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CALLING ALL COOL CHRISTIANS

August 23, 2012 in Community, Faith, My Journey with 6 Comments

Open Text: Before you read, I want you to know this will be my last post till December. Something fantastic happened, which I will post about in December.

Just think about this as an end to the first installment, and await the next one with the same anticipation that you wait for the Hobbit or a new episode of Breaking Bad.
–@NicksEdwards.

My routine basically consisted of a few key elements. Wake up, work, alone time with a cup of coffee, maybe meet with someone but probably not, hit the thrift stores to find a few treasures I could flip for quick cash on ebay, fit in times to write, and most definitely make time for the woman I had been dating. Maybe I’d even find time for a little one on one with the Lord, but mostly not. I would end my nights in one of three ways, either with my girlfriend, at a bar, or on the front porch of my house with my stud muffin roommates. This was my ritual. You have yours. They look different, but we all have them. What happens to us when our daily ritual experiences turbulence? When it becomes interrupted?niv

Not real turbulence, though we like to say it is. The loss of a friend, or a job, the ending of a relationship with someone significant, not making it in the first round for nursing school, not making enough to put food on your table, you could alter all of these just a little and the list of real turbulence becomes significantly longer. The type turbulence I am referring to is more secretly known as inconvenience, though we would not dare claim it by this name. When our daily ritual experiences something out of the ordinary, something that requires us to go out of our way, whether great or small, we call it turbulence. And we hate it. We despise it, and avoid anything that would intervene with our ritual. Heaven forbid I mess up my ritual for “you name it”. Trust me, being a professional at selfish living, I know what it takes to live an uninterrupted day. A turbulence free day. Its actually harder work than one would think.

If you have followed my blog for any amount of time, you would know that the manner of life I lived last year was Continue Reading…

HEY QUARTER LIFE CRISIS, TAKE A HIKE

August 16, 2012 in Life, My Journey with 7 Comments

Dreaming. If it were a person, I would walk right up to him and introduce myself by extending my hand towards him, and at the very moment our palms made contact, I would usher him into some type of body hold my younger brother taught me during his third grade martial arts class. I would hold him there until he told me exactly what I am supposed to do. I’d ask him, “When is my life going to start? When am I going to find that ‘calling’ I have looked and waited for since I was a young boy? I remember people telling me that I had the ‘fire’ in my eyes! So where is that calling I should pursue? Where is the life I have be dreaming about?” After getting all the answers I needed I’d release him and his, now purple, arm.

“Hey, sorry about that. But I just needed to know what direction I should be headed… I’m in my twenty-whatevers and there’s a lot of pressure to be-do-accomplish something.” Hopefully he would understand.

There has never been a time when I haven’t been doing something, but there is always an insatiable urge to dream of the next big something. I would dream of what the next big thing I could write home about was. In college, I needed to figure out my vocation, and figure it out fast. Maybe it was so I could bring peace to the hearts of others when they inquired about my future. Maybe it was to bring peace to my own. Whatever the case, I needed to always have something I was working towards. Last year I worked the best coffee gig in my hometown. I was a barista in a job that encourages ministry. Could there be a better job for a young christian dude working his way through college? I’d say no. Yet, I was discontent with the amazing gift that fell in my lap. Why? Because I HAD to Continue Reading…

THE ANIMAL, PORN, AND FINDING JESUS || PART 2

August 2, 2012 in My Journey, Relationships with 12 Comments

Open Text: Consequently, including the words “animal” and “porn” in sequence within your title opens you up to an entirely new audience. Google, Yahoo, Bing and all the like send me a breakdown of how my blog is found, what people type to find my blog,  and how many times the specific topic is searched ultimately leading to… here. Needless to say, my blog is now exposed to a new audience. An audience I warmly welcome. And since you are now here, how ever you got here, I want to tell you: 1. You are not alone. Both men and women live with the same struggle everyday. There are tons of resources for both men ||Click Here|| andwomen ||Click Here|| out there just waiting for you.  2. Your sin and struggle is not your identity. You are not some swamp monster living in the Florida marshes. Whether you believe it or not Jesus died for your sins and would love to take the burden off your shoulders. 3.You CAN live without it. I remember the first guy I met who told me, “I don’t look at porn.” I pegged him as a liar at first, but have since joined him along with tons of other men and women living happily porn-free lives.  4. Feel free to email me Here.
–@NicksEdwards.

It was my first time walking into the Nagel’s. I don’t remember who wrangled me into going to a small group  called “Guys Group”. Small groups usually weren’t my thing, but then again this was not really a small group. It was actually just a bunch of guys from different churches and different school getting together every monday night since… no one remembers. The first night I remember the blood rushing to my feet when the guys began to share all of their struggles with an alarming amount of transparency. Alarming only to me because most of my secrets were tucked deep inside me. The first week I didn’t open up because heck… I don’t want to tell anyone any of the struggles I had. I was 14 and wanted to be cool. Cool kids don’t have struggles. Luckily for me, these young guys, with puberty in full swing, became my type of cool kids. This group radically transformed my early walk with the the Lord. I found Continue Reading…

THE ANIMAL, PORN, AND FINDING JESUS || PART I

July 12, 2012 in Faith, My Journey with 12 Comments

Open Text: Don’t let the name scare you. Everyone can divide up their life story into multiple threads. This is just one thread of many in my young story. Enjoy
–@NicksEdwards.

 

There is still a small room in my heart occupied by that animal that longs to be desired. Before I knew Jesus that animal made claim to a larger plot of land. This animal was a self-proclaimed ruler, and in many rights he was. If ruler-ship is defined by a measure of land, then by golly, this animal was who he said he was. The ruler of my heart. And this animal loved its position and would do what ever was necessary to keep it and to use it.

It was in 5th grade when I built my first computer with my father. It was our Dad and son project. I like to say I had a big hand in building it and my father would tell you that I DID, though we could all guess the reality of who actually put it together. The learning curve from Legos to graphic cards and motherboards is exponentially bigger than a 5th grader could ever imagine. Thanks to my father and his ability to translate computer engineering into Sunday school flannel graphs, we built the computer in no time.

In 6th grade I was introduced to the world of pornography Continue Reading…

FIFTY FOUR DYING PEOPLE AND KARAOKE

July 5, 2012 in Faith, My Journey with 9 Comments

Microphone in my left sweaty palm, and tambourine clenched in my right. Fifty-four people on deaths doorstep, each in their designated chair, sit looking up at me and the four others on stage. Each one has their own tale to tell of how they wound up here, but I know I wouldn’t be able to understand them unless I had a translator. One thing I did know was that most of the people in front of me lived under some of the worst shame a Taiwanese can be slapped with. Their families had abandoned them. Like an Eskimo released into the wild ocean near life’s end, drifting off into the darkness on a small plot of icy land, sitting and awaiting death.

Retirement homes, if you could call this place one. Where the old are dropped off to see life’s end, alone. I have never heard of anyone wanting to live out their last days in a stale facility but regardless of what these folks wanted, they were here to stay. 

The short version of Taiwanese life cycle goes like this: parents welcome their youngsters into life, wipe their bottoms and raise their kids to get good grades so that they can get a high paying job. The kids, now grown up with high paying jobs, are supposed to take care of their parents, wipe their bottoms, and walk Continue Reading…

ENTITLED BY PRIDE

June 28, 2012 in Faith, My Journey with 6 Comments

I once convinced myself I was entitled to a long list of things. I reckon it started with my birth in America. While I feel my birth in America was a gift, I think the back hand of my nationality is my sense of entitlement. Here is my list, I bet it looks like yours: I am entitled to a job,a good-girlfriend-turned-amazing-wife, respect, a better job after my undergrad, an even better job after my masters, clean water, cheap gas, a gallon of milk under 2 dollars, and a cappuccino at the appropriate temperature. I give the barista my money, they give me a darn good cappuccino.

Today, our lecturer invited anyone out to lunch who wanted to continue dialoguing. Nearly half the class crammed into, what we would call, a hole in the wall lunch joint. An order of pork fried rice over rich discussion for me. All 17 of us positioned ourselves around a table in preparation for the fountain of knowledge our lecturer had. Maybe by wading into a conversation with him, we could some how absorb, like some famous sea sponge, the knowledge this guy had. As time passed I looked around the table as eyes and ears were fixated on him. That is when I asked myself, “I wonder Continue Reading…

LOATHING AND GRATEFULNESS

June 21, 2012 in Community, My Journey with 11 Comments

LOATHING

He was nearly finished with his pasta when I dug my spoon down into the cheesy bowl. I took my first bite and found it room temperature. I was surprised at how long winded I was with a man I only had one conversation with outside of this lunch. I must have gone on for a half hour if this bowl was already cooling down. I took my next bite and looked up at him in anticipation. He was about to give me the answer to all the problems I just shared.

In the 30 seconds of silence before he spoke I tried to guess what advice this man would give me. I had heard him lecture around 6 or 7 times and his lectures had been some of the most complex, neuron stimulating,  and inspiring teachings I had heard. Maybe you think I would take creative liberties to compare his lectures to most of the TED talks, or university lectures I’ve heard, but I’m not. They were brilliant. They were all from the bible.

I was sharing lunch with this guy. He was sitting across from me, and I had just spilled my guts Continue Reading…

THE WORST RELATIONSHIP HE EVER ENDED

June 14, 2012 in My Journey, Relationships with 19 Comments

I used to live in America. I used to enjoy the comfort of a bed with no mosquito net, and live without fear of spiders the size of my fist. Where I could drink cool water from my faucet knowing that some small critter was not about to enjoy my insides without my approval, though I don’t think I would ever approve of a small critter making his abode in my large intestine.

I left my home where I could step out of my house and within five minutes be holding one of the best americanos  around. To you coffee connoisseurs, I encourage you to be ok with breaking your commitment of only allowing exquisite coffee to enter your body. If you don’t, you won’t last in my new neighborhood.

Sunday, I slept through a large earthquake. Tuesday, pictures of Taiwanese riding inflatable whales in front of 7-eleven, due to flooding, emerged. They make inflatable whales here. I was awake for yesterday’s earthquake, and I am excited for the typhoon en route for this island. I have never been in a typhoon before, but I love the band Typhoon so it should be great. Rainy Oregon, eat your heart out.

Did I mention flying cockroaches?

I dropped everything I had in Oregon three months ago and hitched a ride to Taiwan. It was never a part of my plan. Four months ago I would have told you I was headed north to work on music, or headed south to work on writing. If you had asked me I would have also thrown in the option of installing synthetic turf fields, the ones the big leagues play on, in Guatemala. Or maybe I told you I am Portland bound to finish my undergrad.  I was a bag so full of ideas that Santa would have had trouble carrying it. Living in Taiwan was not in the bag. Working with a bunch of men and woman passionately serving the very God I had been disconnected from, for who knows how long, was never the game plan.

Three years ago I was teaching life skills to high school students in the largest slum in South Africa. I hate to use these words because of the stigma they carry, and heaven forbid a christian feel anything except melancholy, but I was full of joy, passion, and excitement.

160 days ago I woke up late for work with a wine hangover. Heavily depressed, but you would have never known, because I had maintained the “young man after God’s own heart, teaching kids in some foreign country life skills” disguise. I attribute my clever disguise to my smile and the street-cred that comes with returning home from one of the nation’s most prestigious bible colleges. My smile was paid for by my parents and two years of braces. The bible college taught me the theology of church fathers, and how to roll fantastic cigarettes. It also helped that I would play for my church on Sundays. Gotta’ keep appearance up so no one knows how jacked up I really am. I also forgot to mention that, IAM NickEdwards: Amazing at social media preservation.

Some where between Africa, and the house located in an area deemed “the Highland Hood”  in Salem, Oregon I entered into a deceptive relationship. Not a relationship with a girl, or a guy, but a relationship with God. And it took me leaving everything I knew and was comfortable with to realize just how gnarly my relationship with God had become. To look up from my boat, and realize how far down stream I had drifted.

When I packed my suitcase-and-a-half full and came to Taiwan I said goodbye to the worst relationship I was ever in. My old relationship with a god.  When I said goodbye to it, I welcomed a new relationship with God. In his mercy he took me from my own delusion, a god based on compromise, drunken nights to which I would show the condemnation police my “Grace- Get outta’ hell free” card.

Maybe you are upset to find out I was on stage with a hangover. I’ll take that. Maybe this resonates with your past. Maybe it resonates with you currently, to which I would tell you, “Get outta’ your compromised relationship with whoever you have turned God into, and enter into a relationship with the God that brings life, joy in pain, joy for the sake of joy, and salvation. And so much more.”

MATHEMATICAL JESUS

May 24, 2012 in Faith, My Journey with 10 Comments

Your own personal Jesus. Thank you Johnny Cash.

Why does Jesus not fit in my box? Why is he not mathematical? These were the questions I asked myself as I ran a half marathon last Sunday.

A half marathon. It is a small feat for many, but for a guy whose last year was spent in the company of Jim Beam, American Spirits, IPA’s, Coffee, and the other folks that hang around with them, this was a big accomplishment. It was an even bigger accomplishment that I finished in a decent time considering I committed to it last minute, and I had one week to train for it.

As I ran I thought of everything I could to keep my mind off of the current stress my body was under. I played seven nation army, the DUBSTEP arrangement, over and over in my head and ran to its beats. I learned the CBA’s backwards. Then I came to lament station, where I stayed till I ended the race. I wasn’t expecting to arrive there, but it’s where (took out “the”) Jesus wanted me to be. I lamented in frustration over my last year. I lamented over friends who have walked away from Jesus because he did not fit the mold they had fashioned in their minds. I lamented over my misplaced frustrations with “my own personal Jesus.” Why he would he let them walk away? I lamented over the death of my friend’s Dad who died of cancer after we prayed for healing. He even went to a “renowned” healing room to receive healing from Jesus, like many others had received. Jesus, was it your desire or plan all along that they would walk through divorce and be fully separated? Why did I spend a year in a relationship to find out the relationship was not supposed to be? Jesus was not fulfilling the conditional paradigm I put him in: “Jesus, If I…. then you must.”

Jesus, why do you not fit in my box, and why are you not mathematical?
Why are you not an equation I can understand nor anticipate the outcome of?

Math has never been my forte. I passed my last math class with a 98%, not because of my intellectual understanding of mathematics, but because of my Sith powers of manipulation. My teacher loved economics and I happened to know enough to carry conversation with her. In return for my listening, I had no problem asking for her help during tests, which usually produced the answer I needed. I would hope I am a better person now. I like my mathematics because if I know how to solve the equation I can produce the answer. I like my Jesus Mathematical. I like to order my Jesus over easy and with a side of something I can anticipate and understand. God bless growing up in America.

Why does Jesus not act the way I have fashioned him to be?

Near the end of the race all my questions were answered. Well, more like redirected. About a month prior some one asked me after hearing some of my frustrations, “Nick, what are you not believing about the gospel?” I wrestled with the question, came up with a quick answer, and then filed it in some obscure location in the back of my mind. During the time it was filed away it underwent a transformation that only became clear to me during my run in the midst the frustration and laments. The question became the answer. All these questions I had were based out of something I did not believe about the gospel. I was not believing Jesus was good. I was not believing he was good because he was not fitting my idea of what good represents. Growing up in America has shaped what good means to me, and good means letting me be an individual who gets what he wants when he does what is required. Jesus should fit the same system, right? I follow him and do as he commands, and he makes my life better. I am a child of my culture and the harsh and beautiful reality is, I am wrong and so are you, and it’s ok. We are wrong together. The reality is Jesus does not work like an equation, nor will he ever fit into any theologian’s box, let alone ours.

Circumstances do not change the character of Jesus. When you lost your Dad to cancer after everyone prayed for him, Jesus is good. When your boyfriend or girlfriend cheated on you, Jesus is good. When you walked through that divorce, Jesus is good. When you were molested as a child by some one you trusted, Jesus is good. When your friend walked away from everything he once believed, Jesus is good. When Jesus does not fit the paradigm we have created, he is still good has been good, and will be good forevermore.

Amen.

———

Welcome to the space created to give you the monologue of my life, in hopes it creates a dialogue with yours.

MY FIRST WORLD CHRISTIAN PROBLEMS

May 17, 2012 in My Journey with 12 Comments

We were skating under the bridge when my stomach so kindly told me, “Nick, the breakfast roll you ate earlier is not making friends.”  I told Tim the outreach leader I had to jet. Umbrella in hand to fend off the assaulting downpour, though it did no good for my shoes, I was in hot pursuit of a bathroom. It  would have been helpful to remember how to ask  “Where is the nearest bathroom,” in the local language (apparently Spanish doesn’t work here). I began brainstorming what I would do in the worse case scenario. None of which came to a pleasant solution. Finally I spotted the green siren, my savior singing my name, beckoning me to come inside. I was happy to answer the call. Unfortunately, even in Taiwan, you still need to buy a drink in order to get a key for the bathroom, and unfortunately I had no cash on me. Bless their hearts, they pointed me to a public bathroom a block away. Across the courtyard, through Subway into an electronic store, take a left at the digital cameras, go out the exit into the alley way and it’s the last door on the right. Great marketing strategy by Starbucks I might add. If I had had cash, it would have been as good as theirs.

Last door on the right, there it is. At last, I may bring peace to the war within me. It was a scenario that belonged only to the late night comedy series Workaholics . I opened the door to find no refuge from the rain. The rain decided to focus its forces to an area directly over the toilet. A steady stream the width of a nickel, though I didn’t measure, was pouring over the only throne in the room. This would be one degree worse had the toilet actually been what is commonly known here as a “Squatty Potty”.

(Don’t worry, I’ll spare everyone the rest of the unsavory details.)

Umbrella in hand but this time inside. Still defending myself from the downpour. The umbrella only protected the onslaught from above, but not from the sides.  I sat there and asked myself, “What on earth am I doing here?”  A part of a skate ministry. I don’t even know how to skate. Most of the demographic we are trying to reach does, but I don’t. I do know how to make a fool trying. Actually I should say I am a part of an outreach that uses embarrassment as one of its tools. I, Nick, use my inability to skate as a way to connect to a group I would otherwise have no way to associate with. But I have a skate board, and that means I’m in. This is not what I signed up for. This toilet. Being drenched. A skate outreach I had no business being a part of.

I sat there, on the throne of self-pity. Being anointed as “King of Egocentric ‘ia” by the clouds.

Then it hit me. A stroke of the bipolar. It took me from king to pauper in mere moments. I had given into  #firstworldproblems and Philippians 1:29 came to mind, “For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him,.”  I laughed out loud, by myself, while this verse ran as a teleprompter before me. What I was going through could not be classified in the least as suffering. The retelling of this through short film would have a title that read, “Based on a true story,” and the extremely small subtitle below it would read, “loosely based on an idea of american suffrage, but still not really.”

My #firstworldproblems were a humorous joke in light of what I have been given, both as an American and as a Christian. As I sat there uncomfortably I recalled a video I had watched a few days prior of Christians in India being hunted down and beaten with wooden billy-clubs.  Yet I sat there steaming in my #firstworldproblems better yet, my #firstworldchristianproblems, being completely ungrateful. What beats my self pity? Gratefulness. What do I have to be grateful for? Everything. My family, with parents who are still happily married after 28-something-years of marriage. The opportunity to live in another country. To have the amazing privilege of being in community with some of the most humble and selfless people. But most of all knowing Jesus, and what he did for me.

I walked out of the bathroom, drenched, with a renewed mind, and a settled stomach.

———

Welcome to the space created to give you the monologue of my life, in hopes it creates a dialogue with yours

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