video. I even recorded my own music for it!

A Little Video

I know this isn't really much of a blog post, but while I think of what to write next, here's a little video. To describe it? Last summer I put a GoPro on my brother's head and, well, this is what came out. Hopefully I can do it again with my newer, better GoPro when I see him next?

Reasons for Absence

I haven't posted anything since the end of May, and there are a couple reasons for this.

The first reason is that I've just been busy. Summer work in the I.T. department at the college has proven to be a plateful. My roommates and I were doing all sorts of fun stuff, and then something happened: their job got transferred to Kansas. Which means for the entire month of June, the house slowly transformed from the big, beautiful, open home that it was into a maze of boxes and wrapped-up furniture. So if I wasn't working, I was trying to track down a new apartment and possible roommates. After struggling to find a place, I finally settled on the right apartment (as I talked about in my last vlog: "don't rant and drive, kids") and started packing. Finally, on June 26th, I moved in.

Now I'm in the apartment and things seem to be finally settling down a little... Well, temporarily at least. The first guy to say he'd be my roommate isn't able to move in until mid-to-late-August, and he wanted to make sure we had someone take over my share of the lease if I leave in December. So, enter new roommate #2. He moved in the same day I did and said he had okay finances to get by. A week later, he told me that he was depending on a change in his work schedule to bring more finances in, and that it wasn't happening. Due to financial struggles, and the fact that he is not bound to a lease like I am, he was moving out at the end of next month to return to the dorms. However, things seemed to turn around and his work hours increased and thus, he was able to stay.

But, it's not all clouds and rain (even if the weather has been lately). My bedroom in the new apartment is rather spacious and has nice, thick padding under the carpet which means, in conjunction with my acoustic foam panels (which are now up on the walls), it's a pretty acoustically-friendly room. I've got my black sheet up on the wall, and my video booth is ready to go. I also just picked up a lovely little desk last night that is unfortunately too small to be able to use as my workstation, but will serve well as a study desk nonetheless. I'll just have to either find a wider desk to use as a workstation, or build one. And building one may be an option because...

I just started a new job! The employer is a local media group called Notionfront, and while the official job title is "IT Assistant," it is much more than that and I anticipate the probability of it being able to grow into something long-term, should I so desire (which means I no longer have to push to leave in December; that was a struggle in my mind from spring until now). Anyway, I've been doing freelance work with them lately and he decided to just hire me on as a part-time worker, with the promise that it can go full-time in the spring when my schedule opens up more (which also means pay raise). Lately I've been building them a vocal recording booth and the scrap pieces (four 1' x 4 ' plywood pieces) can be used to make a surface for a new workstation desk at home, if he'll let me keep them.


The other reason for my absence... I had started a series on living with depression, and ironically, I got depressed and just haven't really had the energy to start writing the next part. I've been feeling a little overwhelmed with trying to figure out how I'm going to finish my internship, and all I want to do lately is be either outdoors, sleeping, or both. It's all the usual stress of life, but I've been learning that I don't handle stress very well (or maybe I do and just keep running up against my limit). Nonetheless, I feel it would be a little silly to start writing more about depression when I'm having a hard time just putting simple thoughts into writing; the usual dilemma of my mind racing faster than my fingers can react. Nonetheless, the existence of the first post of my "depression" series alone is enough to make me not want to write anymore because I don't know how to express myself well enough to help me understand myself, let alone help other people understand me. Maybe my over-thinking is my demise.

But, more vlogs should be coming (maybe, lol) and that excites me. There is something else coming up soon that excites me, but that's my own little secret. ;)

Don't Rant & Drive (Vlog)

I'm going to bed.

New Videos Series

So this week I've started working on something a little bit different. At work, since I have a healthy amount of free time this month, I'll be making a series of videos dedicated to quick tips for the next I.T. student worker. Since I'll be leaving after December and there's always a transitional "hiccup" with any new employee, I'd like to help ease that in the future. If I have extra time, I'll also be doing some simpler tip-and-trick "how to" videos for people who may just want a little extra knowledge of how to keep their own computers up to snuff. Additionally, I'll be doing some heavier things like gutting a laptop and moving all of its internal components into a new case (which I'm really looking forward to).

Anyway, I've made my first two videos, and I figured I may as well blog them here.

Living With Depression: History and Background (Part 1)

The other night while I was driving back to Moberly from Columbia, I realized that while I've talked briefly about my depression in various blog posts in the past, I've only touched on minute aspects of it and have never actually talked in-depth about what my experience with it is like on a day-to-day basis. So this sparked up an idea that has surfaced intermittently in my mind over the past year or so: a series of blog posts dedicated solely to talking about my personal experience with long-term depression.

IS THIS REAL LIFE? A BRIEF HISTORY AND BACKGROUND

My earliest memory with depression was fifteen years ago, when I was nine years old. It may have started sooner, but this is the earliest that I can look at it and think, "Yep, that's depression." I had been chapter 51'd for attempting suicide by walking down the middle of the street hoping to get hit by a car. While I don't remember much from the hospital itself, I remember being one of the younger kids there. I also remember my dad coming one night to take me home. I can only suspect it was not an authorized release, because he told me at the time not to tell anybody, and when we got home he instructed me not to turn any lights on, but rather closed the blinds and lit a couple of candles. I never actually learned why he did what he did that night, but I do have a couple suspicions. Nevertheless, I digress.

Though social and familial isolation while growing up definitely played a role in feeding my depression, there is also much, much more to it that I've talked about in various blog posts before. One Little Lie and Cutter are two reads that I would recommend in terms of adding a bit more context to the storyline. Most of my memories between the ages of nine and sixteen are blurry to me; unless a memory surfaces randomly in my mind, odds are I won't remember it. I remember "going crazy" (as some may call it), talking to myself and getting lost in mental fantasies only to return to a reality that was generally cold and foreboding. My distaste for reality, of course, spurred more and more elaborate fantasies, sometimes blurring the lines of reality to the point that my dad would question whether my "friends" were actually real (the truth is, I lied to my dad about having friends until I was fifteen just so that he wouldn't worry about me). Had I actually opened up with my counselor as a child about these fantasies, there's a chance I may have actually ended up institutionalized for how closely they sometimes bordered on psychosis. 

The question of whether or not I experienced psychotic episodes as a child is one that I've pondered in great depth, but also one that I've never been able to come to a definite conclusion on. Mostly, this is due to the fact that I was always in control of the fantasies and knew what was real and what was not. The closest I came to a psychotic episode was when I was fifteen and in juvi; I found myself so caught in a mental fantasy (which I had created as a way of coping with the reality of being incarcerated) that for a few brief minutes, I legitimately lost touch with what was real and, in a moment of realization that I can only attribute to a transcendent force that I had not yet become aware of, snapped back to reality. This is the primary incident in question; the rest were less severe. I would have internal dialogues with "voices" in my mind, but I always had some degree of control over them and always realized that they weren't real. I've always chocked it up to a hyperactive imagination.

Though my INFJ personality does lend to being more reclusive than most, depression while growing up certainly affected my ability to socialize. Combine that with the fact that my dad worked most of the time (which I admire to a degree), I found myself alone more often than not and generally operated on my own, internally, intuitively, and spontaneously. Unfortunately, I was also an angry child, lacked moral guidance, and was almost continuously on probation. My early teen years found me in and out of juvi, and eventually locked up for a stretch that lasted fourteen and a half months. Needless to say, I didn't exactly grow up with ideal conditions for becoming a mentally healthy adult. I knew this, too, but only continued to make matters worse for myself; instead of doing something to make a change, I played the victim and blamed everyone and everything but myself, avoided responsibility, and through it all I didn't care. Every day I felt like my head was in a fog; the lines of reality were so blurry that I couldn't make out what I should or shouldn't do.

If there's one thing I'm grateful for, it's that my depression wasn't particularly known while I was growing up. Truthfully, I didn't even know what to call it until recent years; I just knew I felt like shit all the time. Aside from a few incidents that raised concern, I have little doubt that I may have been institutionalized had I been vocal about the truth regarding what was really going on in my mind. I knew this to a degree, and so like many people with whacked-out minds, I was left to fend for myself (mentally speaking, that is). Now I'm not saying that I was utterly insane, or that I should have been institutionalized, but it certainly could have happened. I often wonder why God didn't allow it to happen, but always find myself grateful that it didn't; I've met people who were, heard stories of atrocious things that had happened in such places, and would thus never wish institutionalization upon anybody with mental health issues.

I was seventeen when I tried to kill myself. If there's one thing I remember, it's that the blade was cold, and that it only stung for a moment; once the adrenaline kicked in, I couldn't feel anything. I watched the blood flow and then stop, so I jammed the blade deep into the cut and flicked it outward, watching the gash get wider and wider until the blood started flowing again. I can't honestly say whether I actually cut a vein (because frankly I'm no expert when it comes to medical things like how fast blood flows when you cut a vein), but I remember starting to feel weak and tired after a little while; despite the adrenaline that masked the pain, I just wanted to fall asleep. Nevertheless, I only found myself angry that it didn't work. I've talked about this, before, so that's not what I want to focus on; besides, the scars have faded some over time.

What I do want to focus on is this: I continued to cut myself, intermittently, up until I was 20. I've often told people that I stopped cutting after my suicide attempt, but that's not the truth. The last time I cut myself was during my first year of bible college. One night, almost on a whim, I decided to personally hand my box cutter over to the men's residence director and explain why I was handing it to him. But hold your applause; I only stopped cutting because I was afraid of getting expelled and being left alone halfway across the country with no home to go back to. However, I handed the blade to him personally instead of simply discarding it because I wanted somebody to know that I wasn't okay. And this is where I get to the point of all this talk about self-harm: despite being depressed, I longed for a sense of home, for companionship, and for somebody to know.

This longing is a thread that I can see playing out all through my childhood, teenage years, and very early adulthood. I would be lying if I didn't say that it's still a present thread in my life and in my thinking. Yet the very nature of depression makes it difficult to reach out for help. As a teen, I feared that I would only get in trouble if I asked for more help; I was already under pretty close supervision as it was, and I wasn't about to put myself in a situation that would require even closer supervision. Sure, I had a counselor (who I was required to see), but I didn't even talk to him; either my dad was sitting in on the session, or I feared he (or my probation supervisor) would find out nonetheless. When you're depressed, your first thought isn't that people care about you; neither is it your second, third, fourth, fifth, hundredth, thousandth, or millionth thought (if your mind operates as fast as mine does). I found myself rationalizing to the point that I was convinced that nobody really liked me, and that my isolation was my own fault for being so undesirable.

Yet during all of it I had things that I wanted to do, things that I would become passionate about (even if I lost interest after a while), things that kept my hands busy. As I was generally alone a lot (despite being closely supervised), I found myself absorbed in things that would offer my mind something to focus on, a safe escape from reality. If anything, it offered short-lived blips of happiness that speckled my reality like stars in the night sky. But the problem is that it was always short-lived; I couldn't find a lasting solution to my depression. No hobby that I wrapped myself in could satisfy me. There was no word that could soothe, no blade that could cut deep enough, no pill that could fix, no patch that wouldn't shrink and rip off.

It was as though God wired me as an INFJ with depression (or allowed it to happen) so that only He could satisfy me. It may sound weird (even preposterous to some), but it's how I think nonetheless. Yet I've been told by well-meaning Christians over and over that "if you just have faith, God will set you free from your depression." Little did they know that their words damaged more than they healed; it left me envious of those who seemed to get better and made me question my faith and whether God loved me. I ask: what's so difficult about supposing that God allows some to be depressed so that His glory could be displayed in their lives? Two stories come to mind. The first is John 9; the story of the man born blind, whom Jesus healed. If you haven't read it, go read it now and then come back to this. Jesus said he was born blind so that God's glory could be displayed in Him. The second is 2 Corinthians 12, where Paul prayed and prayed for God to remove "a thorn in his flesh," to which God simply replied, "My grace is sufficient for you."

Perhaps I'm wrong, but I think that depression and other mental health issues are simply an effect of what sin did to this world (i.e. that depression is simply "part of this fallen world," as some would say). I don't think being depressed makes a person any less lovable or desirable, and I don't think that my relationship with God is dependent upon whether or not I am depressed. Though I used to believe the opposite (that if I didn't "feel" God close to me, He wasn't there), I want to encourage you that you're not alone, and God loves you; God has allowed you to be the way you are for a reason. Don't doubt for a moment that He has your best interest at heart. Even if it's dark, He is there. This isn't some sort of sympathetic attempt to paint a silver lining, but the truth: Jesus suffered just as we do. He understands our pain and our struggles. Even if it's dark, He's right there with you, and you're never alone. 


---

Part two of this series is coming soon. Keep an eye open.

Roote Ferty Fer (Vlog)

End of Semester (again)

I've figured since the semester has ended and I'm now left with a decently open summer to work and relax and think, I may as well resume blogging (it's been more than two weeks since my last entry).

The busy nature of the end of the semester made it as such that I wasn't adequately able to clear my head and think straight. Struggling to overcome the academic hardship I had brought upon myself through procrastination, catching up on late assignments, submitting papers at the last minute, and pleading for extra time definitely left its mark on this semester (and not in a good way). Most of the classes I was taking were actually quite easy, so easy that I brushed them aside to return to the mires of introspection and wrap myself once more in the familiar cold of depression. This has been a particularly difficult year for me, trying to pick up the pieces of myself in the aftermath of the manifested danger of investing too heavily in one person while trying to decide where I really stood in relation to God and faith. The most difficult portion, definitively, was realizing that the faith I professed I did not live out; that is, while I claimed to believe God was sufficient, my actions clearly showed that I did not.

Of course, the implications of such double-mindedness are far-reaching. I firmly hold that life must be considered holistically (and that compartmentalization simply does not work), so to give you a further glimpse into how my mind and thinking work, here is how I understood the implications of my own hypocrisy. If I claimed that God loves people, and God does not show partiality, then I had to accept that He loved me. But to reject it meant that I had to reject that He loved other people. All of the time and energy I had previously invested in trying to show people their worth before the Creator of the universe was thus being poured down the drain, so to speak; it was impossible for me to truly believe their worth while I loved some but hated others. It was further impossible (if there is such a thing as more than impossible) for me to believe their worth if I was trying to drag them into sin with me. And yet all the time I had spent (intermittently) in ministry went to nothing if I didn't truly have the love of God in me (by definition of what the Word says and what my actions showed, I did not have the love of God in me). I actually wrote a song about the struggle between theoretical faith and practical doubt, and have played it several times for people who only thought it was simply meant to be poetry.

And here I wonder if I have the love of God in me even now; there are people who I cannot stomach to be around, people who I find myself speaking negatively of in secret, people who I deliberately avoid and otherwise blatantly ignore for the sole purpose of not having to subject myself to their mindless or otherwise irritating babble. I refuse to open myself up to people simply out of preemptive judgments I've made regarding their ability to comprehend anything in enough depth to make my talking to them at least worthwhile; often, I find myself feeling that I'm better off saving my breath. Conversely, I frequently withhold from posting an actual status update (versus simply sharing a link) on Facebook because I believe that nobody would even care and that I'm thus better off not even bothering to move my fingers across the keyboard to type the words. 

I didn't want to share this before, mostly because of how personal and immediate it was, but depression hit me harder this year than it ever had before. As the days drug on and on, the calendar began to blur together and some nights I found myself sitting catatonic in my room, unable to even move my thumbs to text someone for help, let alone open my mouth to talk to them had they actually arrived. Some nights, it was a struggle just to stay standing up in the shower and not collapse involuntarily. I numbed out harder than ever. Ascend the Hill sums up the feeling: "Someone make sense of this, I beg you now. Where is grace in this? Where is love in this? Our time is running out. This ruined city longs for the vengeance of our God, but we can't see 'cause ashes fill us all. Broken bones, they still feel numb; oh, the mourning had begun. Corrupting ourselves, God save us now." Being depressed in the midst of people who are full of joy is a bit of a two-edged sword; on the one hand, it's encouraging to be around people who try to lift me up. On the other hand, it's disheartening to see other people overcome something like depression to live lives full of joy while I still feel stuck in this pit. Eventually, even those who promise to stick around move on to more lively friends (save one, a person for whom I cannot express how much I am grateful for). 

Nonetheless, what is easily the most important moment of the year came about roughly a month ago. In August/September, I decided to ignore Christianity and effectively left it behind to pursue my own selfishness, despite having returned to bible college. In December, after a dear friend pleaded with me to at least try to hold on, I decided not to denounce the faith, but at least to ride things out for a while so I could have time to riddle some things out. And then, last month, I found myself utterly face-to-face with the reality of Jesus (and of course the far-reaching implications of such), and knew I finally had to get off the fence and make a decision: either leave my selfishness behind and return to Jesus, or completely harden my heart, depart the faith, leave Central, and allow my selfishness to rule me for the rest of my life.

I wasn't going to make a decision willy-nilly, but I also wasn't going to automatically rule one way or the other out of fear. It wasn't until someone (I honestly can't remember who) reminded me of the love of Christ and how real it actually is that I made up my mind to return to faith and follow Jesus. I'm actually going to church again.

Last Sunday I went to a music store with a friend and played an electric guitar for only the second time since I think January of 2014. The first time was at the music store last fall, and I hated it; playing brought about a swell of emotional memories that I couldn't handle. I actually had to put it down and walk out of the store. This time around, things were different. I picked up a 7-string and played a little bit of Invisible Year (if you've listened to Invisible, you've heard the original concept and should at least have an idea), and to my surprise, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long, long time: passion. I felt alive, like I was falling in love. My hands remembered the notes and the structure of the song better than my mind did, and I was surprised to hear myself playing the full spectrum of rhythm and lead simultaneously and without struggle. It was as though my body had been waiting for the familiar feel of a 7-string guitar neck so it could resume its old forte. I think that after I move in December, if I end up where I think I might, I'll have to start saving to get an electric and amp for the studio. 

Speaking of the studio, I've officially kicked off "project Toaster." To give you a little insight, "The Toaster" is actually a name I've given to a computer I'll be building sometime this fall specifically for audio production and video editing. Although I did purchase the first part for it already, it could be a while before I buy other parts. This comes for a couple reasons; first, most of the parts are very expensive and my bank account couldn't handle trying to purchase them all at once, and second, I'm only buying parts as I find excellent deals on them. In other words, I'm shopping for parts as I can afford them, and buying only when the market is just right. That said, here is a list of parts that will be going into it. Certain parts, like drives (both solid state drives and hard disk drives) are naturally bound by the the speed of technological advancement to get cheaper as time goes on, so I won't be buying those until much closer to the build date. Other parts, like the CPU (processor), motherboard, and case, won't be getting any cheaper for at least a couple years, and I'll have to watch the prices daily to make sure I catch them at just the right time. Why monitor the market so closely? Simply put, to stay close to my budget; if I purchased all of the parts at full price, I would be paying well over $1700 to build this thing; I would very much like to see how close to $1500 I can push it down. 

And speaking of close, it is getting close to midnight, so I must get some sleep. I thought I would come up with some super cool conclusion to this post, but I suppose not. At least I'm blogging, huh?

[Music] I Made A Thing

Technically, I finished a thing.

September 23, 2012. That's the date of creation stamped on the project file for the original concept for this song. A broken heart and a free afternoon found me sitting in my dorm room recording guitar tracks at random. A few hours later, I had the makings of what could become a fairly decent song. What I didn't know is how much that song would mean to me down the road. I don't really have recorded anywhere the full song that this concept eventually turned into, but I did find a video (I don't remember where it is) of me playing a good chunk of it. If I still had electric guitar equipment, I would gladly re-record and actually flesh out the whole concept "Invisible Year". Perhaps someday.

Anyway, today (or yesterday, I can't particularly remember) I dug up the project file for this song and looked at it, mostly for my own amusement. I realized the guitar tracks were pretty spot on to the metronome track, and realized that I now have software with which I can map out virtual instruments. So, I opened up my copy of Ignite by Air, mapped out a bass line, played with the instrument parameters until I found a sound I halfway liked, exported it to a .wav, and imported it into the original project. Well, I couldn't stop there, so I also mapped out a rough drum idea. Then I erased it, created several tracks, and mapped out each individual drum element  some separately. From there, I exported each element as its own .wav, imported those tracks into the project, did some general mixing work (EQ, reverb, levels, etc.) on those tracks, did a little more work on the original guitar tracks, mixed it all together, and mastered it out. 

I've been listening to it on repeat all night. 

It's strange to think of where I was at when I first recorded the guitar tracks vs. where I'm at now, and how much I (and times in general) have changed. It's almost surreal to think that I actually finished this thing (for what it was originally). Now I really want to map out the full thing (or as much as I can remember of it). Maybe I'll downtune my acoustic and just map it out for myself, so I don't lose it. Hey, a musician's gotta do what a musician's gotta do.

There Goes the Savings... Whatever

I Don't Get It?

To preface: I do not mean any of this in a prideful manner. It is simply a vent.

Right now, I'm a senior in my counseling program. I take 5 classes every semester. I work 15-20 hours a week at 2 jobs, and am also in an internship. Since the fall of 2013, I've hosted monthly open mic events on campus (taking this semester off, but planning to start it back up again in the fall). During my off time, I enjoy making music and videos, disc golf, writing this blog, and am also a moderator on an internet forum. You can say I live a "full" life (or a busy one at least). And now here's where I get really confused.

You see, my two jobs are both on campus. One is in I.T., where I'm the only student worker and I perform an ever-changing plethora of duties. That job I started in August. The other job is in the Cafeteria, where I started in March of 2013. Again, there, I've performed various tasks. I've played the role of cashier, buffet runner, and the most frequent, dishwasher. On Saturdays I mostly work alone and am expected to perform all tasks in the dishroom within a certain time window, while keeping the place (and myself) clean. I do this well.

Here is where I get confused, however. The cafeteria is notorious for having student workers who only work six to eight hours a week total, and these people tend to complain that they can't work that many hours in a week. Not all of them, of course; the ones who don't are typically the ones who actually do their jobs well, too. But the ones who do are continually trying to slim back their hours, or find ways to shortcut their work so they can leave early. Then the rest of us have to pick up their slack. Whatever. Call it job security.

But there's something I don't understand.

Why would someone get a job and then complain about having to work that job? In a time where jobs can be hard to come by and beyond competitive to get hired for, I'm grateful for mine, and any hours I get to work I cherish. Are there days where I don't like it? Of course. There are always going to be frustrating days at work. Last Saturday was one of those in the dish room. But I worked hard and got through it, and am looking forward to working this Saturday. I think it's just a matter of attitude.

Sure, I can't do always all of the things I want because of my work schedule. It's difficult to go visit someone for a weekend when I work most of Saturday and, of course, that's the one day that nobody wants to cover a shift on. I'm planning to go visit a friend the first weekend of May and am probably going to have to start looking next week for someone to cover the shift. Of course, I'm also picky who I ask to cover my shifts (I want to make sure whoever covers it is competent), but that's neither here nor there.

Maybe some people just haven't experienced adulthood yet.

Being 18 doesn't necessarily make a person prepared for adulthood. I will admit that I didn't start my undergrad until I was 20, and the couple years before that I paid rent (my dad used a clever tactic to get me to move out called "make it more expensive to live here than to get an apartment.) A lot of people here came straight out of high school and largely have financial help from home. Some of them have yet to experience actually having to pay for something beyond food or fuel. But then, wouldn't college be a good time for parents to ween their kids off of that financial support and get them ready to be on their own? Maybe I just grew up in a different world.

A Piece of Your Love

Tonight I recorded a concept for a new song. It's one of those that came from something I had scribbled in my journal long ago and never bothered to finish. Originally designed to be a spoken word, I decided to modify the original idea, flesh it out, and turn it into a song. Video included. Interestingly, due to the physical setup of how I ran everything, this is also how I'd sound if I were to play for people online, whether it be Skype, Chatroulette, Google Hangout, or even using a live streaming service. If I can get that static noise out of things, I could flesh out my sound more and have something halfway professional sounding.


WARNING: LOW QUALITY




This song is one of those that, while I definitely plan to put it on my EP, I hope my old man never hears it (obviously, it's about him). I've pretty well accepted (or at least concluded) that he's beyond any ability to really understand anything I try to say, so even if he did hear it, I strongly doubt it would have any effect on him. If anything, it's therapeutic for me to be able to sing it.

I've talked about him a little before (in previous blog posts) but I've never gone into much detail about my (good as non-existent) relationship with him. And this isn't to put all of my stock in MBTI (trust me, I could care less what someone's personality type is), the fact that he's an ESTJ and I'm an INFJ, combined with the reality that those two temperaments have the most difficulty getting along (the INFJ is a deep thinker with deep-seated emotions and wants to be known and loved,  while the ESTJ just wants things to run in a way that is manageable, and doesn't understand or have patience for the feelings of others) has helped me to at least say this: I've done what I can, and I do what I can, and I will continue to do what I can, but I know there's not much I can do about the detachment between us other than accept that I'll never be able to have a relationship with him that isn't shallow at best.

I'm sure I'll write little tidbits about him here and there in other posts as I go along. I absolutely do not plan to write a full-blown entry about him. As much as he can be an absolute douchebag, he's my dad and for some reason I have never been able to reconcile (with the reality of what emotionally abusive relationships are and what they can do to people who don't outright leave them), I love him. That said, if you ever really want to get a picture of our relationship, just read through all of my posts from the beginning until now, and then keep up after that. If you're able to read between the lines, you'll figure it out.

Wrench

Today's one of those days where nothing seems to add up and I have an unrelenting hunch that something is not right. Something feels off, and I can't figure out what it is. It bothers me to no end, too; I've had this feeling in my gut ever since I woke up this morning, and I don't know why. What bothers me the most is not know what it is. I know that it means something, but what? What is my intuition trying to tell me? Could I simply be forgetting something? Double-scheduling, perhaps? Is something due today that I've forgotten about? Or could it be something more serious, grave perhaps? I just don't know, and I've been bothered all day because of it.

It doesn't help that the semester is starting to wind down and I'm still in catch-up mode. I've prioritized my catching up (focus on current assignments first to keep those grades up, since I have grading deals already locked in place for late work). Maybe it's just academic stress & pre-career anxiety? Nah, that can't be it. That's been subtly there in my subconscious mind. This feeling is too strong to simply be stress. It's too prominent. It's not just gently tugging at my mind, it's screaming, clawing, and fighting to come into the light. Or maybe, maybe, it's the other way around. Maybe it's something that God is dragging, clawing, kicking, and screaming, into the light.

Light.

Perhaps what I need is to actually spend time with God. I haven't done that this semester, and I think I've only been to church maybe six or seven times since August. I haven't really touched a bible except for academic work (though what I do read, I mull over for quite a while). I feel like there's a war inside my heart; I've finally decided which side to take, and now that I've decided that I'm going to hold fast, the other side doesn't want to have it that way. Sin doesn't like to let go. There's comfort in the dark; depression makes me tired, and it's not easy to sleep with the lights on. Understand my double meaning (if you don't understand by now that I often speak in double meanings, then you've really missed a lot of what I try to say). 

Maybe what's going on isn't either of the things I mentioned two paragraphs ago. Maybe now that light has been flicked on, it's clawing at the light switch, trying to turn it back off so that it won't be exposed for what it is. Because sin doesn't like to be seen for what it is: ugly, vile, parasitic, undesirable, and toxic in the grand scheme of eternity. There's a reason why addictions are often kept secret, and why secrets are so addictive. Sin likes to hide in the dark. 

And of course, I'm not some pinnacle of holiness, or even someone (or something) I'd want anybody to look up to. I'm a pretty fucked up dude. I've got just as many problems as anyone else. And it's so easy for me to fall into a pit of self-loathing, and to starve myself from the only source of life and energy that can sustain me. But I know that if what I've learned in bible college is true, it's that Jesus is the only source of living water, and that the living water he offers will satisfy my every hunger and quench my every thirst. "He who comes to me will not thirst." He wants to be my satisfaction. 

And now we come back to the wrench in my gut. Perhaps in the writing of this entry, I've sorted myself through to what it is and what it's about, and I think I've figured it out because it's easing up. So if this (what I've just spent the last several paragraphs writing about) is right, then I know what I need to do. Not to make the wrench go away, but because I know about Jesus, I believe what He says about himself, and I know the implications of such.

But ah, it's just a wrench. I probably just need to eat something.

Ugh

As of recent, I haven't been very talkative, either online or IRL. The truth is, I'm just tired and want some space. I promise it's not depression-related (at least, I really hope it's not), but all I want to do as of recent is disc golf and sleep. What that tells me is that I'm sick of sitting inside and want to get out and enjoy the weather while it's enjoyable. It also tells me that I'm too busy and need to lighten up a bit on the things that I can lighten up on (social life, internet, etc.), so that I can more feasibly take care of the things that I need to take care of (work, academics, etc.) without becoming overly stressed like I'm so prone to. Also, the winter makes me restless and jittery, wanting to get out but not having much to do. Then by the time summer rolls around I've worn myself out and all I want to do is relax. 

I'm powering through the end of this semester with a vengeance. During the entirety of my collegiate career, I've never been this far behind on anything. I'm scrambling to catch up on old assignments while trying to remember to do current assignments. Shame on me for procrastinating for so long. Moving off campus has been refreshing in regard to being able to actually sleeping at night, but more challenging than I had expected in regard to staying motivated to keep on top of my academics. Additionally, this is my second to last semester, so I know by this point that any hope of raising my GPA the .08 points necessary to earn that shiny gold honors cord has already gone out the window. If anything, I just want to keep myself above a 3.3 by the time I graduate. If what the graduate advisers at Stout told me is true, then as long as I stay between a 3.0 and a 3.5, I should be golden for getting into grad school. 

Speaking of grad school and graduating and the end of my undergrad and things with the word "grad" in them, I have no fucking clue what I'm going to do with my life when I graduate in December. Odds are, I'll wind up back in Wisconsin, but doing what? There are a few stressful things about the prospect of graduating. First, the excitement of finishing school is only making it more tempting to slack off. Second, since I'm a student worker, my current employment will end as soon as I walk across the stage and receive my diploma. Third, I know that no matter where I end up, for the sake of my mental health, there's no way I can let myself end up back at my dad's house. So what does this mean? Well, I need to bust ass and get my academic work done. Finish strong, right? But on top of that, I also have to find myself a job to go into after I graduate. I'm starting to look into options for that now, because I don't want to find myself between a rock and a hard place, a diploma in one hand and an empty wallet in the other.

Of course, there's also the pressure of wanting to find work that will actually be something meaningful to what I want to do in life: helping people. In particular, I would like to get a job in which I would be working with juvenile delinquents. Of course, there's not much in that area I can do with a bachelor's that will earn a sizable income, but it could be just enough to get me by financially while gaining experience that will help me when it comes time to start grad school. And speaking of grad school, I don't even know if I want to start in the fall of 2016 or if I want to wait until 2017 or even 2018. There's just no real knowing at this point. Lincoln Hills (the juvi I spent over a year of my teenage life in) is almost continuously hiring for youth counselors, and I've heard that my past experience as an inmate there could be greatly beneficial to the kids having someone they can relate to and who can relate to them. With any luck, this could be my foot in the door to a decent career doing something actually meaningful.

On a lesser note... I am an impulsive spender. By impulsive, I mean I set out on Friday to spend maybe $100-130 on two pairs of shoes, and ended up spending $375ish on two pairs of shoes, Starbucks, Chipotle, jeans, and here comes the big kicker, studio monitors. Of course, I'm fairly okay with the monitors; they'd be somewhere between $400 and $600 new, and I picked them up used for $180 at Music Go Round. There's nothing wrong with them, so far as I can tell, and they sound phenomenal (and look right at home) here in the studio. See?

You can kind of see in this picture, but I've also set up the work space to have the computer placed under the desk, with a separate monitor, keyboard, and mouse up top, so that I can help eliminate some of the computer noise that likes to bleed its way into my recordings. I still need to find a way to really block out that space under the desk while recording so the computer is better isolated, but that'll have to wait a couple weeks until I can finish these last couple songs for class and I'm ready to start actually recording everything.

Anyway, I need to tuck this away so I can go take care of some things that are calling my attention, like homework and an appointment (that internship life, yo). So, until later.

Re-Vamped!

Yesterday, my roommate and I revamped our music room. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Before:

We had some equipment. We even had a big stack of acoustic foam panels (40 square feet of it) in the upstairs bedroom waiting to go up. But the room was a logistical nightmare, a deathtrap zone, a catastrophic natural disaster waiting to happen. We didn't have a proper desk but were just using a couple TV trays (which roommate number 3 wanted to be put back on the rack in the living room). So we gutted the room, planned a new layout, cleaned up, and affixed the foam to cardboard panels which were hung on the walls (so that they can come down later when I move out, since they're actually mine). Then, we acquired an old retail display platform from our landlord (which we set on top of a pair of Peavey PV115 PA mains) to serve as our work station. Found a psychedelic blue cloth and put it over the window, and we were done!

The result:

As for now, the space functions and sounds much better than before. There is less acoustic reflection off the walls. I may order a little more foam to attach to the ceiling at certain points, and also so we can make a mic isolation shield for vocals, and we need to affix the corner foam to, well, the corners, but as for now I'm remarkably pleased with how well it turned out.

So what's the next step (after the few things I mentioned)? Well, some rack equipment that I want to acquire include a 2-channel tube mic preamp, noisegate, and EQ. Unfortunately, that means another $1000-1200, which I simply don't have at the moment. But, when I do purchase said items, it will probably be in the order of gate, preamp, and then EQ. I also want to upgrade my free Pro Tools Express to Pro Tools 11. That will be another $200, but it's worth it for beat detective and auto tune. I also got the new SoundToys Little Alter Boy plugin. Luckily, I found the website during a light traffic period and was able to download it during the "free before April 1st" window. As for now, I'm only going to record things for school (because academics, and because the semester is winding down and I'm running out of time).

Anyway, speaking of academics, I should get back to some homework. Peace out.

Oh, and if you want a cool 360 panorama of the room, click here. Maybe I need to put a link to my Flikr in my new social media launch page, epitome of toast?

It's here!

This is just a very quick update to let you know that Epitome of Toast is now live! Yes, it's pretty basic. However,the purpose of it is to simply serve as a portal to my social media.  I'm hoping to keep it that way (though, I do need to continue working on it). 

New homepage coming!

It may not seem like much to y'all, but I have some super-cool-to-me news to share. Today, I purchased the domain "epitomeoftoast.com" from Google. For now, it's just set up to forward to my blog. However, I will (hopefully soon) be setting up a homepage on the domain that will contain social media links to my pages (Facebook, Blogger, Youtube, Soundcloud, etc.) Anyway, this is simply an experiment, to see if this is something I want to do long-term.

Also, unrelated, more vlogs are coming... maybe.

Quickie

Waterloo Part 2!

Weekend, Weekend

I know it's only Thursday, but my weekend stars in approximately 2 1/2 hours. Plans for tonight and for Saturday morning have been confirmed and I'm leaving immediately after my exam (which should be relatively simple) at 3:20. My main question is: what of the tentative plans for tomorrow night? It's what I'm looking forward to the most in the next couple days, so I'm hoping it happens, but I'm entirely uncertain at this point. Hopefully I'll find a place to stay tonight because tomorrow I'd like to take my car in for an alignment, and I'd like to shower in the morning since I'm planning to get a haircut.

Anyway, I feel pretty accomplished today because I managed to start a load of laundry this morning, dry it over lunch, put it all away, and pack for the trip. I wasn't sure if I wanted to take recording equipment with me or not, as I may have much of the weekend with nothing going on, but I think that leaving the recording equipment here will be a perfect (and maybe necessary) excuse to focus on academic work while I'm away. And speaking of academic work, I knocked out one assignment this morning in class (to be fair, I forgot that it was due), and managed to knock out study notes for my exam this afternoon. All of that with maybe just a couple small sips of coffee. I honestly think it was the pressure of the "oh crap I'm leaving this afternoon" deadline.

Anyway, I've got 25 minutes until my exam, so I'm going to make sure I've got this stuff down. I'm sure I'll be updating throughout the weekend. Maybe.

We We We So Excited

The rest of my stuff came on Saturday, and I'm pretty excited about to start working with it all. Though, I must admit, I'm a little nervous about the learning curve there will be with adapting to a new recording software. But, I know Pro Tools is said to be better than Audacity in every way (and of course I already agree), but it's still a little nerve-wracking nonetheless. Perhaps I should consider playing with it some today so that I can at least have an idea of what it will be life using it tomorrow night to record the live sound at open mic night (and how to work it in the first place). Alas, I'm on a schedule. But then again, my schedule has been skewed already this semester. I have an indefinite extension on a paper in one class and a project in another; perhaps the only academic thing I need to concern myself with today is studying for a test that I have tomorrow morning. That could allow me time to learn at least a few basics with Pro Tools before I go to use it tomorrow night.

Anyway, what's remarkable is that for what all you see here (and what you don't see here yet) I only spent $735. That's right... $735. Here's the breakdown of the cost:

M-Audio M-Track Quad (w/ Pro Tools Express): $199 (on sale)
Rode NT1a vocal mic (w/ shock mount, pop shield, and cable): $229
Audio Technica Pro 37 instrument mic: $108
Mogami Silver 25ft XLR cable: $30 (x2, so $60, plus shipping)
On Stage Stands mic boom stand: $25 (x2, so $50)
40ft sq of acoustic treatment foam: $85 shipped

Okay, so $735 is a lot of money. It was painful to spend, but for a starter setup it really was a pretty great deal. I'm journaling up a "gear wish list" of items I'd like to see in my future studio setup, but for now I'm more than pleased with this.

Bitter Jealousy

Today I must confess something. 

I have found myself, for the longest time, bitterly jealous of "cradle Christians"; people who grew up in Christian families, Christian homes, going to church, learning about scripture and Jesus, and having a beautiful, almost naive faith that seems unencumbered by things that so easily weigh me down. I scoffed at many of my bible college peers simply because I would give up my whole life to have what they seemed to take for granted: whole families, Christian parents, solid spiritual support networks, a church to call home, and a deeply rooted faith. I hated them.

If that's you reading this, I'm sorry.

And then I get jealous; oh, do I get jealous. Not that I would ever wish calamity on someone like that... If anything, I wish they could see their situation through my eyes; perhaps they might appreciate it more. But I get so jealous of them, because things that seem to come easy to them just don't come easily to me. Some things which they have had ingrained into their minds since an early age I am just recently coming to grips with and am trying so hard to put into practice. I feel like an acorn sitting on the ground next to an oak tree, feeling so small and intimidated, trying to find a place to grow roots without disturbing the space that they have clearly been occupying so long before I came around.

Maybe some seeds aren't meant to grow.

As an "outsider welcomed in," I find it incredibly difficult to fit in to the bible college social atmosphere even after 3 1/2 years. I feel like an awkward bud in a field of flowers. Instead of embracing the process, I became jealous. I grew cold. I envied every person around me for one reason or another. Perhaps I wished I could have their kindness, or their social charisma, or their musical ability, or their money, or their seemingly naive willingness to submit to authority. But the people I am most frequently jealous of are those who seem to be deeply and immovably rooted in the faith. I often find myself wanting more than anything to be able to say something that I will never be able to say: "I am so grateful that I grew up with an example of faith and love." Maybe I'm just too scarred to stand among models.

But I failed to address my own disorder. Instead of watering my own lawn, I grew increasingly jealous of my neighbor's grass. Instead of accepting that my brokenness would require a long and careful process of God putting me back together, I chose instead to sit in pieces, staring at others who were whole and wishing I could be like them. Sure, part of it is depression, but that's no excuse. If creator-of-the-universe God could do all the amazing things shown in scripture, then my own depression stands no chance. But the biggest problem is that I want to be like everyone else around me. My own talents and abilities never seem to be enough.

I wonder how many of those people I find myself jealous of find themselves jealous of me. It sickens me how much calamity is glamorized. Those who should be bursting with joy and gratitude for the examples of faith they grew up with often find themselves full of discontent, wishing they could have the cavalier story of one who grew up in a context like what I grew up in. And yet I, who should be grateful for how much darkness God overcame to find me, and should be exulting in His glory, and bursting with joy and gratitude and singing praises about how great and powerful He is to save a wretch like me, find myself instead discontented, wishing I never had to go through the things I did, and am still going through.

Maybe I need to just be still and let God do His God thing.

Promoting Math

Last night, I was working with text and images in Adobe Premiere Pro. I was using text overlays at the end of a video. I had inserted and blown up a transparent PNG logo image with additional text as the last overlay, but had to change the font of the rest of the text to match the font in the image. The first three text overlays were 150% font size. But when I resized the PNG overlay in the last bit, I had to use 160% font size to match the image's text. Well this proved to be sloppy and unprofessional looking, so I wanted to fix it, but I wasn't sure how to resize the image and text to match 150% font size that was present in the other title overlays. Then I remember something I learned in high school: algebra. 

The image was scaled to 185% original size.
The font was 160%, but needed to be 150%.
If 160=185, then I needed to figure out what 150 would equal. I just needed to work the numbers a little.

185/160 = 1.15625
1.15625 x 150 = 173.4375
So I resized the image to 174% and the text to 150%, and presto, everything matched.

YEAH, MATH!

Call me a nerd, but I think math is immensely important. I have to use it all the time when I'm working with sound, video, or general I.T. stuff. Perhaps your line of work won't require you to understand algebra, but understanding basic tenets of mathematics is essential in life. Want to know your fuel mileage? Track your miles per tank and gallons per fill. Want to know your cost per mile? Track your cost per tank and miles per tank. Want to be able to project your current spending into the future and re-configure your budget to be able to save a certain amount of money by a certain date, perhaps to buy a plane ticket for travel? Are you in a band and need to figure out how much you can spend on a tour while staying profitable? You need to understand math to do these things.

Props to Marjorie Craemer, one of the few high school teachers I had who legitimately cared about her students and their futures, for devoting her career to teaching math. Partly because of her influence in my life (along with numerous other factors), I really think CCCB needs to incorporate math into its general curriculum. Even if the college can't afford to hire on a part time mathematics professor, at least requiring students to take a course or two at MACC would be better than nothing. If the college wants to train people to work in churches and help those churches to function well, then it needs to train its students in mathematics beyond an elective "personal finance" course. It should include at least one course in basic business management so that people can get an idea of how to work an organization's budget.

Okay. Enough ranting.

/Plug

Birthdays and Bad Days

My birthday was a couple days ago, so I treated myself to something nice. That is, I picked up this new recording interface from Amazon. Saved fifty bucks on it with the sale price, too, and got it for $199. And, as you can see by the box, it comes with Pro Tools Express and Ignite by AIR. Not too bad. The disadvantage to Pro Tools Express is that the two most frequently used plugins aren't available without upgrade to the regular version of the software, but the advantage is that upgrading to Pro Tools 11 is only $200 and allows free upgrade to Pro Tools 12 when it comes out, which is very cost-friendly as compared to buying the full software outright for $900. The rest of my equipment should be coming soon, too. All $535 of it (bringing the total up to $735). My bank account is looking rather sad after taking such a heavy hit, but I'm sincerely hoping that I'll be able to garner some, if small, financial backing to help offset the cost. I also hope to use this in the future to perhaps make a little bit of money recording local artists.

But today, a couple days later, was just... a generally rough day. Actually, I must rephrase. The first half of today was pretty amazing and I was in a fantastic mood after last night. Then I went home from my first shift and... Anyway, the second shift got off to a decent start but for some reason, my mood crashed mid-shift. It could just be tiredness from the headache I was battling today (further reason for my concern about my mental health; I was in a great mood despite a headache), but the crash was sudden and hard. I'm doing a little better now that it's late and I'm mellowed out, but I hate these mood crashes. They're brutal and leave me wondering why this has to continually happen to me. It's nights like tonight that, while I trust that God has a plan and purpose for me in the context of the Kingdom, I can't help but feel a little bitter and discouraged that I have yet to figure out why I am the way I am.

But, recent events (that I may talk about later on, when they're not-so-immediate) have me feeling hopeful that things will be trekking upward. 

I just need to keep on trekking.

Winter's Cold

The winter here seems to be rather cold this year. But the coldest part about it isn't the weather. No matter how cold the winter gets here, it will always be warmer than Wisconsin. So really, it's never that cold. But yet there is a coldness in my heart and a bitter chill in my bones that I cannot shake, but rather is spreading and intensifying by the day. At the end of the day, my emotions crash, leaving me incapable of genuine empathy and simply going through the motions of what I know to do. It is an emptiness that I would never wish upon another.

I become discouraged too easily. Each time I talk with my closest friend, they go on and on about this incredible journey of faith that God has them on, and how much they are growing by the day, and while I am genuinely happy for them, it only makes my own emptiness more apparent. Here I sit in an actually worse spiritual spot than I was when I first met them. But here's what they don't tell you in bible college: spiritual distance is still distance in a relationship. It's true that two cannot be unevenly yoked. It places an awkward strain on our friendship. 

Normally it would be a strain for the friend on the higher ground to stand up, but for me it is more of a strain to not follow them. But every time I get up and try to follow Christ, I fall back down and I begin to feel paralyzed. I used to feel level with them. Now I feel like a burden, like they are now so far above me and I have fallen into their shadow. I know this is inaccurate thinking, but the strain is still there and I can still feel it.

On the one hand, it shows me more and more how much I need to pursue faith, love, and righteousness with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart. On the other hand, it makes me feel so utterly incompetent after all the grace I've received that I actually want to pursue God less. As the picture become clearer (to me, though my friend), these eyes see fire and terror and I become discouraged because I know that only God can save me, yet I feel as though He is uninterested, as though I've reached my grace limit and He has said, "Nah, you're done." The more my friends pursue Jesus, the more saddened I become.

I used to believe that hell was reserved for the afterlife, but I am becoming increasingly convinced that we experience degrees of it here, in this lifetime, dependent upon where we are in relation to the cross of Christ. I say this because what I am feeling literally feels like hell--separation from Christ. And no matter how I long to return to Him, the distance grows colder and colder. If hell feels like being separate from God, then this is hell.