My Love, a Note

My love.

I know it's been a difficult year for us. We've had many changes and challenges at our work. We've mourned and grieved with our dear friends over the passing of loved ones. And the plans we were making for our family were put on hold. Twice.

This wasn't what I had at all anticipated this time last year, when we were going into a new year with so much hope and cheer.

I can't tell you why trouble has met us. I can't pretend to know what lesson (if any) God wants to teach us. I suppose this is where, between human and divine wisdom, the line ends. The only place I know where to start is this: suffering is not unique to the human race, and it is certainly not for those who choose to follow Him. God has given so much goodness to us in our short years together. Like Job, should we say to ourselves to accept only the good, and not the bad?

Changing From Boy to Man

One afternoon, at the church library, a friend and I got into a conversation about what makes a man. Not so much the biology—what makes male different from female—as about what makes man different from boy.

Was it as simple as age? Or as superficial as appearance? Or did it come down to how many attributes he fulfilled as defined by Art of Manliness? Who's to say what the standard is, anyway—are you looking to judge this according to the holy book, or by the stick of our society and culture? (And God knows the latter has given us everything—from toxic hyper-masculinity to passive emasculation—but the answer.)

At one point we rattled off a bunch of people we knew. Look at this guy, he said. He has a steady job, a wife and two kids. He takes good care of his body and fixes things around the house. Agreed—he's a man. This other guy...he's living at home with his parents, struggling to make ends meet. He hasn't figured out a direction for his life. He calls him a boy.

Time, It Was Never Your Ally

Some people ask why I haven't been writing as much as I had in the past. Where are your books and short stories, or the blogs you used to write, they say. Time, I'd say, before my quick rejoinder—"Besides, who reads anymore, am I right?”

To tell you the truth, time was never a good ally. When you’re enjoying yourself, it always runs too quick. When you're using it as an excuse, it's lacking in its alibi. Cleverly dressed-up, surface deep. Because, as the saying goes, you make time for the things you love, and I sure spend a hell of a time scrolling through my Instagram.

If I'm being honest with myself, I was afraid. There's fear in being trite and sounding dumb. There's fear that I'll offend somebody somehow in this "politically correct" world. There's fear even in success. How will I come up with something better than before?

4 Lessons From My First Year of Marriage

4 Lessons From My First Year of Marriage

Two weeks ago, my wife Christy and I celebrated our first anniversary. Isn’t that a trip? It might sound cheesy, but I can honestly remember when I saw her walking down the aisle, glowing in all her beauty. Time goes by swiftly.

I couldn’t have asked for a better first year. I felt like we were able to ease into our shared life as one. Sure, we both have some quirky habits. Like, I don’t know why she likes to hang the toilet paper roll under. She probably wonders why I’m predisposed to strip and leave my pants around the door whenever I walk in from work. All things considered, I’d say we fit each other like the milky flower on a cup of latte.

Mind you, it wasn’t without its ups and downs. Last year saw us through many changes, including moving to a new home (twice), changing churches, starting a new job, and starting a new company, to name a few. Through all of that, I’ve learned to find my constants in a few things: God, my wife, and my community. 

Time Away

Time Away

Last week, I went to Japan. 

I ate like a prince, and witnessed the beauty and wonder of nature. I felt the buzz of the city nightlife. I sat in a lot of trains. And I met some incredible people whom I’ll never forget.

Then I came back.

I flew back on Thanksgiving, and went straight from rolls of nigiri to turkey and mashed potatoes.

Days after, with the tryptophan and jet lag waning, I’m still left with this heavy feeling. It’s more like a deep impression.