Yup. It’s been a while. But I did warn you, so you shouldn’t be surprised.

Quite a lot has happened:

After being back from the Philippines for a week and some change, I was sent there again, but this time for a whole month. Upon my re-return, I went on a four day backpacking trip in Yosemite with my sister and a friend. Now that I’m back at work again, we’ve got a crazy schedule because of a really important project that I’ll probably talk more about later. Also, while all that was going on, LOST concluded their final season. And some other things happened too; like a giant hole opening up in the earth, a 13 year old reaching the top of Everest, and the World Cup kicking off (yes, it’s a pun).

So there you have it, my life and some world events in an eggshell.

I enjoy reading stories about rites of passage. There’s something fulfilling about a person leaving behind the safety they’ve known, facing a challenging personal quest and triumphantly returning as a respected member of society. They have faced danger, survived the experience, been changed by it and as a result have crossed over the threshold into adulthood. Why are these stories so cathartic? Perhaps because our society doesn’t have any definite rites of passage. Learning to drive, getting a job, buying a house, getting married, and raising children can all be important steps in our lives, but do this things transform us into men or women? True, getting lost in the woods, searching for an animal companion, leaping face first from a tower, or hanging from hooks embedded in the skin all seem like pretty strange ways to prove someone has reached that certain level of maturity. Still, there was at least a clear way to do so. Such methods don’t make sense to us anymore, but I wonder if we really are missing out on something those practices were meant to accomplish.

In the end, I think a lot of us simply prefer stagnation. We don’t want to leave the comforts of childhood to face real danger on our own. We don’t want to prove ourselves because it’s too much effort. We don’t want to be tested in case we discover that we’re failures, even though by not trying we’ve automatically become so. I find myself tempted to fall into the Peter Pan syndrome, not wanting to grow up, face difficulties, make sacrifices, and accept responsibility. I’m not saying we shouldn’t find joy in the little things of life. I truly admire those who find satisfaction in simplicity and I hope to follow their patterns. We should be thankful in all circumstances. But I must be on guard not to find contentment in the mundane. Have I resolved to build sandcastles on the shores of experience when an entire ocean awaits for me to explore? Am I so afraid of leaving behind what is comfortable that I’ve chosen a life of spiritual paralysis? These are things I must ask myself.

Thankfully, God tests us, whether we like it or not. I often remind myself that everything is a test. In a rather extreme example, God had Abraham prove his faithfulness by offering the one thing he cared about most, his only son. And not just any only son, but the one God had promised Abraham even though he and his wife we far beyond child-bearing years. Sure, God already knew the outcome beforehand, but I wonder what effect the experience had on Abraham and his son Isaac (who, I believe, was a young man at that point). And what an encouragement that story is to us now. Unlike many tribal rites of passage, God’s method is not a one-shot deal where failure is irreversible. Instead, we are constantly being tested. Testing is a purification process, comparable to the way gold or silver are refined through fire. Remarkably, God can work even through our failures. So I hope that I will face the next challenge willingly, seeing it as an opportunity for growth, knowing that, while it may seem terrifying, the outcome far outweighs the deceptive comforts of just giving up.

I’ve heard a few people tell me, “If I weren’t a Christian, I’d be a _____.” They fill in the blank with such things as naturalist, atheist, humanist, etc. Let’s get this straight, I’m not writing this to condemn anyone. What right do I have to do so? None. And for those who are not Christians, I don’t expect them to understand or agree with me. However, I’ve often found that such statements are made with an ever so slight sense of longing. Though I’m sure they’d deny it and it’s likely they are being honest, it seems as if they are really saying, “Sometimes I wish I weren’t a Christian so I could be a _____.” But when I’m in my right mind thinking about it, my own response is (or ought to be), “If I weren’t a Christian, I’d be dead.”

For me, there is no life outside of Christ. Without Christ, I’d quite possibly be physically deceased and would undoubtedly be spiritually and morally lifeless. And I don’t mean lifeless as in what happens after something has lived for a time, but as in having never once lived, a complete absence of even the faintest trace of life. Non-life.

Am I a better person for thinking this? Of course not. I am just as quick to give in to worldly thought and worldly living as the average Christ-follower, indeed, even more so. I’m outrageously susceptible to sin and am constantly underestimating its terrible power and influence in my own life. Nevertheless, when it comes to finding real appeal from adopting other worldviews, I simply cannot. I see no hope outside of Christ. I agree with Peter in John 6:68 when he replies to Jesus, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” There is nowhere else to turn, nothing else that makes sense to me, no one else who offers an honest, practical, powerful, and reasonable solution to the problems of the human condition. I find no joy, no comfort, no meaning save that which comes from the death and resurrection of Christ. Without it I am forever lost; a creature most pitiable, doomed to roam in futility until its day of ultimate nonexistence. But in Christ I have life; eternal, glorious, victorious, abundant life! May it ever be so.

Thoughts flee like fish. They seem so beautiful when one swims near me, but when I reach in to grab and pull them to the surface, refractions of memory distort my vision and they scatter. It takes a concerted effort, a serious determination on my part to actually write something worth reading.

I’ve been thinking about writing a lot. It’s something I want to do, something I need to do. This might mean that I’ll stop posting here for a while, save the occasional “this is what’s happening in my life” posts. Then again, it could mean I’ll be writing more posts. Hard to tell. I’ve been saying it for a long time, but I really, really need to write. Here’s a few random, scattered thoughts that I’ve brought up before they slipped out of my hands back into the watery depths.

I visited some mud caves in Ocotillo with a few friends on Saturday. They were inspiring (the caves I mean, though the friends weren’t half bad either). I’d really like to do more cave exploring in the future. It’s a lot of fun and I feel that I am at a place where my personal fitness would not be a hindrance to exploring the more frequented caves. Plus, it’s just fun to say that I’m going out spelunking.

I celebrated my sister’s birthday and it was a good reminder of how thankful I am for her, and, as a matter of fact, for all my family.

After purposefully putting it off for a long time, I did a quick read-through of my High School Senior Year Book (not sure if all those capitals were necessary, but best to play it safe). I wouldn’t say it brought back a flood of memories and emotions, but rather that they slowly drifted in one by one, and are still returning. I’m amazed at how insightful some people were with what they had written to me, sometimes people I barely remembered. I was shocked by an encouraging note written by a girl who had committed suicide a couple years later. That event impacted me significantly, and probably always will. I thought if there was any way I could go back and somehow prevent such a tragedy from happening, I would, without a doubt. In another note, someone warned me against letting my talents go to waste. It made me reflect on how little I use my creativity now compared to how often I used it back then. I wondered why that is and how I can change it. Reading through those notes, I felt like I now understood some of those people from my past (and myself) better. I thought of how vain many of us were back then and how vain I continue to be today. And yet, I know I’ve grown a lot. I don’t know if I’m a whole new person but I’m definitely a different person from before.

For my sister’s birthday, I’d bought her a book she really wanted by Donald Miller, one of her favorite authors. In the opening, he writes about memories, how infrequently they are retained and how a friend of his deemed them so important as to write them down so as not to forget. I do think they’re important and there are few things I love more than creating really great memories with people and being able to later reflect fondly upon times gone by. And yet, I don’t believe memories are all we have, despite what some may say. Memories, even those that are lost, still effect us some way, still shape who we are and who we become. I thank God for the way He created our minds to work and I marvel that His grace remains whether we remember or forget. I think there is sometimes a beauty in forgetting. Is He not the One who chooses to remember our sins no more?

I took a trip to Disneyland with some coworkers last Sunday and that was Disney’s official Halloween slogan, “wicked fun for everyone.” I don’t know if I’d describe it as wicked fun, but we did have a good time. We got there late (around 4 pm) and had to park in the Buzz Lightyear lot, which was way out in the middle of nowhere (drive to infinity, go slightly beyond and make a right) because the place was so packed. We managed to get on two rides, but they were the two that had been done-up all special for the holiday: Haunted Mansion (Nightmare before Christmas theme) and Space Mountain (Ghost Galaxy theme). Having waiting in some incredibly long lines (FastPass was closed) we decided we didn’t want Mickey for president (you might get magically free health care, but you’d have to wait a very long time for it).  After the rides, we watched a seasonal fireworks display that included a cool projected animation sequence on the Small World castle. When the fireworks were over, we walked all the way across the park and then to the end of Downtown Disney to the only restaurant still open, the Rainforest Cafe. At that point we were completely famished and I was on the verge of  hunting and consuming the huge animatronic anaconda near the entrance. I’d never been there before and the food was pretty good, plus we had a nice waiter. I’d call it a successful trip though we were all very happy to finally get home and sleep (standing in lines is mighty tiresome you know).

Here’s a few pictures.

For starters, in case you hadn’t yet heard I’m now a full-time employee at Vicon: House of Moves, where I was previously working as an independent contractor. It’s fairly exciting for me considering that I’ve been working in the motion capture industry for around 3 years now as a contractor and I’m now going to be hired on as an employee for the first time.

Also, I’ve attended two churches up in LA so far. The first was a smaller (but nice) church called The Vineyard in West LA, the other one was a big, fancy, modern Presbyterian church in Bel Air. I enjoyed some things about both of them and I’ll likely visit them both again at some point, but I’m still largely undecided and will, for lack of a better phrase, continue the hunt.

It’s been quite the experience having to make so many new decisions on my own, things like picking a health care program, choosing a 401k plan, and finding a new church to attend regularly. It’s not like I don’t have solid people to go to for good advice or that I regret having to make these decisions (they’re really quite a privileged and an opportunity), it’s just that these are things I hadn’t given much thought to before, things I just put off as being something that would happen “some day in the future.” It’s a strange feeling when “some day in the future” becomes today and I’m suddenly faced with a good deal more personal responsibility. I realize it’s all part of the whole growing up experience, it’s just not something I find myself naturally easing into. Still, I’m alright with that. I don’t expect life to be perfectly comfortable ride. I know there will be bumps in the road and, in all honesty, I expect the hardest bumps are yet to come.

On the other hand, it’s a little sad watching the last traces of childhood or even the remnants of young adulthood being swept away. I look back and recall with fondness when life was simpler. I realize I shouldn’t long for the unattainable past, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen from time to time. True, all the pure simplicity of life hasn’t departed quite yet, but it’s going to take hard, dedicate effort to retain it and even win a little back. So here’s to pressing forward and doing my best not to glance back and suffer the fate of Lot’s wife; albeit a tasty salt-lick for the animals but entirely useless and immobile otherwise.

People have been asking, so here’s a brief little update:

I moved into my new apartment  a couple Saturdays ago (the 12th) and I’m loving it so far. That whole move-in weekend was something of a big deal; between walking along the Santa Monica Promenade, eating out, watching the movie 9, shopping for household stuff, and having a big ol BBQ with a bunch of coworkers, it was a grand way to celebrate my official move to LA. This weekend will be my last one serving at Calvary Chapel El Cajon and, while it’s not going to be easy to say goodbye (hey, it’s not like I’m dying or moving to another country or even another state), I think it’s a necessary step on the path ahead.

****Update****

I’ve got a few pictures up of the place. Keep in mind the decorating isn’t done, so it’s still a little plain. You can check it out here.

As a wee lad, nap time was by far my lest favorite time of the day and I didn’t really look forward to bath time a whole lot either. But now I greatly enjoy taking showers (you were worried weren’t you?) and though I’m still working on it, I cherish every opportunity to get enough sleep. Though I still love eating as much as ever, my tastes for food have changed significantly over the years and my palate has been greatly expanded from the simple preference for waffles, fish sticks, and chicken pot pie (not that I don’t still enjoy those once in a while). Looking back, I see a lot of changes in my life; decisions and events that led me to where I am now. Unquestionably, there’s a lot of things about me that remain the same, the things that make me who I am. Perhaps some of those things will never change. However, while I can’t honestly say every change in me has been beneficial (I’ve likely become jaded in some ways and, for example, hate glitter now more than ever), I think the majority of the changes have been towards the area of growth and not decline.

And now it looks like a lot of changes are either upon me or fast approaching. Changes in where I’m living, the church attend, work, all kinds of changes and with them comes all sorts of decisions to be made. “Change is good,” or so they say. While that isn’t always the case, I think that it might be true in these circumstances. It can be frightening, all those changes coming at once. And yet, overall, I really don’t feel afraid (that in itself is a big change), despite all the unknown factors. It’s a good place to be, realizing my uncertainty concerning the future while not letting it cause undue worry. I don’t expect things to get easier but I do believe, in one way or another, they’ll be better, or at least more how they should be.

C.S. Lewis wrote that in everything we do, we are transformed in one of two ways. We are either becoming creatures of heaven or creatures of hell. I pray that the steps I take are ones leading up the narrow heavenly path. There are lot of opportunities for growth up ahead and I feel like I’m in a place of preparedness to make the right decisions, the ones that will honor God. Knowing my fallible self, I can’t be certain of this, but I have a hope and a deep desire for it to be true. There are many roads before me, but, God willing, I’ll choose the one He has purposed for me to tread upon, the one less traveled by.