Ghosting

Ghosting is the act of leaving a social situation without telling people goodbye. One minute you’re there, then a while later, people wonder, “Where’d he go?” Learning about this technique was incredibly liberating for me because I was always the guy who either stayed until the end of the party or told everyone I knew goodbye before I left. I used to be big on goodbyes. But as I’ve grown, and as I’ve grown older, I’ve felt less of an urge to say goodbye. Because goodbyes are usually either irrelevant, disappointing or straight up depressing.

I’ve found it’s much better to just leave. To move on as if whatever event I was at was just one of the points along the journey, not noteworthy enough to demand a proper farewell.

And I’ve started to extend this act into parts of my life much more significant than a social situation like a party. In situations of extreme disappointment with a relationship, in cases where someone brings unwanted drama into my life or even in cases where I deem the benefit less than the effort involved … ghost. At this point in my life, I don’t feel like I owe anyone an explanation, and I feel no need to justify the disappearance. I just go.

Because there’s a power in that. I was here. Now I’m gone. And there’s nothing you can do to change it.

Believe

My brain is wired in a way that I want to believe you more than I don't believe you. In a way that I want to just believe. That the good news is true. That you mean what you just said. That things sometimes do work out in the end. Call it intrinsic hope. A belief that the spirit in me is a glowing golden light that will find others with that same light in them too. And that, in the end, we find that it's not the end at all but a new beginning that we never could have imagined.

The Me I'm Being Better

This was going to be a response to a friend's blog post, but the comment didn't submit correctly so I decided to share it here.

I decided a while back to stop trying to get smiley faces on my papers and, when I let someone down, to own up to it and say, "Yeah, I failed. So what?" I thought it would be this grand "here's the new Matthew" party and everyone would love that I'm being real - that I only laugh at their jokes when I find them funny and that I only smile when I mean it.

But it turns out, most people don't like honesty. Or, more so, they are scared to death of someone being real with them. Most of my friends actually didn't notice a huge change because I was already pretty real with them, but the people I work with sure did. They couldn't (can't) handle it. So I've gotten complaints and I've had to fight some serious battles. But the point is that I like the me I'm being better now because I'm acting how I really feel and saying what I really think - whether I think anyone will like it or not. And that's pretty liberating.

Your post was by no means an invitation for me to write this, but I had to share it somewhere. Thanks for writing a piece that resonated enough with my soul to also want to share.

Thoughts on not sleeping

It’s twenty minutes after midnight, and I have no desire for sleep. It may be the pint of Java Porter that I drank earlier (that they promised didn’t have much caffeine in it) or it may be my restless spirit of late. I feel that my soul has something to say and it’s waiting for me to get it out. The problem is, I don’t know what that something is. So I’ll listen to some tunes, check my Facebook feed again to see if there’s anything new happening.

But I do know the moon last night was so bright and crisp and full, and it makes me think that life is simultaneously too haunting and beautiful for sleep. Though my dreams have had a sweetness to them lately. A smiling face. A soft touch. Comfort and stillness. Leaving me only to wake to an unfulfilled want, an unfulfilled life. I know I’m on the cusp of something, but I’ve been riding that feeling for a while now. And how long can you stand on that edge and it still be indicative of a change?

Can one be carried away on the crest of a wave?

Christian

I'm discovering that being a Christian is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. And I'm not even a good one.

If I've ever needed strength, if I've ever needed hope, if I've ever needed love, I do now.

Unpolished

After 33 years, I'm getting pretty comfortable in my own skin. But I still find myself showing a polished exterior to people in some situations. Like smiling sometimes when it's not necessary, laughing at a joke I don't think is funny or not straight up telling you when I think you're wrong. I do this for two reasons. 1) It prevents friction and allows me to slide through situations where I don't actually want to deal with differences, and 2) I think a lot of people have very sensitive egos and get their feelings hurt too easily when someone is honest with them.

Well, the first is self-serving and the second may be unfair to people because I'm assuming they're not strong enough to deal the full force of me. So, I'm going to stop doing those things as much as possible. Will it lead to in-depth discussions that I don't really want to have with some people? Yes. Will it lead to some people getting their feelings hurt and not liking me anymore? Probably. Will you get to see my inexplicable mood swings? Likely. Will I accidentally say "fuck" at some point and ruffle your feathers? Guaranteed.

But guess what? When I laugh, I'll mean it 100%. When I disagree, it's because I respect you enough to tell you I think you're wrong...and because I think you can handle it.

So here we go. A little less polished and a lot more real.

You Can’t Do Anything

Tonight I was thinking about my mom’s situation and how she’s leading a miserable life because of her mental/emotional state and because of her outlook. This is something that always makes me angry or sad when I think about it very much. And I was getting more and more frustrated thinking, There’s nothing I can do! Then I felt God saying to me “There is nothing you can do.” And the way he said it said so much more. He said, you are doing all you can do. Be at peace – you can’t do anything… But I can. And an utter sense peace washed over me. I was able to let go of wanting to fix it, of feeling like I have to fix it to save my mother’s life. Because I know that I can’t. Because I know that he can.

Then I thought of other areas where I have a similar feeling – being frustrated in my current job and wanting to move to the next step in my career, wanting to find the right girl who I can marry and start a family with. And I thought of those words again There is nothing you can do.

For my mom, all I can do is pray and trust God will take care of her. With my career, I’ll keep applying to jobs and networking and gaining more experience, but all I can really do is trust God to provide. With dating, I will keep going out and meeting people and even going on awkward dates sometimes, but all I can really do is trust that God will lead me to her.

I’ve always been a performer, thinking that I have to achieve certain things or be a certain way to be loved, to be lovable. And, tonight, God said No. You can’t do anything. Just trust me. So I’ll trust and I’ll pray and I’ll welcome the peace he gives me.

Questions and Answers

Tonight at church, several people got up and gave testimonies about what God has done and is doing in their lives. The two main things I heard that really stuck in my mind were 1) God seems to talk to these people. Why do I rarely hear him anymore? and 2) Why does God not save us from really painful, destructive situations sometimes?

I’ve been struggling with sinus problems most of my life. My sinuses never formed right when I was a child, and that has caused chronic pain and health problems all of my adult life. After three surgeries several years ago and exhausting every other treatment Western medicine has to offer, I’m still sick. 

And my sinus problems have gotten worse in the past few months. When I'm inside, my sinuses swell and I have lots of drainage down my throat. So, I've never been able to live in a place where I could spend long stretches of time inside because it would make me sick. Because of that, I've not felt truly at home anywhere I've lived since I was a child.

I’ve gone through a cycle of emotions – being mad at God, doubting if he really cares about me at all, believing that he’s going to heal me instantaneously, etc. Regardless, I’m still sick and I honestly don’t see how that’s going to change.

Somehow, maybe out of sheer frustration towards God, I’ve been going to a church where I knew a few people. There I’m finding a place that feels more like home than anyplace (not just a church, but anyplace) I’ve been in years. The way the people there treat me is making me feel known, appreciated, accepted for exactly who I am – the good and the bad, the smiles and the intense struggles.

So tonight, after the three people had given their testimonies and the worship band was starting to play, I was sitting in my chair looking at the floor thinking about all this. I wasn’t praying. I was just asking myself, Why won’t God heal me? I just don't understand.

Then I heard God say, If you weren’t broken, you wouldn’t be here.

Tears came to my eyes. For years I’ve struggled with loneliness and faithfulness to God and finding Christian friends who I connect with. And now he’s blessing me with those very things. And if I wasn’t sick and broken and knowing I need healing and answers for my physical problems, I wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have opened my heart or my mind to receiving a blessing from God.

The Bible verse comes to mind that says “What do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?” I am suffering physically—for now at least—but that may be the very thing that has saved my soul.  

To the last drop

Do you ever just feel like you are going to explode because there is so much life to be lived and you want to live it all right now? Sometimes it brings tears to my eyes – how much good there is and how much more to life I’m yet to experience. I used to be overwhelmed by the sadness in this world, and it made me want to give up…and I did for a while. But now I’m overwhelmed by how much love there is to have and to give, how much adventure is to be had, how many people there are to meet and how much depth in relationships I get to explore with friends I already have. And there’s sadness mixed into this too, but it gets caught up in the beautiful and turns into one beautifully sweet and bitter and intoxicating cocktail that is life. I may chug it sometimes and savor every drop at other times, but there’s no doubt I’m going to keep drinking it until there’s none left.

White Fire

It’s been a while since I’ve cared like this,

since I’ve cared enough to want to protect

someone else. Another’s interest, another’s heart.

And when they come at you I ignite like fire

ready to encircle you. Ready to burn them down.

Passion may one day be the end of me. But without it, I don’t even begin.

Questions

Tonight I'm sitting alone in my apartment asking myself: Why am I here? What is my life meant for?

These questions are especially present in my mind tonight because last week, I had a great week. Things are going well professionally. I'm in the interview process for two jobs, either of which would be the perfect next step in my career. And things are going well personally. I spent time this week with great friends and had a fantastic birthday party over the weekend. I've been spending quality time with my girlfriend, and it's clear that something serious is developing there.

So as I sit in my apartment alone, I realize that - despite cooking myself a great, healthy meal and enjoying watching some episodes of Lost - these hours are somewhat empty. I'm not sharing them with anyone. I'm not doing anything productive, like writing a book or learning a new language or even writing songs. And I feel like this time is wasted.

All this has me wondering if my subconscious...or my soul...is ready for the next step. Ready to do something more. Ready to give everything I have to something bigger than myself.

But I don't have the answers to all that. So I sit here asking, Why am I here? What is my life meant for?

Surrender

For my whole life, the way the concept of the “fruit of the Spirit” was explained to me never really felt right. There was something in me that always thought “I don’t think that’s what it means.” The verse (Galatians 5:22) says, “ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control.” Pastors I’ve heard always explained it saying, “if you’re a Christian, these should be the fruits of your life” – indicating that if I try hard enough, I can be all of those things. I struggled with that because some of those, like peace and patience, are not qualities a person can will himself to have. But, listening to a sermon by Charles Stanley this morning, I learned that those people have it all wrong.

Those qualities are the fruit of the Spirit…capital S Spirit, which refers to the Holy Spirit. Not qualities that I can will myself to have nor qualities that are inherently within me. [side note for non-Christians: Christians believe that the Holy Spirit – part of the Trinity of God – lives in us once we become Christians. The concept of the Trinity is a whole other matter that I don’t fully understand and can’t easily explain, but that’s the concept behind what I’m talking about here.] So, my job is not to try hard to have those qualities. All I have to do is surrender to the Spirit inside me, and those qualities can be mine. Surrender is such a beautiful word here. It doesn’t mean “give up to” in a negative way. When you surrender to God, you don’t become a prisoner – you are set free. Free from all your insecurities, fears, shortcomings, failures. Free from yourself.

I love others because of God in me (the Holy Spirit). I can find joy and peace because God in me knows how everything began and how it will end, and he cannot be shaken. I can be all those things in that verse, but only when I set aside myself (my selfish and prideful tendencies). And I don’t know anything sweeter than surrendering your burden to someone who you know can handle it.

Something that happened to me when I was younger is a good illustration of the same feeling I have when I surrender to God. On my 22^nd birthday, my mom had come to see me in Lubbock, Texas – a few hours’ drive away from where she lives. On the drive home, she was in a horrible car wreck where her car went off the road, flipped over six to eight times and landed upside down in a ditch. I got the call and took off to the hospital in Snyder where the paramedics had taken her. The rest of my family was three or more hours away. I arrived at the hospital to find my mom in a neck brace with blood all over her arms and face. She had several broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a broken hand, and they were very worried about possible internal injuries. She was able to make eye contact with me and squeeze my hand and get out a few words trying to reassure me that she was going to be ok. When I asked the doctors if she was going to be ok, they said they just didn’t know. They were asking me all these questions about her medical history that I was trying to answer and asking me to sign papers regarding the emergency transport. I didn’t know what to do. I was completely alone and could do nothing to help her. Within minutes after I arrived, they loaded her up in the care flight helicopter, and I kissed her check and said goodbye.

I spent the next two hours driving, way over the speed limit, to the bigger hospital in Abilene where they were taking her. I had no idea how she was, what kind of pain she was in or if she’d even be alive when I got there. My grandparents and brother and sister were all in route to the hospital. I fought back tears and tried to hold everything together as I drove, trying to suppress the panic and fear and sadness and aloneness that was threatening to overwhelm me. When I arrived at the hospital in Abilene, I ran as fast as I could to the ER. Right as I walked through the sliding glass doors, I saw my family there. And I started crying. I hugged my brother and sister and grandparents. Before any of them said anything to me, I knew everything was going to be ok. I surrendered all my fears and worries and let myself break down and lose control, letting out all those emotions. My granddad and brother (who are both doctors) told me that Mom was fine other than the broken bones and said that we’d be able to see her shortly.

That’s what it feels like to surrender to the Holy Spirit. Like seeing my family all there in the ER waiting for me, it’s the sweetest sight you’ll ever see – someone to rescue you. And, if I know anything, I know I need to be rescued.