The Power of Ten

It seems to me that we’re so individualistic nowadays that we don’t understand that there are bigger ramifications to our actions then just us. Back during the siege of a city in Persia, Alexander the Great called to the ruler of the city, “Give up, open your gates, and you’ll be spared destruction.” The ruler answered, “Why would I do that? My gates are strong and my walls are tall and thick.” Alexander then ordered his warriors to assume a line formation facing a cliff and ordered them to march forward. Ten of them plummeted headlong into a ravine, dying on impact. When the ruler saw this, he cried out “Stop! We will surrender the city.” When he saw that Alexander's men were willing to die for him so willingly, he knew it was hopeless. At the same time, Alexander knew that by killing ten men, he’d be sparing countless thousands in what would be a bloody and destructive siege.

We all see the logic in this situation. Ten dead is better than a ruined city and a damaged army of thousands. But ask yourself. Are you willing to be one of the ten?

Universal Remote

Can you imagine if we had a remote control for our lives? Some of us would wear out the fast forward button, skipping the boring or sad parts ahead to the fun times, the parties, weddings, honeymoons, accomplishments. Others, like me, would be hitting the ‘pause’ button all the time, looking at a situation from every angle and deciding exactly what, how, and when to do the best thing. The fact that time waits for no man is a great incentive to address whatever issues you have, because right now is the perfect opportunity.

What do you think?

Prayer or Prescriptions?

So I'm reading Esquire at work one night, right? I ran across their monthly segment called "A Thousand Words About our Culture". It was a writer by the name of Stephen Marche, and he was talking about how our culture has taken bad behavior and, instead of attributing it to the corruption of human nature, rebranded it as a symptom of ever more prevalent psychological disorders or pathological ailments. Our newfound fascination with t.v. shows about people with personality disorders and poor coping skills "[blur] the line between what is sick and what is bad", Marche said. "For millennia", he continues, "Western culture had a very simple system for dealing with bad actions. You sinned, you recognized it, you decided you wanted to change, and you were redeemed. This neat little system was called Christianity. Now "sins" are called "bad choices," and for the price of a stay at Hazelden or Pine Grove, redemption comes in the form of rehab."So when did we get this crazy idea that pills were better than prayer? And why are Christians buying into it?

The real question is, what are we being taught about how to live our faith? As Christians there are things we're taught that we ought to do. There are obligations that we ought to fulfill. We ought to pray, we ought to tithe, we ought to go to church, we ought, we ought, we ought.

As a teenager I learned that when 'ought' is put up against, well, just about anything, it's gonna lose about seven times out of ten. If there's a strong desire to do the right thing present within us, then we'll do what we 'ought' with a bit more consistency, and if we fear the ostracism of a group, then we'll stay on the straight and narrow even more. Those two things, a desire to do the right thing and a fear of ostracism, are constantly battling in the heart of every human being, but especially the Christian. Many of the things that the Christian life demands of its adherents are demanding, strenuous and unpleasant. Someone might get through them, might abstain from an easier path, through sheer determination to do what he 'ought'. But in my humble opinion, this isn't the way it 'ought' to be.

As Christians, we believe that Christ died as an atonement for our sins, and that through Him we are justified before the Father. We believe that, when God looks down upon us, He does not see our brokenness, our illnesses, our weakness before temptation, et cetera, but instead sees the righteousness of Christ, because we believe in Him.

So, given this, what 'ought' we do? What did Christ himself have to say? When the crowd, still full from the miraculous provision of bread and fishes, asked, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.” So what exactly does it mean to believe? Well, it's pretty simple, really. You sorta gotta buy into it. And the craziest thing happens when you do that. It's not so logical or rational a thing, but no less real for all that. You begin to change from the inside.

"But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so much, that even though we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead. (It is only by God’s grace that you have been saved!) For he raised us from the dead along with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ Jesus. So God can point to us in all future ages as examples of the incredible wealth of his grace and kindness toward us, as shown in all he has done for us who are united with Christ Jesus.

God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2: 4-10, NLT


That last part gets me. We are created anew, so that we can do the good things that He planned for us to do. The problem is, it's a two step process. If we're not cooperating with the execution of these good plans, then there's not gonna be a whole lot of transforming going on. Maybe that's why we hold out against forgiveness, and continue to sit in judgment over ourselves. Maybe we don't want to owe anyone anything. But the truth is, we're never gonna break free of the mire we're so firmly lodged in unless we reach out and accept the helping hand.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that when you're saved, and experience that transformation within yourself, then 'ought to' becomes 'happy to', because they're now acts of loving gratitude.


Just something to think about.

Check out that article I mentioned here: http://www.esquire.com/features/thousand-words-on-culture/psychology-tv-shows-0810#ixzz173AfCztu

No Reception, Or, Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls

Ever had your phone fall into a waterfall as you scaled a mountain? Well, I have. It all started when I heard that some of the people I was having Thanksgiving with were heading up to Hanging Rock to hike to the waterfalls there. Now, as soon as I heard that my mind went to two places. The first centered on the presence of pretty girls, and the second centered on my lack of physical prowess. I was sort of athletic once upon a time, but a broken ankle and a twinkie fetish have made the battle of the bulge into a war of attrition. I spent two days dreading this fateful event, and used a great deal of brainpower to conjure up very realistic images of myself doubled over beside the trail, a river of sweat and failure flowing down the path, the girls laughing and the guys shaking their heads at my total failure to complete even the tamest of outdoorsy tasks. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my short tenure here on planet Earth, it’s that my powers of imagination are sharply enhanced by my fear of failure. We got in the car and headed up, running into, of all places, a Hicks Pharmacy, and once we got to the park I began to steel myself for the humiliation ahead. Since we didn’t get cell reception, Drew suggested that we put our phones on airplane mode so that they wouldn’t continually scan for a signal and wear down their batteries. This turned out to be a fortuitous decision. We set off down the trail, the four girls walking ahead and the guys behind, and went down the first trail. Ok, so far so good. No hemorrhages. Checked things out, took some pictures, then back up the trail to the crossroad. Here the challenge began. Uphill is a little tougher than downhill, but we made it. Then we got to hidden falls, and I started climbing on stuff. I found that my fears had been so far unjustified- or maybe I was just being blindly optimistic, I thought. The real threat was still ahead. But, as I came to find, I was up to the task. Nothing is so pleasant as finding oneself equal to something daunting, even if the daunt is all in one’s head. But I digress.

After an hour or so, I was feeling so cocky that I decided to scale the waterfall and make it back up that way instead of following the trail. Johnny followed, and soon we were high on a bluff, waiting for the others to catch up. As I surveyed the landscape, master of my domain, my Saxon ancestors smiling upon their mighty scion, I heard a voice from the trail. “Hicks!” Nonplussed, I answered the mere mortal with a nonchalant “What?” “Do you have your phone?” How dare this peon challenge my epic climbing skills? I felt in my pocket, only to discover… “No…” I answered, weakly. “I found it in a puddle…so…”

Fart!

Someone suggested that I put it in rice, which is what we did when we got back. But the true challenge still lay ahead. Getting back up the mountain, like so many challenges in my life, turned out to be nothing at all like the mental picture I had, and everyone was able to make it without incident. Johnny and I even had a footrace to the car on the last stretch, which I (barely) lost. But I’m pretty sure he cheated, or something. Anyway, there are two morals to this story. The first is, assess the challenges you face realistically, and have confidence in your abilities, and second, and most important, if you dare to climb higher to reach your true potential, then make sure your pockets are zipped shut. Because even if you have insurance, it’s a long way down.

Oh, and bring matches. Not because it’s a metaphor, but, y’know. So you’ll have matches.

Chaos, or, Why Ham is Always Important

Ever find yourself running down a dark street in your stocking feet with a slab of ham? Well, I have. It all started when my cousins came to my grandmother’s house last weekend. They’re moving to France for a new job, and this was one of their last stops before the airport. I decided to stay the night, and I started getting sleepy about midnight. I hit a second wind, though, and around 01:45, after I had flipped through the channels a few times, their dog Chaos came around and wanted to go out. Like an idiot, I assumed that the dog had a lick of sense and opened up the back door. She did her business, and then proceeded to perform an olfactory scan of the entire backyard. I called, called, called, whistled, begged, called again, but she wouldn’t be distracted from her mission. It was freezing out, and I only had socks on. Finally, she started heading toward the gate, and I got worried. She ran all around the neighbor’s yard, and then started toward the street, and that was when full panic set in. I ran back into the house to the kitchen. “Crap…crap…crap…what do dogs eat?!” I grabbed some ham from the meat drawer and rushed back out, scanning frantically until I saw the dark form of a dog trotting under a streetlight. I tasked my subconscious mind with formulating an explanation for why their dog had been smashed by a vehicle and took off running. After an all out wind sprint over about twenty yards, I finally caught up. ‘Hey! Hey! Look what I’ve got!” But she wasn’t interested. Finally, I reared back and slapped her across the face with the slab of ham. She got the message and started chowing down. Without losing the moment I scooped her up, all 35 pounds of her, and started back toward the house. I’m not sure if the neighbors saw my hulking form, clutching a panting dog, walking down the street at two in the morning in socks and a t-shirt, but judging by the lack of sirens, I’m thinking not. I haven’t quite come up with a moral for this story yet, but I’m thinking it’ll be along the lines of “Never let anything out that you’re not willing to chase down.” Either that or “You never know when you’ll need some Ham.”

Divine Dialysis

Ok, I have to admit this up front, but I'm awfully proud of this topic. It first came to me as I was watching House one night, and then crystallized during a phone conversation I had with Drew Anderson.

Here's what happened. I was sitting one night at work, my rounds and projects having been completed, and I was thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I had a job interview coming up, and I was thinking about how this or that detail could undermine everything I've worked towards. My ability to meticulously analyze and reason through things is an asset sometimes, but like any computer, my brain spits out solutions based only on the data I feed to it. As any programmer knows, garbage in, garbage out. I mostly try to stick with the facts as I see them when I give myself things to process, and the problem with that is the facts as I see them are always either incomplete or I jump to the worst-case scenario.

It always troubles me how turning to God for solutions is about fifth on my list of crisis management steps- first being reasoning through it, ruminating second, third obsessing, and fourth usually being vodka and cigars. But I remembered a scene in Evan Almighty where Morgan Freeman says to Evan's wife, "If you ask God for patience, is He gonna zap you with patience, or would He provide you with an opportunity to be patient?" It seemed to me as I sat obsessing (vodka and tobacco being unavailable at work) that everything was falling apart. I allowed my analysis of the situation, based on incomplete and pessimistic data thought it was, to cloud my attitude. Instead of an opportunity to advance myself, get better pay and hours, and capitalize on the discipline and fortitude it took to get myself there, I was focused, not even on what was wrong, but what might go wrong.


"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

I thought to myself, "Hicks (I refer to myself in the third person in my inner monologue), quit being an idiot. Every time we've had this angst about what will happen, not only have our fears never come true, but the situation turned out better than we could ever expect again and again. When are you gonna get that God is in control?"

But, I don't trust easily. Like Reagan, I trust but verify. It occurred to me that this was my Evan Almighty moment. I was asking for Faith, and instead of hurling a fideistic lightning bolt down from Mt. Zion, the Lord was allowing me an opportunity to follow through. So I prayed about it. I thanked the Lord for the opportunity to work a job, to support my needs, for the love and support of friends and family, for getting to live in the dream come true that is America, and for working things in my life out in the best possible way, despite my myriad sabotage attempts. I reminded the both of us that I understood and acknowledged His influence along my path, and expressed my confidence that whatever He had for me would be more than satisfactory. Like Saul, though, I was doing what my hands found to do, and I told Him that, if what I was seeking was the best thing, then bless my efforts, and if not, then frustrate them and point me to the door He would open.

The strangest thing began to happen. I became settled and calm. The buzzing insect in my head stopped, and after a while I even became lighthearted. It made no sense...in other words, it transcended my understanding.

Now for the awesome metaphor. I was watching House, and they were doing a procedure called plasmaferesis. It involves pumping blood out of the body, running it through a machine that scrubs it clean of toxins and contaminants, and pumping it back in. That night as I laid my burden down at His feet, my spirit was put through divine dialysis, and came back to me washed clean. And all without a catheter.

So. It would seem once again that I'm to settle into a holding pattern until the news of my victorious graduation breaks and I burst forth into that new and exciting chapter of my ongoing narrative. August means new apartment, and new semester, and December means new degree and new options. For now, though, it means no new movement for at least two months, and no major game changers for seven months, and that, dear friends, is terribly depressing.

Endeavor to persevere. That's what Lincoln would say. What cannot be changed must be borne, would be the Duke of Wellington's advice. And my man, Rommel? Sweat saves blood. Do the hard work while you're in a safe and stable position so you won't have to do it when you're stretched to the limit and under pressure from all sides. Having gone through that, I'm eager to avoid it, even if it means living so far beneath my means as to almost nullify any advantage of a job at all.

But, here's the rub. I was never trained for this sort of day in, day out drudgery. My family traveled often, and my Dad's living was made partially from a job but partially from a dynamic flow of sales and projects. I used to long for the stability of a steady job, and now I'm enjoying the lack of headaches that stability entails. But I find that it doesn't well suit my temperament. My job is far below my potential and on a given night I utilize little to no administrative or problem-solving ability, despite my studies and intellectual background. It's a sign of the times that I'm in such a position, and I'm very thankful to not only have a job but one that pays a living wage. With all that being said, though, as I come up on the 8 month mark I find that as my morale on the job slides steadily downward I find it more and more difficult to get out of bed at all.

I'm bound by duty and principle to do the best job I can for as long as I find myself employed, which entails following instructions and completing my assigned tasks. But my tasks range from the mundane to the non-existent, and while monitoring the radio for emergency calls serves a vital purpose, the lack of those calls night in and night out, with no end in sight, is a pitiful waste of my capacity to contribute. There is little elan or panache involved when one is rolling a cart from A to B, or emptying containers, or even handling hazardous chemicals. There was once some scant glamour in recounting my encounters with Hexavalent Chromium and Anhydrous Isopropyline, but any such illusions have given way to the same drab concrete night after night after night. The sunlight extending until 20:30 was a morale boost at first, but now it just means it's too hot to walk my rounds, and it's best to just wait until dark anyway.

To sum up, I can't do anything big until I graduate, and that'll come in December. I'm thankful to have a job, but it's monotonous and tedious, and my capacity to endure it is beginning to show signs of strain. Something has to change, or I'll begin to unravel, and that's not a pleasant thing. Maybe a vacation?

Breathing the night air as the moment of pleasure taken

In pleasure vanishing seems to grow, its self-soiling

Beauty, which can only be what it was, sustaining itself

A little longer in its going, I think of our own smooth passage

Through the graded partitions, the crises that bleed

Into the ordinary, leaving us a little more tired each time,

A little more distant from the experiences, which, in the old days,

Held us captive for hours.

From "Our Masterpiece is the Private Life", by Mark Strand


Maybe it's the Protestant in me, but it seems like I'm wasting my life away. I feel as though a disproportionate amount of my time is spent doing idle, inane things, instead of working to achieve my goals and potential. I work 40 hours a week, and go to University part time, but those things have become so normal after all this time that it almost feels like they don't even count anymore. And since work appears to be here to stay for the time being, I'll have to learn to live a meaningful and productive life, despite the drain on my time and energy.

My job could be productive and meaningful, it just isn't. That's alright, in many respects. It serves a very important function, and while I'm there doing it I'll do it to the best of my abilities. I'll follow instructions and try to get along with everyone. But a position more suited to my skill set would be nice. A situation where I didn't have to seek fulfillment and productivity elsewhere. I do a lot of sitting, despite my efforts to be more active.

It's times like this, when I feel sluggish and ineffectual, that I need to reflect on my accomplishments. I've lost about thirty pounds since I started walking and adjusting my diet. I've managed to provide for myself the basic necessities, like food, water, clothing, and shelter, after needing to have them provided to me for most of my life. I've already read three books this year, I'm halfway through another, and partway through a couple more. When I have free time, I generally spend it with pleasant, intelligent people. I've even begun to branch out a bit. I just paid cash for my car not too long ago, and own it free and clear, something not everyone can claim.

But these things aren't really doing it for me right now. The Christian is thankful and content. The American is restlessly ambitious, ever striving for more and better. What of the American Christian? Is he a contradiction?

That's a question for a different night. Tonight, this is what I think. Love is not a feeling, but a choice. I have chosen to love life. It would be childish and naive of me to think that it'll all be rainbows and unicorns all the time. But, really. Can't I feel good about things every once in a while? Come on.

This how much I've lost so far. Check it out:

You entered 22 pounds (10 kilograms).
22 pounds is the average weight of a 9-12 month-old baby boy .
How Much Fuel Is That?
To lose that amount of fat would mean to burn 77,000 calories or 322,168 KiloJoules! That is the equivalent of 2.53 gallons of gasoline. Humans, however, are far more efficient than cars, getting about 912 "miles to the gallon". If you could dump this many calories into the tank of a Honda Civic, you would be able to drive it about 84 miles before running out of gas!
Let's see how your goal would convert to other forms of fuel. 77,000 calories is equivalent to:
2.53 gallons of gasoline, or
27.54 pounds of coal, or
38.24 pounds of oven-dried wood, or
3.43 gallons of propane
This amount of energy would ...
Brew about 215 pots of coffee, or
Light a 60-watt light bulb for 1,492 hours ( 62 days = 0.23 years)
Cutting 77,000 calories is the same as saying "no" to:
963 apples, or
770 bananas, or
4,529 cups of cabbage (whew!), or
531 baked potatoes, or
963 large eggs, or
642 cups of 2% milk, or
55 pounds of ground beef, or
885 glasses of wine, or
238 Snickers bars, or
321 Clif Bars ( 428 Luna Bars), or
554 cans of Coke, or
453 pints of Guinness beer, or
157 Big Macs, or
150 Quarter Pounders with Cheese, or
110 Whoppers, or
233 Subway 6" Oven Roasted Chicken Breast sandwiches, or
453 Taco Bell crunchy tacos, or
328 slices of pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut
What it Takes to Burn 77,000 Calories
To burn 77,000 calories, a 190 pound male would have to:
Backpack for 127 hours (5 days) nonstop, or
Walk for 295 hours (12 days) at 3 mph straight, or
Walk 885 miles (553 kilometers), or
Bike for 223 hours (9 days) at 10 mph, or
Bike 2,232 miles (1,395 kilometers), or
Play basketball nonstop for 123 hours 5 days), or
Play billiards for 356 hours (15 days), or
Go bowling for 297 hours (12 days), or
Stay on the golf course for 223 hours (9 days), or
Spend 99 hours (4 days) playing competitive football, or
Jump rope for 94 hours (4 days) straight!
You would have to walk the length of England about 1.53 times to burn 77,000 calories.


The range for safe weight loss is about 1 to 3 pounds of fat per week. It could take anywhere between 7 to 22 weeks (2 to 5 months) to safely and reasonably lose that amount of weight.

If this is how much you've already lost, congratulations!

Check this out:

Starting BMI- 41.14
BMI now- 39.19

That's two full percentage points. Booyah.

Wrapped up a few loose ends this week. Paid my car off, got my mattress set to form a complete bed, got the apartment cleaned up, some on Friday and some with Mike tonight. The new school year starts Tuesday, and I'm anticipating a tough last semester. I'm getting my head in the game. It's too important to lose focus now. Weight-loss is going alright, although it isn't proceeding as quickly as I had imagined. I'm going to need to find new ways to stay active. My ankle's been a bit sore recently from all the walking I've been doing, so maybe I can burn calories some other way. Staring contest, anyone?