The Buried Things

Imagine one of those dramatic scenes where the shovel breaks the dirt, and it is solemnly brought over a hole in the ground. The dirt falls across… something.

You seldom see the body, but you know it’s there. In your head there is something in that grave. There is something getting buried, and there is a moment of tension as you let go of whatever just happened and recognize that for whatever is in that grave- this is the end. And you let it go.

You bury the hatchet. You put things in the past. You let it die. And you can grieve, and you can move on, but nothing will be how it was. This is what it means to bury things. Dead means done, done means not coming back. Freedom, and release, and sorrow, and loss, all in one moment.

Do you have things in your life, that no matter how you grieve them and process them they always seem to come back? I’ve heard countless sermons about letting go, forgiveness, moving on, letting the past be the past. And the sheer number of object lessons attached to those sermons is daunting. The price is paid, a dog doesn't return to its vomit, Lot’s wife “looked back” and you saw what happened to her. I’ve held trinkets in my pocket to remind me that I’ve forgiven people, I’ve carried around heavy luggage, I’ve written things down and nailed them on crosses, set them on fire, dyed them in red coloring, bleached them white.

And yet I was sitting in counseling today, my foot tapping like crazy as I anxiously recalled that one thing that just wouldn’t die.

This is the part of every post where I think to myself, “I wish I could just end it here. I’m not sure I have any good advice to give, and I’m not sure I’m done wrestling with this thing, so let’s just drop the mic and walk away.” But I can’t. Cause this is one of those things that just.
won’t.
die.

And I’m torn, because I celebrate Resurrection Sunday. I think Christ’s resurrection from the grave is the single most important event in the history of humanity.

But I’m also a fan of The Walking Dead. I imagine something rising from the grave as a cold, decomposing horror, that chases me without relent.

So, I have two choices: zombie, or exalted.

Two Truths and a Lie

I am unhealthy. -Truth

I go out of my way to adopt healthy behaviors. -Truth

I am fat. - Lie

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I agree with the Democratic party. -Truth

I agree with the Republican party. -Truth

I am a Republican or Democrat. -Lie

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Today is a good day. -Truth

Today is a bad day. -Truth

How I feel about Today matters. -Lie

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I am right. -Truth

I am wrong. -Truth

I define right and wrong. -Lie


You’re familiar with the game, right? I come up with two things that are true about myself, and then one lie, and you have to guess the lie. I always hated this game, because you always have someone who just cannot come up with anything, and they sit there trying to figure out one thing that is true about themselves and they just can’t.

Then there are the people who you know are lying about all three things, or are at least lying through omission. Like, “oh I totally went to prom with a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model,” which is true, but it’s only half true. They went to prom with someone who was featured in the background of a shot of as an extra, but since they were paid they were technically a Sports Illustrated model, and they were technically wearing a swimsuit, so… truth? (That would still be impressive…) And there are the people who just tell whatever story they can think of to get attention, and it may be true, and really heart breaking, but they kind of forgot this is just a game. Like, “I was adopted from a third world country, and still wake up in the middle of the night crying from memories of my family.” And everyone is just sitting there like, “God, I hope that’s not true, but also- this is a game right? Like, this isn’t counseling?” We’re supposed to say fun things, like- my dog’s name was McPoops cause everytime he ate McDonald’s he would diarrhea on the carpet. I’m not supposed to then finish that story with- “so we put him down, and my parent’s didn’t tell me until I got home from school, and I failed geometry that year because I was so depressed, but no one ever understood why I didn’t do my work, so my parents thought I was stupid and I had to get a tutor, and ever since then I’ve felt like my parent’s think I’m stupid.” Cause that would be super sad, right? (Also, stop feeding McDonald’s to dogs.)

But the point is, that game should be called “Two half truths, and something you wish were true.” Because functionally that is a more accurate title.

We all have a tendency to do that, don’t we?

The Future American Church - or How to Stop Sending and Start Receiving

There are two things I desperately want to write about, and they may not seem to be connected but they really are - promise.

First, Christian Sci-Fi isn’t much of “a thing”.

Christian culture seems to shy away from forecasting future events, unless that forecast ultimately consists of Christ returning and everything else being pointless. The church seems far more concerned with eschatology, and far less concerned with futurology. But the generation coming up in the Western World seems to have rejected the fairy-tales of the Left Behind era, in favor of dreams of self-driving cars, an internet of things, and the implications of 3D printing (or at least I have). For years now this has been perceived as a departure away from Christianity and toward the secular, but I would disagree.

To those Christians who still drive cars with faded NOTW stickers, I share this with you:

Emmett...Ode to an Easy Baby

Dearest Emmett,

Thank you. I can't say thank you enough for what an amazing baby you are. Ever since you were born, you have given me at least 7 hours of sleep a night. Granted, for most of those nights those 7 hours were split into 2-3 chunks, but that's nothing to scoff at! You have been so generous to grant me so much rest and I thank you profusely.

Also, I gotta say, you're not much of a crier. You cry, but only when you need something specific. And it's always either a burp, hunger, or a poop that you're working out. And once in a while you're a little overstimulated. But really, that's it! You also tend to fuss for a while before the actual crying starts, which lets me try to figure out what it is you need before you have actual baby tears running down your face. Those tears are heartbreaking, baby. Also (and you get this from me) you turn beet red. Which is cute, except for the screaming and sweating. Which, again, happens so rarely that I can't even start to complain!

Have You Heard the News? (Everyone’s Talking) Life is Good, cause...

So, the word is out. And it’s true, I’m a pastor again. And there are so many stories I want to share about how it all happened, and what happened, and why it happened… ya know, the happenings, but I am finishing up my finals for the Winter Quarter at Fuller, so I’ll keep this post brief (I just finished the post, and realized it’s not brief at all… sorry).

Back when I got ordained I got a nice fancy piece of paper that said “Alex Jackson is hereby ordained as a Minister of the Gospel”, one of the ladies at the church even took time to decorate it with glitter markers so you knew it was really extra special. When you go through an ordination process it requires that you really consider what God has called you to do, and when I was ordained I knew that it wasn’t just for one church, and it wasn’t just as a Youth Pastor, it was forever. From that day on I was a Minister of the Gospel, no matter the circumstances. It was a call I received from God, and you can’t just be un-called. It’s not like Jonah was chilling in the whale thinking “great! I totally got out of that mess! Now I’ll never have to go to Nineveh.” No, it was more like “well… I guess God does get what He wants.”

But let me tell ya, these last few months tested that to my very core. As I attended Fuller I kept on having to write about my calling and where God wanted me, all the while I was floating around from different jobs, learning how to be a dad, and not know what the future would look like.

Life as a Pastor's Wife...Again

A few weeks ago, Alex was hired as the Youth Pastor at Community Church of Big Bear. With that comes so much joy and excitement, and also reminders of our life before. Before we were so hurt by a church that I didn't know how I would step foot in one again. Before we lost our home, our friends, our security, our dreams. It is bittersweet to be so reminded of the ministry we had in Kansas. This new life in Big Bear has taken the sting and pain that we've been living with since last summer, and even before, and transforming it. God is taking our story of pain and proving to us that He was in it, and that He has so much more than that for us. Our dreams there were small, and He wanted bigger. Our idea of joy was paltry compared to what we are now experiencing, and this new joy is nothing compared to what He has in store for us.

The past 6 months have been so full of change and uncertainty. And that hasn't completely gone away, but I have been seeing God answer prayers that I didn't even have the words to pray. We are being healed at this church in Big Bear. Alex is experiencing affirmation that is so new and foreign to him that he almost can't believe it. We have already been embraced into new friendships with people who are genuine and transparent, the kind of people that I hope I am. We have met an amazing group of youth kids who in so many ways remind us of the kids in Kansas that we loved and still love, but who are also fiercely unique and lovable.

What Works

Now that we've had our little Emmett for almost 2 months, I'm feeling a bit more confident as his mother. We have our routine down, I can interpret his cries, I know when he's about to have a big poop, and we share so many sweet moments throughout every day. He has the sweetest smile and he recognizes my voice and my smell, and it's magical to be his mommy.

I have had some help along the way, and no, I'm not talking about my parents or Alex (although their help is INVALUABLE and I would be lost without them!). I'm talking about baby merch! There are SO many things on the market for moms and their new babies, and it was quite a process shifting though all the options and finding what I wanted... And that was only step one! It matters much more what Emmett wants and what makes him comfortable and happy, and learning that was another process of it's own. So here is my review on the top baby items we have, what works for me and for him, and what I would recommend to new moms everywhere!

1. Fisher-Price My Little Lamb Platinum Edition Cradle 'n Swing : This nifty swing is a lifesaver for Emmett's daytime naps. He LOVES the gentle rocking and the mobile and blue light he looks up at, and most of all the sweet baby songs that I can play at different volumes. I even like listening to the cheesy baby songs. When they're on, I can hum along (I've listened to them hundreds of times now) and they make me feel like there's a baby in the house. (Weird, but I like it). Most of all, this cute swing plugs in. It's on so much that I would go through TONS of batteries if it didn't have an AC adapter. That was the number one thing I was looking for in a swing, and I'm so glad I did. Finally, we've had a few blow-outs (poop everywhere, for those of you who aren't parents) and the fabric lamb that Emmett sits in comes out super easy and is machine washable. This is a must. I would definitely recommend this swing and I'm so grateful to my "aunt" Lisa for giving me this at my baby shower!