Have I mentioned...

Have I mentioned recently that I love kids?

Static Earth? I don't think so.

It was once believes that God had created the whole world, as is, with no changes since the flood. We now know this to be false. Way false. Personally, I think that a dynamic Earth is just that much more impressive a place to live. It is a reminder to me that it is important not to dismiss or disbelieve things I don't understand fully. Simply saying "the world must have always been this way" might have been comforting, but the truth has a way of making it past whatever dams we create to containit.

The linked page has another link to a time-lapse movie over 5 days that lets you see a rock growing out of the ground. I'm a geek, so I found this quite cool, even if it is short.

http://antwrp.gsfc.nasa.gov/apod/ap060509.html

10,000

I just passed 10,000 views of my pictures at Morguefile. That's pretty cool. It's an average of roughly 200 views per picture, though some are much higher, others are much lower. My highest for a sigle picture is 800. Is it a sunset? Lightning? Flowers? No. It's the Ice Stalagmites that formed on my apartment walkway the winter of 04/05.

What a way to start the day

When the first thing you to upon waking Monday morning is to roll over, scream into your pillow, and sob a few times... it does not start the week off well.

When you try praying, not sure for what, but for "help,"as you are so lonely and hurt that you don't know what to do with youself and your snooze alarm goes off to an ad for a Diamond/Jewelry store admonishing you to "[shop there], pop the big question and hear her say (cue breathless woman) 'Yes!'," it has a way of not making a tough start to the morning any better.

But for what it's worth, Sunday night wasn't really that bad. The Bible Study was good, to be discussed more in depth later. And I had a great time after that at Starbucks, and was sorry when it was over. So thanks, Rob, for inviting me. I don't think I've felt that good since around the middle of last December.

...And Guest

I appreciate the thought, really. Putting "Mr. David Schmidt and Guest" on the invitation lets me be assured that I can bring my significant other to their wedding. It is a courtesy, for those who would otherwise wonder if they should invite the Guest. But for me, it's just another reminder of something I really do try not to think about.

There's a dessert social for the "Couples Connection" at my church a week from Saturday. They're trying to make it more inclusive, extending it beyond married folk to those who are dating, engaged, or have been married for a long time. Even "former couples, who aren't in a couple at the moment," according to Jose. When someone tries to broadly define a group to involve as many people as possible, yet you're still excluded from the definition, it heightens the awareness of not-belonging.

And to top it off the Bible Study I've been attending with an eye towards joining on a more permanent basis when it becomes a church (while maintaining the most wiggle room possible) has moved to a park. Two blocks from her house. Funny? Ironic? Observe how very hard I'm not laughing.

Some days, it seems as though God is deliberately jabbing the same pointed stick into my face over and over and over. It really, really isn't funny. I'm trying to deal with the fact that my life won't go in the direction I hoped it would six months ago. I'm trying to accept that, change the things I can, and move on. I'm trying to let the hurt, frustration, and sense of betrayal I feel from God sink into the background. This is hard- I've never been one to let go of things easily. Trying to do so while being constantly reminded of what I'm trying to very hard to forget (at least on a day-to-day basis) is much harder, and may very well be impossible. Maybe it builds character. If character is defined as the size of the hole I'd like to punch in my wall, then I suppose it does.

When the Rain Comes

"When the Rain Comes" is a song I really like by third day. It's simple, soft, and spoke to me the sentiment I hoped to share with my wife someday. To that end, I thought it might be sweet if I were able to play it for her as a promise on our wedding day. But I'm not a naturally talented musician, especially when it comes to plucking out a song on the guitar instead of just strumming some simple chords.

I practiced the song regularly for years, to get the rhythm down, to try and be able to make it natualr enough that I could sing at the same time as I played. I suppose the habit was a way of expressing some belief that I would get married, even when it looked impossible. I don't know that I ever told anyone that I had wanted to do this, because while I needed to premeditate it to pull it off, I wanted it to be special.

This week I played it for a final time on my guitar, and then put the guitar away promising never to play the song again. (That is, of course, unless the world hurtles from its orbit and I have someone to play it for.) No longer believing in the forum I had expected to share it in, I put it here, just because. Lyrics are taken (with minor changes) from this site.

When the rain comes
it seems that everyone has gone away
When the night falls
you wonder if you shouldn't find someplace
To run and hide
Escape the pain
But hiding's such a lonely thing to do

I can't stop the rain
From falling down on you again
I can't stop the rain
But I will hold you 'til it goes away

When the rain comes
you blame it on the things that you have done
When the storm fades
you know that rain must fall on everyone
So rest awhile
It'll be alright
No one loves you like I do

I can't stop the rain
From falling down on you again
I can't stop the rain
But I will hold you 'til it goes away

When the rain comes
I will hold you

Outside

I was going to go to the 18-30something "Home Group" put on by a friend's church this evening. But I didn't. I wanted to go to meet new people, to experience something different, and to not spend the night alone in silence again. I do that most every evening, and it gets old.

It's a friendly group, I imagine, from those I have met before. I have friends that would be happy to see me there. So why did I stay away?

The worship. As is common to many groups, they'll have a person or people whip out the acoustic musical instruments and sing worship songs. I would probably know all the songs, too. But I doubt I could sing them honestly. I could sing the words, but I'd have to close my heart to do so. When I open my heart to God, only one things comes out - or perhaps many things, depending on how you look at it. A uniform blend of lonliness, disappointment, rejection, confusion, lonliness, frustration, and lonliness. I prayed, long, hard, and earnestly about what to do about it, acted on what I thought best even though the sheer terror of it nearly overwhelmed me, and far from making everything better, it seems to have screwed up at least three dimensions of me feeling connected to other people. No. Make that four.

When I open up to God, this amalgamation of feelings leaves me close to tears. In worship, in prayer, in anything. I think about God, I'm incapacitated.

I'd like to rebuild a social life, and not be left alone with my thoughts. But if the barrier to entry is a Bible Study in the greet-sing-study mold, I don't know if I can do it. There were times in the past that I could put on a happy face, and I'd like to say that I am taking the high road and renouncing pretending. The truth is I just can't. I don't have the reservoir of not-angst to pull from to sustain such an effort.

And please, please, don't anybody ask me to pray aloud. If I were to do so, I fear I might say what I feel not all the time, but fairly often (edited for innocent eyes):

Dear God,
F*** You
Amen

I don't feel like I belong in church, in that I don't feel like I belong in a land full of those who are satisfied, happy, and singing of the wonderful goodness of God. If church can be a place for those who can't pray the proper prayers, don't really know if they can ever trust God again, and are strongly tempted to go out the doors and never return, that's probably the place for me.

Dogs can be trained to detect cancer

Don't believe it? Neither did I, until I read this. The results for breast cancer were even more accurate than mammograms. Crazy.

One of those days

Bad days come and go. Today feels like one of the former. Wrong side of the bed or something, I guess. I have had a spate of discouraging dreams lately. That probably contributes to it as well. So... tell me a joke or something. I could use the laughs.

Pictures, and Narrative

I started a new blog. There's a link on the left, or you can just click here. I am aiming for a more... tangible response. I'm also trying to strike a balance between learning from disappointments I have faced, dealing with them at face value, as they have affected my life, but not simply wallowing in them.

I aim for each post there to be a single thought, story, or other chain of events that are connected in my mind. Also (for the time being), all pictures there are my own. Be impressed. Tell me how impressed you are. It'll make my day.

Even better, go to Morguefile.com, download some of my pictures, print them, and frame them in your house. That will really make my day.