"Make Yourself at Home"

You know that awkward moment when you go visit a friend or family member's house to stay for a night or two, and they leave you with the phrase, "Make yourself at home," which leaves you with the awkward thought of, "Do they really want me to do that?"

There aren't a lot of places on this earth that I would feel comfortable sitting in my underwear, sprawled out on a couch dropping Oreo cookies into a glass of milk and eating them with a spoon while I watch Netflix. After all, I'm a 24-year-old male trying to live a professional lifestyle.

There is one place to do feel comfortable doing that though, and that place is home.

There's something about crossing the barrier of those four walls surrounding all my belongings and life that release the tension of caring what the world around you thinks about you. As soon as I come home and open the door, I can immediately start to relax. I don't worry about how I look, what I'm wearing, and if we're being honest, how I smell. Home is a place where comfort goes to new levels and safety feels almost guaranteed, and really, there's only one place you can feel that and that's at your own home.

There's a big difference between a friend telling me to make myself and home and me really feeling at home. Sure, a lot of it has to do with not being able to freely walk around half naked in someone else's house, but it also has a lot to do with feeling comfortable and secure, not just in the house, but in yourself. A home is a place where you feel completely okay being yourself- no masks, fronts or pretending to be someone else to impress someone. Walking into your home is like taking your shoes off after a long day of being on your feet; it's freedom.

Really, we all have a desire and a need for 'home.' We all want a place we feel protected, at peace and, more than anything, accepted and loved. The hard thing is knowing that not everyone has that kind of 'home' and knowing that even when people do, sometimes they try to make their home more about the things inside it rather than the things it represent. Not everyone has a place they can come to and feel safe and accepted, and not everyone can feel safe and accepted when they do have a place they call home; however, what can we do about it?

We can accept, protect and love others. 

Home isn't just a physical place; it's a feeling and a sense being truly loved for who we really are. It isn't a stationary structure; it's a gift we can carry with us wherever we go and share with others around us.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Inviting others into your home is inviting them into acceptance. 

When Having No Emotions Turns Into Ignoring Your Emotions

It's one week after our nation's celebration of independence and freedom, and it's almost as if that celebration never happened. It's been a long week in America . . . heck, it's really been more of a long month. With all the tragedy in Orlando, all the police brutality and police shootings, not to mention one of the craziest presidential campaign seasons anyone could've ever imagined, it's no wonder it feels like the United States is spinning out of control. Out of all this, I haven't really known how to feel, what to think or how to respond, but for some reason, something my friend, Clark, said on social media has stuck out to me the most: 

"More than Freedom or Equality, Violence is the true American way. It's all we know. It's not a new issue. America is literally built on the bones of indigenous peoples. One nation under God. Or is it a nation under guns, racism, war, money, slavery, and genocide?"

That right there is a bold statement. It's critical, controversial and to make some people upset, but it also makes you think and ponder the weight that it holds. Is it true? That may depend on who you ask. It is false? Definitely not completely; however, what it is is thought provoking and emotional. 

In what has been a week full of emotion in the United States, I haven't felt hardly any emotion at all. I've been spiritually absent, lacking any desire to read, pray or worship, and other than occasionally checking the news to see what the latest developments are on the issues surrounding the country, I haven't done anything to even think about what's been going on all around me. I've isolated myself from all things uncomfortable and challenging and surrounded myself with things and activities to distract me from the reality that exists and begs for my attention. I've tried to pause spirituality, ignore problems that larger than life and above all, avoid emotional attachment and feeling emotion to anything. 

It wasn't until I read the above sentence from my friend that I finally felt some sort of real, raw emotion to everything that's been going on in the world around me. It's not a quote directed at any specific event that's happened over the past month, but it's a quote that kind of tries to encompass all that's been going on. I'm not sure why that quote pinged my emotions like it did and woke them up from their hibernation. Maybe it was because I wasn't sure whether I agreed with it or not or because it is so bold or because it came from someone my own age that I look up to. Whatever it was, it really woke me up, and I hope it does the same for you.

It's not healthy to ignore emotions or pause spirituality just because the world's and life's problems seem too big. Emotions are meant to be felt and dealt with- that's why they're natural, and ignoring spirituality because you hate thinking about a God Who is in control letting all this happen is even more stressful and overwhelming than ignoring that God completely. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Feel emotion, deal with emotion, reveal emotion. 

Bypassing Freedom for Fireworks

I've never really understood Independence Day.

 For as long as I can remember, Independence Day aka, July 4th, has always just been a day in the hottest part of the summer where people go to the lake, cook hot dogs, eat s'mores and make explosions in the sky. It's been a holiday, like most other holidays, that I look forward to because of the parties, the plans and the people more so than I do actually looking at the reason that there's a day to celebrate to begin with. In fact, the way I usually celebrate July 4th simply consists of determining where I want to go celebrate it, what red, white and blue color scheme I want to where and whether or not its legal to shoot off fireworks at the location I'll be at on said day of celebration. Very rarely have I ever and do I ever take the time to think about Independence day really is or what it means.

Growing up, I spent nearly every July 4th the same way: a group of friends and I would make our way out to a country fireworks stand, spend a couple hundred dollars of our own money on what we thought would make for an amazing fireworks show, and then we would all drive out to the family farm and proceed to blow things up for 5 or 6 hours late into the night, always testing the limits of who could hold a firecracker in their hand the longest before throwing it at someone and making it explode right behind them while we stuffed our faces with hot dogs, coke and s'mores. One of my friends even stuffed firecrackers into the exhaust pipe of one of our trucks and lit them on fire, which looking back now seems just as crazy as it did then. Anyway, my independence days have never really consisted of much reflection or thankfulness, but have mostly consisted of fireworks, friends and food. 

As a 24-year-old millennial, I speak for myself, not my whole generation, when I say that I really feel like I miss out on what the meaning of Independence Day really is. It seems like July 4th is just another day to throw a party, and I often blow past the freedom for the fireworks. Do I think it's wrong to celebrate the freedom we have? No way. Not at all. Do I think that the celebrations we get to have and get to experience as families, friends and a nation are 'overshadowing what we should really be focusing on?' No. That's not it either. These celebrations and this holiday are only happening because of the freedom we have in America, and this is one of the few days out of the year that our country seems to be more united than divided by politics. July 4th is a special day, but I just hope I can learn to realize that it's a special day more so because of the freedom we have more so than just the perks to freedom. 

The freedom in American comes at a big cost. Thousands and thousands of people have lost their lives over hundreds of years to ensure that we can grill hotdogs in our backyards with families and friends. We've had some amazing leaders that have had to make some difficult decisions to guarantee that our nation can still gather one day a year together in unity to watch explosions in the sky as we celebrate the lives of those who defend the place we call home. 

Freedom, much like love, is easy to celebrate, but is hard to gain and even harder to understand the depths of. As a nation, we are grateful for it, but hopefully more so than that, we can begin to understand it so we can be all the more grateful. Don't bypass the freedom for the fireworks, but realize it's because of that freedom that we get to do what we do (unless you live in the city limits).

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Don't bypass freedom just for the fireworks. 

A Lesson From Ticks

A few weeks ago, some friends and I went for a hike through the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve in Pawhuska, Okla. The hike was only a mile and a half, if that, so it wasn't anything too extreme; it was more of just a leisurely morning trot with friends to catch the sunrise and get some photos; however, it's because of this leisurely mindset that I experienced one of the grossest things of my life.

*Reader discretion is advised*

With Oklahoma summers come Oklahoma ticks and mosquitos. With ticks and mosquitos come bug bits, itches and in the extreme cases, weird diseases. In my case on this summer hike, I got the ticks, literally dozens of them. Now, because we went out for a 'leisurely' hike in the morning and because I'm not a mom, I didn't think to bring any sort of bug spray. It's just not in my 24-year-old nature to think of bringing along bug spray first and for most. My priorities tend to be more along the lines of 'will there be food, and if not, I need to bring some.' Anyway, long story long, I didn't get bug spray, so I got ticks. 

Now, after the hike, my friends and I must have pulled off 20+ tickets among all of us, and after I got home and checked myself over in the privacy of closed doors, I even pulled a few more off me. After that inspection and a shower, I felt I was tick free and good to go . . . fast forward two weeks later:

I'd noticed that one of the places on my leg that I'd pulled a tick off of was still really red and really swollen and was only getting worse day by day. I was on beach trip with a couple of medical students when this flair up started happening, so I asked them about it. They said it definitely wasn't lime disease (blessings) and that I was probably just semi allergic to the tick bites and that the swelling would go down soon. They were right. Day by day after that, the swelling started to go down and the redness went away. 

It was a few days after I'd gotten this good news from the med students that I woke up one morning, looked down at my leg and noticed the bite was completely healed except for a small scab that was left behind from what I assumed was my scratching. Like any normal human that likes picking scabs, I wanted the bite to be completely healed looking, so I picked the scab . . . and then it crawled away.

It wasn't a scab. It was a tick, and that little guy had been living in my leg for TWO WEEKS. 

This was one of the most disgusting things to think about that had ever happened to me, and I was completely unaware of it. I was oblivious to the little stranger who lived with me for fourteen days; he probably could've stayed longer if he wanted, but I guess like all vacations, it got old, so he went home.

The lesson I learned from this long (disgusting) experience is pretty short and simple: We're not always aware of those around us who are really depending on us. 

Like this tick was depending on me for food and shelter without me even realizing it, how many other people (or insects?) are depending on me for things that I'm completely unaware of? It's simple to get into the rhythm of life and not notice all that we're doing that others rely on. Maybe it's writing the checks to pay the bills or simply planning out a week's worth of meal prep. The truth is, the people closest to us are depending on us, and we're depending on them with so many things just to make life seem normal. It's not until those dependencies get taken away that we usually realize just how depending we really are and how much others are depending on us. In reality, we're all at least a little dependent, and because of that, we should all be at least a little thankful. Depend on others, just as they depend on you.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Don't forget the bug spray. 

The Small Town Slow Down

It's 3:19 a.m., and it's 85 degrees outside with a humidity of 55 percent. Oklahoma heat is no joke- especially this time of the year.

I'm laying in my bed on top of the sheets in my old childhood bedroom because I'm visiting home for the weekend to celebrate Father's Day with my parents. Since I moved out and left this bedroom six years ago, not much has changed. The walls are a little bearer, and some of the furniture has changed, but other than that, my parents have insisted that "my room will always be my room," and they've done their best to keep it that way. Since last time I was here though, mom (now sporting Chacos) has put in a new clock on the wall above my bed. It's not a digital clock, but instead it's one of those clocks that you can hear tick with every passing second.

I think that's why I'm awake- I'm currently physically aware of every passing second and aware of just how slowly those seconds seem to be passing.

I'm not sure if it's the clock, or if it's the knowledge of not being able to sleep that's making me aware of just how slowly the seconds are passing. I've never really been aware of it before, but right now, I'm completely tuned in to every ticking sound of time and it's trickling speed.

It's a cliche that big cities are where life speeds up and that small towns are where life slows down. Duncan, the town my parents house is in with my old bedroom and new clock, is a small town, and life and time really do seem to slow down here. The cars drive slower, the people speak slower and life moves slower. Things like being in a hurry seem to be non-existent, and you can always hear a clock ticking.

I like this slown down lifestyle though- maybe not permanently, but definitely in doses. I always learn something from it. I learn how doing things fast doesn't always mean they get done right and how doing things slow allows time for other, more important things. I learn patience and kindness from the people, and I learn that just cause a place is a small town, it doesn't mean that it doesn't contain people with big capabilities and big dreams.

Small towns may have a slower pace of life, and time may seem to stand still there at times, but they sure are places that can reset a fast-paced life style. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Cities do to your heart what a double shot of coffee does, but a small town will sink you like a smooth, slow drink of whiskey. 

'Brand' New

Waking up early in the morning is hard- not to mention waking up at all; however, there's something special about waking up early in the morning- You get to experience the freshness that comes with a new day. The birds are going crazy singing their songs, there's loads of fresh scents in the breeze, and there's always this crisp, new feeling in the air that disappears as mid-day draws closer. There's just something about waking up and experiencing the first fruits of the newness of a new day that's all the reward for forfeiting a couple extra hours of sleep. 

With that, here's to welcoming in a fresh, new start to a new year of 'Cliff Notes.' After a month of rebranding, redesigning and revamping the blog with a new look and new mission, I'm excited to be getting back to writing and inspiring others to write, as well. I'm hoping the new look, feel and direction brings in the same feelings that a new day brings in. I'm hoping readers can experience the grace, freshness and uniqueness that each new day brings within each new post, and I'm hoping 'Cliff Notes' can start to spark more storytelling, more creativity and more community.

Take a look around, enjoy and look for something new each week.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Starting fresh feels great. It's after the freshness is gone that the real work begins.

Owning Your Awkwardness

This just in: Awkwardness isn't just for middle schoolers anymore. 

Last night, I watched a 145 ibs, rail of a full-grown, white male dance around someone's living room to a cover of Elton John's 'Tiny Dancer' in a completely serious manner. As he pranced around, the lights sent flares of glare off his glasses, and his tucked in shirt slowly began to untuck itself from all of the unexpected movement. After the song was over, he stopped dancing, tucked his shirt back into his pants, adjusted his glasses and returned to his seat like nothing at all had even happened. 

There's a word that society likes to use to describe the situation and the individual above. It's a word that many of us are terrified to be labeled under and a word that many of us fear, but I think we all know what word it is I'm talking about: The word 'awkward.'  

For many of us, myself included, we would be terrified to be the individual losing their mind to 'Tiny Dancer' in a room full of people we don't know, unless of course, we had been prompted by too many alcoholic beverages (in that case, bring on the awkward). But for most people, being sober and being awkward at the same time are deep social fears. I know for me personally, if I'm ever labeled as being awkward, or ever worse socially awkward, I rethink my every move from the interaction and make sure to do whatever it is I just did again. However, what if being awkward shouldn't be something that we fear, but instead was something we owned. 

The truth is, my best friend is awkward (Shoutout to you, Bryce Rowland).

My best friend is awkward, and I mean it as a total compliment when I say it. I don't know if he's ever known that, but anytime I call him awkward, I'm complimenting him. He has a personality that breaks down social barriers, allows him to be friends with anyone and be friends fast and a true personality of himself that he's not afraid to put on display for others to see. He runs the risk of potentially being awkward so others don't have to feel so awkward, and I love the guy for it. He embraces himself and owns his awkwardness; he doesn't avoid it or fear it, and I consider it a part of who he is. It's awesome to watch and a really cool picture of grace, in a weird, awkward sort of way.

Awkwardness is a little of something we all have in us to some extent. Technically, the definition of awkward is 'causing difficulty, embarrassment or being ungraceful, also being abnormal,' and really, it's impossible for any human to lack those traits in some areas of life. Whether it's socially, athletically, musically or personally, we all have something in our lives that is difficult, causes embarrassment and that we aren't the 'graceful' at, making it not look normal when we participate in that activity. Personally, mine is social awkwardness; I'm extremely unnatural at meeting new people, so when I have to, I clam up and get awkward; however, I don't think this is something I'm supposed to fear anymore. I think it's something I'm supposed to own.

Whether you're the guy dancing to 'Tiny Dancer' in a room full of people you don't know, the person who hates meeting new people for fear of what others will think of you or even the person who hates participating in athletic activities because of lack of experience, own that awkwardness that is bound to come out. Embrace who you are and don't be scared of looking unnatural because there's no doubt that the people you're around are unnatural and awkward in their own ways too; they're just not owning it like you are. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Make awkward the new awesome.

When Mother Nature Plays 'Daddy'

I'm currently sitting in a hallway, alone, under blankets and pillows and listening to tornado sirens, and to me, it sounds like those sirens are saying, "Who's your daddy, Austin?" And I'm thinking, "Mother nature."

It's moments like this when I'm reminded of just how human and vulnerable I really am. At any moments notice, a burst of strong wind or a tornado could rip through the entire house I rent and take me out like a slight breeze takes out a loose blade of grass- here one moment, gone the next. 

Nature has a way of making us feel super vulnerable when were exposed to it- especially if we're not used to it. Weather it's a looming tornado (yes, that was a pun on whether) or a mysterious noise outside of a tent while camping, there's just something about being exposed to something greater than yourself while it has the potential to take the life out of your lungs. I'm not sure what it is about something other than a human being able to take your life from you that makes you feel super human, but it's true. When nature shows its wild side and displays its full force, it's humbling and honestly, kinda terrifying.  

Think about it though. When is the last time you were humbled by the power or the creation that you live in? Was it while you were hiding under a fort of blankets and pillows while nature ran its course giving you no say in the matter? Or was it when you walking in the woods late at night with darkness so thick around you that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face even if you only held it inches away from your nose? It could've been any number of times, but there's no doubt, we all feel fearful of creation at some time or another. It's a funny thing being a created being that technically, is created to help cultivate creation, yes also a being that has no control over that creation. What a concept. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: If you live in Oklahoma, get a storm shelter.  

Heaven on Earth

"Jesus died so that you could be saved from your sins and so that you could go to Heaven."

This is what I've always heard and known to be true. I heard it in Sunday school growing up, all the way through college. It's a simple, yet completely complex sentence when it's unpacked, and up until today, a sentence that I never thought could've been mis-shaping my reality of what Heaven may be like.

First off, let me start by saying that I agree with the above sentence. I believe that Jesus died so I could be saved from my sins and one day see eternity; however, today, something was pointed out to me that completely rocked my world. At the end of the above sentence is the phrase, 'go to Heaven.' It's a phrase that we all use when a loved one passes away, when referencing the 90's Disney movie about dogs going to Heaven and when talking about the after life. Going to Heaven is something to hope and long for; however, what if we have it wrong? What if, ultimately, we don't all go to Heaven, but instead, Heaven comes here?

There's a simple conversation in Luke 24 that takes place after Jesus has come back from being dead. He shows up to His disciples and asks them if they have anything to eat. Then, they give Him a piece of fish, and He ate it. 

That's it.

That story was enough to convince me that maybe my views of Eternity and Heaven have been far from accurate. You see, I've always imagined, like many people, that Heaven is a place of harps, clouds and togas (oh, my!). I've tried to imagine its pearly gates, unending worship and perfection, but honestly, I think I've been imagining it wrong. I've been imagining Jesus' resurrection wrong, and therefor have imagined Heaven wrong (even though it's still probably unimaginable). 

Jesus died, and He didn't resurrect in Heaven. He resurrected on earth. He didn't come back as a ghost or a spirit, but He came back as a fish-eating human with scars on His hands, feet and sides. He brought the resurrection to earth and brought Heaven to earth in turn. 

No longer do I just believe that I'm going to go to Heaven when I die for eternity. But I now see and believe that because Christ resurrected from the dead, He will in turn resurrect me from the dead, and not just me, but the whole earth. He will bring Heaven to earth, and it will be perfect, just in the way that it was intended. God will walk with us as He walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden before the Fall, and all will be perfect. All because Christ first resurrected, He is now and will continue to resurrect us.  

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: I'm a living, breathing Hell, and it's up to Jesus to resurrect me.

Blind to Blessings

Have you ever met someone who had worse luck than the kid you grew up with who's mom made him tuck his shirt into his gym shorts every day for school? I have, and man has he had a rough couple of months. Among other things, he's been a victim of a hit and run, had his car damaged by the people who fixed it after the hit and run, had his dog run away and had his couch torn to shreds by his other dog- all in the span of just a couple of months. It's as if life just isn't going well for him lately, and I honestly feel really bad for the guy; however, his perspective on the whole thing has really changed my heart toward this kind of bad luck.

As someone who recently hasn't had the best of luck himself, I've gotten to watch this guy go from one rough circumstance to another with about as positive as an attitude as one can have when stuff goes as wrong as it has for him. Heck, even just today he displayed a great deal of patience as he was running late to meet me for coffee because He almost ran out of gas on the way there. After he finally got to the coffee shop, he walked by me, set his books down gently, smiled at me and said, 'I'm good. I promise.' And somehow, the genuine look and patience on his face made me believe him, while I know that if I had been in the same situation, I would've been anxious, overwhelmed and probably kind of angry.

As we got to talking about his morning thus far, as well as all the other instances of 'bad luck' we'd both been having lately, we both took some time to reflect on what had been going on in our lives. After we'd finished up, he said something really interesting to me after I'd asked him what he was thinking about. In a short, simple way, he just said, "Sometimes, I think we're just blind to our blessings."

I don't think he could've been more right.

It's easy to, in the middle of 'bad luck,' look at all the negatives in life and miss all the positives. It's easy to look past all the normal, 'good things' in life that we so often look past as blessings because their normal and even easier to see the rare occasions of bad luck as hell on earth. We react terrible when something throws a hiccup in our day to day routine, yet we're quick to forget to give thanks for all the things that go right.

In the midst of 'bad luck,' look at the good luck that the day has brought. Don't be blind to your blessings, but be thankful you're free to live, free to breathe and have free access to lay beneath trees that provide shade on those beautiful, sunny days.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Don't be blind to your blessings. 

When Wedding Bells Sound Like Hell's Bells

There's this 'special' thing that tends to happen when you enter your mid to late twenties: ALL your friends start to get married.

Not only do all your friends start to get married in your mid to late twenties, but they also seem to all start to get married at the same time. First, it's just one friend is engaged, and you have a wedding in July, and then, the next thing you know, all your friends are engaged and you have a wedding every other weekend from April until September. Wedding bells are nice, but sometimes when they ring too much, they can begin to sound like Hell's Bells.

If there were a world record for number of weddings attended in one day, I think I could've at least tied it this past weekend. Within a span of 10 hours, I attended three (count em') THREE weddings in three different cities. I don't know what it was about the day of April 16 this year, but apparently, if you didn't get married on that day, you didn't do your wedding right. 

Each wedding I went to was great, and each one was beautiful and creative in its own sense. I saw three great friends and family members tie the knot, and I couldn't be happier for the newly-wed couples I call my friends and what their relationships symbolize. I know it may sound like from above that I may be a wedding snob full of jealously that friends are getting married, but I'm not. I'm just battling for the first time another reality of adulthood that most all young adults battle at some point and that's the battle of watching other friends take another step forward toward adulthood that you haven't taken yet.

It's a weird battle and it's a weird feeling to watch friends that are the same age as you (or younger) get older and mature in ways that you can't yet know. I was never really one to believe that weddings were all that emotional for people other than the bride, groom and their families, but now I believe they are, and not just for the reasons you may first think. Yes, weddings are happy, joyful celebrations of two lives coming together as one, but they're also life events that mark significant change and progression in ones' lives. They show two individuals who are no longer clinging to their parents, but that are instead clinging to each other. The slideshows rolling by on the screens show the couples as they once were from days before they knew one another with photos of old friends and memories while those friends from those old memories stand and watch as their friends take the next step forward out of those old memories. 

It can be sobering, it can be nostalgic, and in some ways, it can even be painful. 

Weddings are amazing and beautiful experiences where memories are made and new journeys start for young couples, but when you're in your mid-twenties and everyone you know seems to be starting out on those new journeys except you, take heart. You're not alone, and there is plenty of time ahead for your own journey with that special someone to start. If you're young and wedding bells are starting to sound more like Hell's Bells, listen more closely. Listen to the joy of your friends and their families as they celebrate, listen to the laughter as you reflect on old stories you get to share with friends you haven't seen in five years and listen to the music as you dance your feet of at the wedding reception. Weddings are celebrations for couples, not funerals for singles. Listen close, and you'll begin to hear it. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Weddings are celebrations for couples, not funerals for singles.  

If Walls Could Talk (Maybe They Do)

Interior design isn't really my thing.

If someone were to look around my room, much less my house, one would probably think they walked into an explosion of random hobbies and taste. If a Jack of All Trades had a room, it would probably be mine. In one corner sits a bass guitar with a skateboard hanging above it. On another wall sits a drum set, and on another wall, next to the bed, sits a computer desk desk with an old baseball glove hanging above it. The walls have flags, maps and portraits hanging from them, and there are three windows taking up the rest of the space. Honestly, there's no particular theme or consistency, and several of my friends have let me know that. (My office at work is worse, with glow stars hanging on the walls, making it the least professional office in the building)

It's interesting how sometimes (in my case especially) walls reflect bits and pieces of ourselves. It's been that way since we were kids. Where we once hung pictures of our favorite sports teams, favorite characters and favorite celebrities, we now hang bits and pieces of our new interests, whether it be photos of family and friends, works of art from hobbies or memorabilia from days long gone. Either way, our walls seem to talk and tell stories of who we are and what we're like.

If you could hear my walls talk, I'm sure they would have some interesting stories about the things hanging from them. The skateboard wall would probably say it has a skateboard hanging from it that was bought out of wanting to learn to skateboard to be 'cool' like the other kids. The wall with the map on it would probably say it has a map on it because of wanting to look 'well traveled.' I'm not sure what the wall with the flags would say, but probably something along the lines of wanting to feel like an All-American man, but not so much because of wanting to be patriotic. Forreal' though, my walls would probably be more honest with you about me than I would be about me. They've seen me at my lowest and highest points, and they reflect my aspirations and the 'who I want to be.'

My walls are probably a lot like your walls, because I bet your walls do the same thing. Of course, they reveal different things than my walls, but they definitely talk. When's the last time you stopped to listen/look at them? They may reveal something about yourself that you have never even realized.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Walls can talk. 

Profile: The Selfless Worker

It's 9:09 p.m. on a Tuesday night, and my roommate, Mason, is currently blaring John Denver's 'Thank God I'm a Country Boy' in the bathroom as he gives his pet Border Collie, Murray, a bath in our bathtub. 

There are a couple of things about this whole scenario that crack me up- 1) that Mason listens to John Denver like a son would listen to his father's last words and 2) that Mason chooses this time of day to give his dog a bath after I know that he's had a long day at work; however, this kind of work ethic is something I love about my roommate and something that I've learned from him- selfless work doesn't always stop after the work day.

There have been a lot of examples in my life of hard workers working after the 'work day' is through, for example, my parents; however, at the time I was living with my parents, i was an adolescent who didn't know the value of hard work or all the hard work they put in to make life as easy as it seemed. However, now that I'm old enough to be living on my own in a house that takes work to run, I've learned to see the value of hard work after working hours, and my roommate is a prime example of that.

Mason is a producer at a news station and works crazy, countless hours, and then he shows up at home some time around 7 p.m. and goes to work again, taking care of his dog, meeting its needs, making dinner, doing side graphic design projects for people and so much more, and at the heart of it all, I've picked up that the art to working hard after working hours is being a selfless worker. It's about serving others first (even those others are pets) and being tired at the end of the day. I guarantee there's not one weekday night Mason goes to bed when he's not exhausted, if not just mentally, but physically as well. He's an example of selfless worker, and he's someone I can learn from in that department. 

A key to growing up and being ready to have a family is being a selfless worker, ready to serve rather than be served, and I'm fortunate enough to live with a roommate who's a prime example of that. It isn't easy, and it's the opposite of lazy, but being a selfless worker and a selfless servant is at the heart of growing up into a man.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: A selfless worker is a selfless servant. 

Depression's Best Friends

It sucks when you have free tickets to a concert and no one has the time to go with you. It also sucks when you have plans with someone, and they forget about them and you're left hanging out to dry. It sucks even worse when these things reoccur within the same week more than three times and reoccur on the same day. They're instances that can leave you feeling unwanted, unsure and unhappy, and they're instances that can lead to three unique feelings:

Doubt. Loneliness. And depression.

These are the three words that I've been feeling lately in my spirit, and quite frankly, feeling heavily for the first time in my life. I've never struggled much with doubt, loneliness or depression, but lately, I've felt a lot more like Eeyore and a lot less like Tigger. 

Inside me, there's something that says struggling with doubt and loneliness aren't real issues. It's a voice that says, "You're not really feeling these things because only weak people struggle with these things." I listen to that voice a lot. I ignore the symptoms I'm truly feeling based on how I think I should be feeling. The symptoms of loneliness and doubt go hand in hand with the negative term needy, and the last thing anyone wants to feel is needy; however, loneliness and doubt are real feelings that can't be ignored, and so far I've found out that often times these two feelings lead to the deeper feeling of depression.

There's a truth behind all of humanity, and that truth is that we all want to feel wanted. We all want to feel valued, and we all want to feel purpose. When we're 'wanted' (not like an arrest warrant 'wanted'), we don't feel lonely, and we don't feel doubt about what we're doing in life. When people value our presence, we begin to feel purposeful in our work and accepted for who we are- two things that begin to erase both doubt and loneliness. 

Another truth is that people have struggled with wanting to feel valued and accepted for thousands of years; I read about it today in a book that was written thousands of years ago when people from Israel wanted so desperately to feel valued by someone that they were demanding to have a king so they would have someone to reign over them and give them purpose. They wanted to feel valuable, and they wanted to feel wanted.

You and I are the same way still today. We want to be wanted and wanted so much so that we'll chase after anything and everything to 'reign' over us. We look for value in friendships, relationships, jobs, money and so much more. We all struggle with doubt, loneliness and depression at times, and when we try to ignore those feelings and listen to the voice that says we're 'needy', we find ourselves trying to combat those feelings with anything that will let us feel meaning. So far, everything I've tried has let me down; people, money and work all have. But there's one thing that hasn't- it's the hope I have in knowing that there's eternity after this sometimes doubtful, lonely and depressing life. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Even though you may feel lonely in feeling lonely, doubtful and depressed, you're not alone in it. 

Reflections: Made Too Pretty

The other day, I was standing in front of the mirror looking at my reflection. I wasn't really doing anything; I was just standing, looking at myself and admiring my new haircut and all the ways I could wear it differently. I must have stood there for ten or fifteen minutes before I'd realized it'd been ten or fifteen minutes, and I stopped (not because I wanted too, but because I felt like a girl). Then, the question crossed my mind that I've been asked before but haven't ever answered:

Were we made too pretty?

Sometimes, it sure does seem like it. 

How many times I day do I look at myself in the mirror? Whether it's to fix my hair, check to see if I have something in my teeth or look and see if I have any new pimples, I frequent the mirror more than a 20-something-year-old frequents their Facebook page while driving, which is a lot. I even admit to making sure I get a side glance at myself if I pass by a large window so I can catch my reflection in it to make sure I'm looking from head to toe while I'm walking- and to know what I look like to the other people around me. Honestly, it's pretty vain. 

The question, "Were we made too pretty?" is actually a question I heard from a song called, 'Made too Pretty" (makes sense for the title, right?). It's a song that doesn't question the belief that we were made in God's image, and it doesn't state that beauty God bestowed on and in His creation is wrong; it's a song that questions the idea of humans turing themselves into gods, and I think that's a good question to ask.

So often, as the song says, "we're caught up in a stare we cannot break," or at least I am anyway. We spend so much time in front of mirrors fixing ourselves and staring at ourselves and spend so much time taking selfies and staring at pictures that ourselves that I believe our vain-ness can sometimes become and idol and a god. We stare at our reflections and see what's on the surface- but how often do we stop and stare at what's below the surface?

If I took the time to self examine my soul as much as I take the time to self examine my surface, I think I'd be better off. If we all took the time to look at what's on the inside as much as what's on the outside, I think we would find that we really may have been made too pretty in such a way that our outside generally doesn't reflect the mess that we all are on the inside. 

We're all messy people, maybe not always on the outside, but always on the inside. There is always something our hearts are in need of help with, and we can't edit it out or put a filter over it to mask it. That's what grace is for. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Were you made too pretty?

Why We're More Like Judas Than Jesus on Easter

This week has been a special week; it's been Holy Week. Personally, I've always found it funny that Easter and Holy Week don't seem to get the same sort of attention as Christmas and therefor don't always feel as 'special' as Christmas, but I think it's important to remember that without Easter and Holy Week, there wouldn't really be a reason to celebrate Christmas. I've tried to keep that in mind this week as I've gone about acknowledging the fact the the weight of eternity stems on the events that happened this week 2,000 years ago, and it's been helpful.

This Holy Week has been different than others. I've come to see it in a new light, and I've participated in new aspects of it, such as Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Along with celebrating new aspects of it, a new viewpoint of the Easter story became clear to me, and that's the view point of Judas Iscariot in the Easter story. A simple phrase found in John 13 totally connected me with one of the most misunderstood people in the whole Bible.

John 13:2 says, "During supper, when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him."

That's it. That's the whole verse, and that has been the verse that has flipped this Holy Week on its head for me. The simple phrase of "when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him," completely connected me with Judas because I know that feeling. I know the feeling of being so dead set on committing a sin that no matter what anyone says, I'm going to do it. I can totally relate to the thought process, the feeling and the temptation that Judas felt that night when the devil put the betrayal of the Savior of the World in his heart. I can understand how he felt inside and how that sin and thought had such a grip on him that he didn't care what anyone said to him to try to make him stop- even Jesus Himself. He was absorbed with selfishness and greed and was probably fueled by one of those 'sin highs' that we all get momentarily when we enjoy doing something 'bad.' I understand Judas.

This whole idea has made me realize that more times than not in my relationship to Christ, when we're sitting at a table together, I'm not Jesus and I'm not a disciple, but I'm Judas; I'm on the verge of betraying my Savior to pursue some sort of fleeting selfish act. 

This is why I need grace more than I ever thought I did. This is why Jesus had to be betrayed and had to be put to death and suffer for my sins- because I'm Judas, and so are we all; however, unlike Judas, we don't have to take our lives and end it all. We can repent and turn to our Lord, just as Peter did when he had his 'Judas' moment of denying Christ three times. We can acknowledge our betrayal, repent and accept the grace offered to us, oh, so unfairly. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: It's because of Judas that when we become Judas, we have a chance for redemption. 

Behind Closed Doors

A swinging door is a shutting door, and a shutting door is barrier to the world behind it. 

What happens behind closed doors stays (for the most part) behind closed doors. Doors can provide seclusion, secrecy and silence, and they can allow us to go into our own private place, away from the world behind it. 

Last weekend, I spent an entire day behind closed doors. I woke up and didn't leave my house the entire day. In fact, I barely left my room. I got up, took a shower, and binge watched House of Cards on Netflix. I stayed in my pajamas, ate food in bed and didn't care to see the light of day. I was comfortable, and no one could see how comfortable I was, and frankly, I was perfectly happy with that.

There's something about being behind closed doors and lazy like that all day that made me feel embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to see how lazy I was being or how much of a cliche 'couch potato' I looked like- in short, I was thankful for my door, but by the end of the day, I was also depressed.

This isn't the only time I've felt this way. I've noticed in a lot of my 'behind closed doors' experiences that I wind up depressed- depressed and embarrassed. Any time I choose to spend a day hiding from the outside world, nothing productive ever happens and nothing I'd ever be proud of happens. Sure, there are times to shut the door and be alone to recharge, connect spiritually or just to get away; however, too much time behind closed doors and being behind closed doors doing the wrong ways breeds secrecy and seclusion-two things that, alone, aren't always the most healthy. 

Close the door when needed, but open it and let some fresh air in at least once a day. See the sun and let it drive out the darkness that closed doors withhold. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: A swinging door is a shutting door, and a shutting door is barrier to the world behind it. 

White As Snow

For someone who sees snow every day for six months a year, snow is normal and maybe even depressing and annoying. For someone who doesn't see snow very often, snow is extremely pretty and a site for sore eyes. For someone who has never seen snow ever, snow is other-worldly and similar to seeing a million dollars because they've heard of it and know it exists, they've just never seen it with their own eyes.

I fall into the category of someone who doesn't see snow very often but finds it gorgeous to look at. I love watching it fall, accumulate throughout the day, and turn the world white, but there's something funny about snow turning the world white; at the same time that it turns the world white, it also creates a lot of brown. 

If you've ever driven in the snow, you've probably noticed that the roads not only get dangerous, but they also get really dirty looking. There's something about snow that makes the cars we drive and the roads we drive on extremely gross. If there's two things snow is good at, it's making everything look clean and white and also making lots of things look brown and dirty.

There's an old hymn that goes:

"What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the Blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the Blood of Jesus. Oh! Precious is the flow that makes me white as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the Blood of Jesus."

I love this hymn, and I love the weight that the words of it carry, not only for me, but for humanity. I love the irony of the crimson of blood being able to wash us and cleanse us. It's ironic- just like the irony of snow being epically white, but also creating lots of brownness along the way, and just like the hymn carries a symbolic message, I believe that snow does too. Just as the crimson Blood of Christ washes away our sins and makes us white as snow, I believe the dirtiness that from the white of snow also represents something about us after we've been made white as snow in Christ. The more we're washed in the Blood, and the whiter we become, the more aware we become of our dirtiness and need of cleansing and grace. Just as white snow reveals brown dirtiness, the whiteness and pureness of Christ reveals more of our dirtiness and our need for grace and washing. 

You've gotta love when nature reminds you of God's grace.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: "Oh! Precious is the flow that makes us white as snow"- and reveals our dirt. 

The Struggle is Real

Have you ever watched someone struggle? It's a real thing. You can watch it, and when you watch it you can feel it. Real struggle is a real display; Yes, it can be masked, but at some point, the struggle shows itself and becomes visible to the eye.

Struggle displays itself in many forms and fashions. It shows on the physical side of a person through facial expressions and tiredness, and it also shows itself on the emotional side of a person in attitude and being. Essentially, if the struggle is real enough, it takes over a person, in a sense in some form or fashion, and it hurts to watch. 

I'm writing about the not-so-happy topic of struggle because today I watched my friend struggle-more physically than emotionally, but what I noticed was eventually, the physical struggle lead to an emotional struggle, just as I know emotional struggle can lead to physical struggle. Today, my friend took a bad fall snowboarding and fractured a bone. In his case, the physically struggle was real- watching him try to come down off the mountain, climb in the car and climb up the steps to the doctors office was painful for me to endure, so I can't imagine how he felt. It was interesting too to see how the physical struggle began to manifest itself in the visible, emotional struggle of frustration and confusion, as well. 

Struggle can be as visible and simple as a fractured bone (not that a fractured bone is simple), and it can be as invisible and complex as suicidal thoughts. Whatever the case and whatever the degree, struggle is real, and to watch struggle is hard; however, what is harder than watching struggle is watching someone struggle alone, so don't. When you see struggle, help, and when struggling goes on display and the person is struggling alone, be a friend. Struggle is real, and we all go through it, but we don't have to go at it alone.

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: The struggle is real. 

Dirty Sweaty Hands

When I was in second grade, I remember coming in from recess one afternoon and having to write down a couple of sentences about a video we had been watching. My hands were so sweaty, I literally ruined the paper I was writing on and smudged all the penciled-in writing that I'd worked so hard to write on the paper.

This is the first memory I have of noticing myself that something was wrong with my hands.

When I got a little bit older, several more ruined pieces of writing later, I remember being at church one Sunday evening. It was during the first part of the service, the greeting part of the service, that I remember shaking hands with a girl sitting near me and her saying, "Ew, why are your hands so sweaty? That's gross."

This is the first memory I have of someone else noticing that something was wrong with my hands.

Sadly, both of these memories are memories that have shaped the way I've lived ever since.

Every since others realizing and realizing myself that I have 'dirty sweaty hands' (and feet), it's been the most self-conscience driving force in my life. Holding a girl's hand is a rarity for me. I never wear flip flops. I write papers with a 'paper barrier' between my hand and the paper being written on. I don't like participating in social situations where I have to meet new people. I only hold hands in prayer if I'm forced to, and probably one of the biggest extremes I go to to avoid hand to hand combat- I purposely 'go to the bathroom' during the meet and greet time at church each Sunday because I know I'll have to shake hands.

That's what happened to me when I let the voice in my head and the voice of someone else tell me I was gross; I let those voices write huge chunks of the narrative of my life, but now, I want to change that narrative. 

I have spent the entirety of my life re-writing who I am. I'm an extravert that's scared to be an extravert because of something that I can't help about myself, and I'm a person who loves meeting people but that's been scared to meet people. Essentially, a big chunk of my story has been yet to be told correctly because of fear and because I've listened to the voices inside my head that are lying to me and the voices of others and what I think others will think. 

Just as Adam and Eve replaced the voice of God with the voice of another in Genesis, I have replaced the voice of God telling me who I am with the voice of others telling me who I am, and it's time for that to change. It's time to listen to who He says we are, not who the world says we are. 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: We all have our 'sweaty hand' issue. That doesn't define us.