I think it’s safe to say, in general, I don’t feel like serving God. I don’t think anybody does. We, as fallen human beings, are motivated to become distracted with other things, so that we don’t have to come face-to-face with our holy Creator. We don’t like Him. We hate the way He makes us feel. We want to feel good about ourselves—not look at ourselves the way God sees us—sinful and disobedient.

God calls us to action—He calls us to obey His commands. However, because He doesn’t force us to obey Him, we think we can get away with not doing so. Christians may even believe they have the freedom to disobey Him, because our salvation is already secure and that His laws don’t apply to us anymore. We would rather concentrate on enjoying life and interacting with people than worry about rules or what God wants us to do. I think we’re scared that God wants us to go and do something completely foreign to us—that He wants us to leave all of the things we love behind: our family, friends, possessions, home…

Society (and the devil, I’m sure) has ingrained in our culture the idea that no action is worthwhile without the emotion to back it up. If we aren’t motivated by the right reasons, we shouldn’t do what it is we’re thinking of doing. Emotion first, then action. Don’t do anything, unless you mean it.

But God says differently. He says, “Obey me.” Period. Your love for Him and the duties He’s given you will come later. Whether we feel like it or not (and I assure you—we won’t), God wants us to obey Him—pray to Him, study His Word, serve Him, obey His commands. We do it—not because we feel the urge to do so—but because we love Him enough to obey Him. We serve Him because we love Him—not because we want to.

Due to the very nature of my human body, I don’t feel like praying before going to bed (or any other time of day). My body wants to sleep at night. During the day, it can’t stand still long enough to have a meaningful dialog with God. I don’t have time to read God’s Word, because I have to get ready for work in the mornings, and after I come home, I have to get stuff done before going to bed—not to mention my Internet and TV time. I can’t go on a mission trip, because I only get two weeks of vacation from work. I would rather use those weeks to go to the beach. I can’t quit my job and do full-time ministry, because I can’t possibly make enough money doing that to pay the bills. I have a future to plan for, after all, and I want to stay in northern Virginia, make lots of money, and have a nice house with a nice family.

Forget all that. God wants us to obey Him—to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Him. No excuses. “If you love me, keep my commandments. If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters–yes, even his own life–he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who lets himself be distracted from the work I plan for him is not fit for the Kingdom of God.” He doesn’t say, “Obey me, if you feel like it or if you have the right motivation.” He just says, “Obey Me. If you love me, obey Me. Follow Me. No excuses.”

I don’t really feel like shuffling my life around, but there’s only one thing that’s important in this world. My money and my time should be devoted to it. Stop screwing around and wasting your resources, Michael. Go to God, figure out what He wants you to do, and do it. Doesn’t matter how I feel or what’s motivating me. Maybe it’s pride that motivates me. Maybe it’s shame. Maybe it is in fact love for God that makes me turn to Him now. It doesn’t really matter. As a fallen man, I will never be able to do something out of purely good intentions or pure love for God. It’s impossible. There will always be sin mixed with everything I do. But the point is—that shouldn’t stop me. That shouldn’t stop you. God knows our motivations are messed up. That’s why He makes it really easy for us. Obey Me. That’s it.

Cheap Tuesdays

Stephanie, Diane and myself met at University Mall on Tuesday for half-priced burgers and $1.50 movie. Unfortunately, Chantilly High School was having their graduation ceremony at the Patriot Center at GMU, so the whole area was a traffic mess and Brion’s Grille was packed with little rats and their parents. The three of us decided to walk over to McDonalds for some cheap eats there. Diane got a happy meal and Stephanie and I were jealous of her little toy. It was some Disney character dressed up like Elvis—with a guitar and surfboard and a bobble hip. At 7:15 we went downstairs to watch Ice Age. The movie was funny at parts, but rather random and bland as a whole. Oh, well. What do you want for a buck-fifty?

Thai Wednesday

I finally had dinner with Carol. I’d been promising her a birthday dinner, since last week. We met at her place, and then went to Fair Lakes to eat at Star Thai. Neither of us had been there before, so we were surprised—but pleased—with the look & feel of the interior, as well as the food itself. It was very cozy & the cool color interior was relaxing. I decided to try all new things, since it was a new venue & I had never had Thai food before. After some spring roll appetizers, I ordered Roasted Duck and a Long Island Ice Tea. Both were very good.

After dinner, we went (literally) next door to the TCBY for dessert. I was excited. Not just because of the scrumptious deserts, but because of the wonderful clientele. The place was packed with older, professional—and HOT—single women. They were older—late twenties, early thirties. They were professionals—stylish clothing, designer eyewear. They were single—no rings. And they were hot! I swear, it was like a convention or something, and I was ready to do a little networking, if know what I mean. But alas, Carol took one look around, was probably thinking the same thing I was, and wanted to leave right away. Okey dokey. We went to Best Buy instead, where we bought her a USB 2.0 card for her PC. Sometime next week, I’m going to help her install the card and set up her external CD-RW drive. I’m like Schneider—the Computer Fix-It man. Ladies, tell all your friends. I make house calls.

Dancin’ Cheese Thursday

In honor of Jeff’s birthday, a group of us went to Chuck E. Cheese’s in Herndon after work. Adam, Deanne, Jamie, Jeff and I were there. We had all sorts of fun eating pizza, watching the animatronics show, making fun of kids, playing video games, getting our pictures drawn by Chuck E. Cheese himself, and redeeming our tickets for wacky prizes. It was very fun, and I think Jeff had a great time, which was the point. Jeff and Jamie had to go home afterwards, but Adam, Deanne and I headed to Club Heaven & Hell in D.C. to get our groove on for 80’s dance night. Michelle, Joel, Pete (and his cutie pals) met us there. The place played some really great songs early on (before we were tipsy enough to get on the dance floor), then gradually played more obscure songs (at least to me). But it was all groovy. We had a great time dancing until 2 o’clock in the morning and hanging out for a while after that. I eventually got home at 4 in the morning, went to sleep for 2 ½ hours, then got up to go to work.

Zombie Friday

I had an all-day marketing meeting starting at 8 AM. Needless to say, I was not very participant during the meeting. I had to guzzle down Mountain Dews and frantically draw insane pictures on my notepad to stay awake. I made the mistake of allowing the VP of Marketing to walk by and see what I was doing. He didn’t say anything, but I could imagine what he thought of me. My manager didn’t seem too happy with me at the end of the day, either, and insinuated that I be at work at 8:30 sharp from now on. (Since when was our department strict about time schedules?)

I went home and went to bed. I slept until Saturday. I missed the Vroom show, but I guess you trade one evening of fun for another. That’s just the way it goes.

Spider Friend Saturday

I devoted all day Saturday (and half the day Sunday) to cleaning house, paying bills and organizing my life—all while watching the entire Spider-Man & His Amazing Friends series on VCD. Man, I love eBay!

Birthday Bonanza

This past week has also been crazy birthday week. The week prior was Julia, Carol and Kelly’s birthdays. This week was Cheryl, Clay, Jeff, Amanda, Sharon and Donna’s birthdays. I am seriously birthday’ed out. Lucky for me, my next friend’s birthday isn’t until Mark’s in July. Of course, that marks the beginning of a new string of birthdays: Conrad, Nadine, Laurel… My goodness.

Last weekend, I went back to West Virginia. Jamie and I spent Saturday evening cruising the Alderson streets to see our old house & cool hangout spots. Everything seemed smaller. The roads, the houses…the people. I recognized the guy standing outside the liquor store, watching the cars go by. I went to school with him. As I drove towards Lewisburg, Jamie spotted an old crush of mine, Heather, talking to someone in a parking lot. She was a snare drummer with me in the Alderson Junior High marching band. We lost contact after we started going to Greenbrier East High School. Jamie & I didn’t stop to say hello.

When we got to Lewisburg, we tried to drive around the high school, but the entrance gate was shut. We drove through Fairlea, old-town Lewisburg and Lewisburg proper. Jamie and I pointed at every other house, remembering which of our old friends and classmates used to live there. I was tempted to drive by Sarah’s house, but I had called her house before I left Fairfax on Saturday morning, and her mom said she’d be out of town for the weekend.

Lewisburg proper has become so built up. Where there used to be a huge green field, there’s now a Super Wal-Mart, a huge parking lot and an Applebee’s. (An Applebee’s in Lewisburg?) It was so strange. We kept driving down past Donna’s house and past Noel’s house (Noel was Jamie’s best friend in high school, Donna was yet another old crush of mine & co-creator of our weekly Bible study). We went as far as the local airport, where I was hoping to find the Greenbrier Theater (my drama friends worked there throughout high school & I helped out with their Haunted Barn one year). Unfortunately, the barn was vacated. Either the place is closed, or they relocated.

We turned around and—on the way back—spotted a new bowling alley/entertainment center. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what to expect. I had my bowling ball and shoes in the back of my car (of course), so I asked Jamie if he wanted to go inside and bowl a game. First, he was reluctant. He said there’d just be a bunch of hicks in there & we’d get into a fight. True, the bar was filled with hicks watching a country cover band—and the pool table area was fairly filled with the species—but the bowling area was open and clear. We got a lane with no one beside us.

The place was incredibly modern. The seats and chairs were clean and roomy. The score box was totally digital with a color screen. The TV screens above us had cool graphics playing after every roll. The lanes were fabulous—they were totally shiny, but not slick. They were perfect. I was so pleased. And it was only $2 a game! It was the best bowling alley I’d ever been to. In Lewisburg, no less! I will never be bored in West Virginia again.

Jamie beat me both games (I scored 99, then 125). Halfway through our second game, they turned out the lights & had Cosmic Bowling. It was cool, but I couldn’t see very well. It took some time to get used to it. My skull ball didn’t look very cool with the black light on. I suddenly wanted to use one of the colorful, glowing balls.

I saw some old classmates checking out in front of us. I made eye contact with them both & smiled, but they ignored me. I know they recognized me—they were just being dorks. Screw ‘em. The girl at the counter looked really good, so I was happy to divert my attention to her. (Since when did West Virginia girls dress so cool and have such great hairstyles?)

Our next stop was Wal-Mart (oh boy). We were going to look at magazines, but there were several hicks hanging out at the magazine rack (ooooookay), so I headed over to the toys to see if they had any hard-to-find Transformers. Jamie and I ended up in the electronics department (what a surprise), checking out DVDs and video games. Ah, the great things to do in West Virginia… We left and went home after that. Sometime before I fell asleep, I decided to go to my old church in the morning to see if Kelly was there. (Oh, what a story that is—my history with Kelly… Technically, she was my first girlfriend. Even if it lasted only a day.)

I got up Sunday morning, showered and headed to church. I forgot what time services started, so I ended up arriving 45 minutes early. I left and went to the Big Wheel to get some breakfast. The first person I saw was Missy. She was busting tables. She’d been busting tables at the Big Wheel since she dropped out of junior high in the 8th grade after getting pregnant. She was another fellow percussionist in the Alderson band, but I didn’t have time to really get to know her before she got pregnant. We were never buddies. I don’t know if she recognized me or not…but I recognized her, and I felt bad for her. I ate my cheese omelette as fast as I could, left her a gigantic tip and left, wishing her the best.

When I got to the church, I was only the second person there. There was an old woman, who asked me to shoo a bird out of the elevator. My old junior high English teacher showed up and we started talking. I was surprised that he remembered me, Jamie and Jennifer. Kudos to him. He told me that Kelly (who is also his niece) now lived in Morgantown & went to WVU—though I wasn’t clear on whether she was only there during college semesters. (Wait. She’s still in college???) Either way, I was sure she wouldn’t be at church, so I left. I drove around town & ended up at Little General—the gas station, where Jamie, Michael Highlander, and myself rented many horror movies & bought comics. I asked the woman at the counter if she had a phone book. I got Kelly’s number and went outside to use the pay phone. I deposited 50 cents—fifty cents???—and dialed her number. Her mom answered & verified the bad news—Kelly was in Morgantown for the weekend. For the weekend—that’s good to know. I hung up the phone and went back to my parents’ house.

When I got back, it was time to go. We were all going to have lunch in Lewisburg, and my dad and I would leave for NoVA immediately afterwards (Jamie, Bob and mom were staying for the week to paint and unpack). We ate at Applebee’s, and I didn’t see anyone I recognized. Oh, well. I guess it’s unlikely that I’d randomly bump into old friends on some random weekend. I resolved myself to locate the old friends I want to see again & arrange to meet them in the future. There are really only two people I want to see again—Sarah and Kelly. I’d like to see Donna again, but she’s married and living in Arizona. Something tells me she’s gone for good. Sarah and Kelly still technically live in Lewisburg and Alderson—and if there were two girls that really defined junior high and high school for me, it’d be those two. Kelly in junior high; Sarah in high school.

On the way home, I began thinking about all the people I knew who stayed in Alderson—who got random jobs around town & never left to experience the wider world. I wondered if I was really better off than them. Sure, I’ve had more “opportunities” living in a big city & being able to go anywhere and do anything I really want, but in the end, how is my life better? What have I accomplished with my “opportunities” that has any real, eternal significance? Wouldn’t I have been better off with less distractions? To be in a town with less entertainment opportunities and more personal, self-reflecting opportunities? I loved being at my parents’ new place. It was so peaceful. I’d trade in my social weekends here in NoVA to just sit & swing on my mom’s porch for one evening a week. I can’t wait to spend holiday weekends there. Do nothing but be outdoors during the day, watch the sunset from the porch, then read and write in the evenings. That would be wonderful.

If I can reestablish some old West Virginia friendships, I think I’ll be spending a lot of my future time in West Virginia.

On Tuesday, I stopped by the flower shop on the way home from work. I picked up a bouquet of white daisies for Carol (it was her birthday) and a stem for myself. I love white daisies. They’re my favorite flower. I passed by Carol’s house and left them on her porch with a birthday greeting card.

Aside: Since then, I’ve been debating with myself the appropriateness of giving a girl flowers on her birthday. In my experience, it seems to give the wrong impression. Maybe I should start including a disclaimer at the end of the card, saying: “Please note: I like you as a friend.”

This week is apparently “Birthday Week,” because it was Julia’s last Friday, Carol’s on Tuesday, Kelly’s on Friday, and Cheryl’s next Monday. Since Kelly lives in California, I had to prepare early and send her gift out in the mail on Monday. Instead of flowers, I got her a pink Gameboy Advance and a Powerpuff Girls game to go with it. I also sent her a check to help pay for her missions trip (June 14-July 8). I hope she got the package already, because she leaves today. Kelly had this great idea to have a prayer buddy for each day she was on her missions trip. We’d swap prayer requests and each would pray for the other on the specific day of her trip. I chose July 7, because she may be flying back that day, and I’ll be flying back from Cornerstone that day. We could both be flying at the same time and praying for each other. How cool is that?

My friends and I decided to cancel our Kings Dominion trip on Wednesday. It was supposed to thunderstorm, but of course it didn’t. That’s OK, because I used the day off to go shopping and prepare for the Ghoti Hook show that night.

I met Laurel and Stephanie in Tysons Corner at 7 PM, and the three of us rode up to Hagerstown, MD to watch Ghoti Hook’s final DC area show. Though it was a sad night, the three of us had a lot of fun on the trip up and back. It was really easy to talk and joke around with those girls—using clean humor, no less. We even had conversations about theology and witnessing, which was a pleasant excursion from the norm. When we got to the venue, we talked outside with all our friends. We went upstairs for a bit to see Vroom play (so I could finally say I’ve seen them live), but it was so incredibly hot and humid up there; we quickly decided to go back outside. Ghoti Hook got on around 9:30 or so, and everyone went in to rock out. The show itself was really good. The sound was great & the vocals were up. It was great to see all the local Ghoti friends in the crowd. I kept thinking back to Ghoti Hook’s first real show at Drexel University in PA. Between that show and this one, Ghoti Hook’s legacy existed. I was fortunate to have been to both shows—book ending it, if you will. I may not have been with the band on their many tours or during most of their memorable moments, but I definitely supported them throughout the years and was able to experience the band in ways most people never could—as friend, cousin and brother. It’s hard to explain. I’m sad that the band’s over, but my relationship with the members is not. So there’s no goodbye in that sense—just a moving on. There’s always a constant maturation in life. I can’t be sad that the boys are now moving on to the next phase in theirs. I’ll miss the band and going to their local shows, but I’m not disheartened or angry that they’re breaking up.

On Thursday, when I returned to work, I received an email from Diane, telling me that our mutual friend, Liz, just lost her unborn baby—on the morning of her due date. I haven’t seen Liz in forever, but I couldn’t stop feeling crushed and thinking about her & praying for her the entire day. And to think I was going to join Diane and Liz on Tuesday night to see Monsoon Wedding at the art theater in Shirlington. I had wanted to go, if only to see Liz for the first time in almost 10 years, but I didn’t, and now I wish I had. It would have been better to have seen her under happier circumstances.

Thursday night saw the end of the hockey season. The Red Wings won the Stanley Cup, and I’m sure Cheryl was jumping up and down wherever she was. God knows I was. I was cutting up a watermelon in the sink and cheering on the Red Wings. I almost stabbed myself in the eye. (Not really)

Today is Friday, and Cheryl’s having a birthday gathering at the Kingpin in DC tonight. Afterwards some folks will be hitting Nation to dance into the wee hours of the morning. I doubt I’ll go to Nation, but we shall see. I got Cheryl a Red Wings hockey player toy figure (shh…don’t tell!). Hope she likes it.

This weekend seems to be booked. I’ll be helping my mom move stuff down to her new house in West Virginia. It looks to be the end of a long phase in my family’s life. Mom (and dad eventually—when he retires in a couple years) is moving to West Virginia, and Jamie is moving to Florida. Our family will no longer be together (geographically, at least). No more family dinners on Monday nights. No more trips to my parents’ house on lunch breaks to get free food and chat with my mom. I feel like Beth in Little Women. Everyone’s leaving—except me. I have no intention of escaping from northern Virginia. My future is right here.

Today is Tara’s one-year wedding anniversary. She married some guy named Jonathan a year ago at a liberal Presbyterian (USA) church in D.C. and both are now members of a similar church in Philadelphia. How I know this, I can’t say. I haven’t actually seen Tara since 1998. We emailed a couple times after college, but never continued any legitimate friendship after Heroine.

Tara was the original heroine—the inspiration for my initial photo essay, which blossomed into the compilation CD I produced in 1996. She was the receptionist at Broadside, GMU’s student newspaper, which I worked for as the Photo Editor. The one and only reason I worked at Broadside was to see Tara everyday. I would sit in the lobby every spare moment of the day (lulls on production night, between classes, etc.) to talk with her & pretend like I was studying. As an aspiring photographer herself, she often came to me for advice on shooting and printing her black & white photos. I’d bring her back into the dark room for long printing sessions, and eventually I was impressed at the quality of her photos (I still have 3 or 4 of her Georgetown shots I’d like to frame together).

For the 1996 Spring Break issue of Broadside, I was tasked with creating a 2-page photo essay. At this point, I was looking for any excuse to photograph Tara. I asked her if she’d be my Spring Break model, and she happily accepted. I took some random shots of her with handfuls of luggage, her packing up the trunk of my “classic” Subaru station wagon, and her sitting in the passenger seat of the Subaru (which I flipped later in the darkroom to make her look like the driver). They were pretty pointless shots, but I was able to use them in the spread. She was happy to be in the paper, and I was happy that the experience grew us closer as friends. We began hanging out randomly on campus, but never off. I walked her home several times (she lived even closer to campus than I did), and even though she had always been clear about her very serious (and continuing) relationship with her high school sweetheart back in Princeton, New Jersey, by the time summer rolled around, I was head-over-heels, madly in love with her.

After a long summer without her, the Broadside crew finally reunited for the Fall ’96 welcome issue. By this time, I had already come up with the idea for Heroine. I had been taking shots of some of my other female friends during the summer (including Jessica and Lynne, who’s stories will be told eventually). I was hoping to use some of the Spring break pictures of Tara, but I was still lacking a great cover shot. I wanted Tara on the cover, so when I saw her again in the fall, I requested another photo shoot with her in Fairfax City. We did the “University Drive” photo shoot after classes one day, and I was able to get several incredible shots (on the CUE bus, inside Dharma Coffee House, and the money shot in front of the University Dr./Main St. intersection). Of all the women I’ve photographed, she was the most “professional.” I swear, she was a born model. She had no hesitation in posing for photographs in public. She had so much confidence, and I think that’s one of the reasons I was so drawn to her.

A week or so later, I was able to book a local Tae Kwon Do studio for a couple of hours (it involved signing up for one year of lessons—cost $600+). I bought a ton of martial arts accessories (nunchaku, sparing clothes, black belt, etc.), basically making the shoot the most expensive ever for me. Tara and I went in and did the shoot under the supervision of my instructors. (The “master” was hesitant to tie the black belt on Tara, but he got over it.) I took a ton of shots, but I wouldn’t call any of them great. After developing the photographs, I noticed that Tara had her wristwatch on for more than half the shots (and believe me, it looked really out of place). For the remaining shots, my flash completely washed out her punching hands, etc. I ended up not using any of the karate shots for the Heroine CD. I was frustrated about that, and I swore never to shoot in a predominately white setting again (white walls, white skin, white outfit). Even for Tara (whose dark hair, eyes and lips are to die for), the look wasn’t right, and the photographs were useless.

When Heroine was finally released, Tara was so excited. She wanted twenty copies to give to all her family and friends. It was her fifteen minutes, if you will, and I was so pleased to see her enjoying it. Truth be told, if it weren’t for Tara, I never would have made the Heroine CD. It was all for her.

Soon after Heroine, Tara quit working at Broadside. I quit two weeks later. All of a sudden, I never saw her. While we both still went to GMU, we never crossed paths on campus again (except for once between classes during my senior year in 1998). One day, I called her townhouse, and one of her roommates answered and told me Tara had just gone to the hospital emergency room that morning. The timing was stunning. I rushed over to Fairfax hospital to see her late in the day. Her father was in the room when I arrived (he drove down from New Jersey), but he left so that we could talk privately. I brought Tara a print from the karate photo shoot, as well as a small, plastic karate man toy. She smiled and thought that was funny. She told me she had passed out, and that the doctors had to perform surgery to remove something from her body. I told her I was glad she was OK.

When I left there that night, I thanked God for keeping her safe. I never saw her again.

I make it a habit of keeping track of all my important past friends. I’ve been keeping tabs on Tara and have tracked her from Fairfax to D.C. to Philadelphia—simply for my own peace of mind. When I found out last summer that she had gotten married, I pretty much dropped her from my mind completely. She has someone else to look after her now.

If you consider my past infatuation with Tara a “crush,” it was the longest crush I’ve ever had—from 1995 to 1999. From the day I met her, I wasn’t interested in another girl until I met Kelly at Roku. Tara was the one. She was my ideal. She was the first person I seriously wanted to marry.

Now she is married. But not to me. Happy anniversary, Tara.

And goodbye.