community pt. 2

I just completed perhaps the greatest Sabbath in recent memory.

It was full of great discussion, music, sleep, activity and reflection. It all boils down to community.

1. Running has surprisingly become therapeutic. Even when it's cold.
2. I love philosophical discussions with Ryan Billington.
3. The WWU Music Dept. is rather superb indeed. It makes me almost want to be up there with them...
4. The Christmas Recognition Ceremony at the West Whitman Estate had perhaps even greater music...
5. The Christmas Recognition Ceremony at the West Whitman Estate also provided real Sabbath community.
6. There's something about getting to walk a dog. Thanks Abby!
7. Why haven't I been going to Sabbath Seminar since I arrived at WWU?
8. Alex Bryan is a hero.
9. There's just something about sitting in a recliner with a book and a journal while wrapped in the warmth of a blanket.
10. Sleep is simply stellar. Naps are vital.

Ah, community. This is how each Sabbath should be.

community (written last weekend)

Life is an interesting thing.

This weekend held something for me: opportunity. I had few plans beyond sundown. History Club vespers Friday night and Religion Club Christmas Party Saturday night. I've been in need of some spontaneity.

At History Club vespers, I had a short side conversation with Dr. Dodds about how my sense of community at WWU has changed for me since I moved out of the dorm. I know so few people here. I don't live with them. I don't eat in the cafeteria with them. I don't know them. That's just that. They're them. I don't know their names, who they are. I'm not in a position to change that and it's not all bad. It's just a fact more than a complaint.

At vespers I enjoyed people watching. As it ended and people began filing out of the sanctuary, I realized again just how few people I know. Vespers used to be the place where I saw everyone. I knew everyone... Now, I sat back in my pew and watched. Eventually, I ended up having an interesting conversation about God and the Seventh-day Adventist church with a few friends that I haven't talked with in awhile. It lasted. Awhile. And it was good. We listened to each other. We had different stories and experiences and therefore different opinions, but we were accepting. I felt accepted.

That's why I'm still searching. That's why I still go to church, to vespers, to an SDA university. Community. I don't feel it with the general WWU church. I don't even feel it on campus. But I felt it there. I feel it each Wednesday at lunch during my small group. I feel it at Worm Ranch on Fridays. And it's good.

I may have lost my greater sense of WWU community. And while that's sad in some sense, I'm glad. I may have had one-inch deep relationships with everyone on campus (this is not meant to diminish my many great, deep friendships during my dorm years - I still have many of those friendships, but it was more rare overall...), but I now have even truer communities, where deep and accepting discussion takes place. That's positive. That's community.

retirement

I was an unlikely quarterback. It was my sophomore year and I was supposed to be the center. Our quarterback, however, was in band and was always gone. So, I stepped in... Sure, I can throw, but I'm slow and I don't always see the field perfectly. What I didn't know then was that I'd be playing quarterback and captaining each successive year, barring my year as a student missionary.

Now, after four years, it's over. After the game I was sitting down, taking a breather and realizing just how sore my legs were (I played both sides in a triple overtime game...) when I fully grasped that that was my last football game at Walla Walla University. I'm really going to miss it. A lot. So many memories. Winning B-League in 08-09. Playing with some of my best friends in the world. I am a blessed man.

Now I get to look forward to my last year of softball intramurals. It won't be the same though. I'll keep playing softball in city leagues post-college but I doubt I'll ever play quarterback again. It's over... I'm retired...

sola scriptura

The Seventh-day Adventist Church claims to be a church that follows sola scriptura, meaning the Bible only. I've written here about the doubts I've wrestled with and my means of addressing them. I've talked with respectable individuals, read commentaries and "inspirational" works while not removing myself from the Adventist community.

None of this is bad. However, as I sat in my Issues of God and Faith class, listening to Dr. Thomas lecture about different spiritually foundational works for different religions/denominations I was hit by the fact that I have never read the entire Bible. Sure, I've read Genesis, Proverbs and the Gospels at minimum five times, but have I read Zephaniah, 2 Thessalonians or Ezekiel? Nope.

I feel inspired. I say I'm searching and I have been. However, the most logical place to begin should be the foundational book with which it's all based because everything else is secondary, right?

So, this means consistent study. Every day. I need to know this thing. I need to come at it from a different perspective. I need to analyze it. I need to use commentaries for parts I don't understand. I need to read books which criticize the Bible too, because I need to know all sides of the argument. This excites me. I feel like this may give me some further direction. It'll be good.

I'm also ecstatic about beginning Max Lucado's new book Outlive Your Life for my small group. It'll be good to be focusing on life goals and who I want to be long-term while I'm searching. Perspective is crucial.

Now to begin...

the future

The past 24 hours have been a whirlwind. Principals and Superintendents from the North Pacific Union Conference visited Walla Walla for a "banquet" last night and interviews this morning. The banquet was mainly a chance to say hello to potential employers while grabbing a surprisingly decent Sodexho-catered meal. The interviews, while understandably informal for interviews (job openings won't be known till February), still kept me occupied continuously from 8 a.m. till noon. By the end, I was drained, as I am while I type this.

Throughout the course of the interview, I was asked many questions. The most consistent were "Tell me about yourself..." and "Where do you see yourself in five to ten years?" The latter really made me think. Where do I see myself in five to ten years...?

I hadn't thought too much about that answer previously, but I'm happy with my answer. I stated that I want to be settled. That means in a consistent job. I'd like to at least be moving in the direction of a family. I'd like to be finished with graduate school.

It's had me thinking a lot this afternoon. It's definitely becoming real that I'm graduating. That means grad school, teaching jobs, the real world. I'm ready and excited, though this day has always seemed so far away... It also became that much real when I was elected the Executive Vice President of my senior class. I hadn't thought about my graduation day much specifically... It's so real. I'm thrilled.

My future has more question marks than sureties right now. But that doesn't worry me. I know that if I work hard and get my foot in enough doors that one is bound to open... It'll be good.

competition

Competition often finds me at my worst.

Last night, for instance, found me swearing, kicking a fence twice, taking my jersey off and yelling at referees during an intramural football game against some friends and softball teammates. My competitiveness isn’t at all a new phenomenon. I’ve always been competitive. In elementary school, this led to some extremely non-fun lectures from my parents… It hasn’t gone away, though I’ve made a conscious effort to address it, especially after I have my annual kick the fence tirade each season in softball intramurals.

This season has been better, though the Michael’s on my team have had to calm me down a couple times (but I never let my competitive spirit get the best of me, like last night). Last night should have been different. Because I realized it at halftime. I even gave a little speech to my teammates where I promised to be better and to lead by example. I failed. This team was A-league worthy and we’re in B-League, yes. However, it doesn’t give me the excuse to behave how I did. As a team captain, I have to lead by example. Tom Landry, a great former NFL coach once said, “When you want to win a game, you have to teach. When you lose a game, you have to learn.”

I’m learning right now…

Because at our next game, I want competition to find me at my best.

happiness

For me, happiness is sitting in my living room. Drinking hot chocolate. Listening to The Beatles' Abbey Road on my roommates vinyl. Reading about spiritual worldview. Putting off a paper. That's the life.

adventure

I'm a man and I hate asking for directions. This story proves that point.

Friday afternoon, we were getting ready to leave for the Theology Retreat. I was supposed to ride with Tommy (who knew where we were going) and others, but instead, I decided to ride with Chad and Jonny (who didn't know where they were going) so that I could help them find the destination. Because I'd been to Camp Elkanah before. Four years before... So no need to pick up a map...

We started driving and I at least remembered that the camp was near LaGrande, Oregon. And I thought it was near the freeway...

Then we got to LaGrande. And I was confused. So I texted my boss, who grew up in LaGrande. He told me the exit number, and we'd only passed it by 10 miles or so...

We turned around and were sure it was on the north side of the freeway. After driving onto private property and through many dark and remote roads, Jonny declared "this isn't it." So we turned around...

The sign for an information center sounded great. But we couldn't find that. But a mile down the road, we did find a house where two guys were skinning a buck they'd killed only hours before (they wouldn't shake Chad's hand because their hands were bloody). And they told us the truth: that the camp was 10 miles down the road and on the right. So much for my "near the freeway" theory. So much for me being the one who helped guide...

We made it, but we missed dinner have arrived an hour and a half late (but microwaves are amazing...). It was an adventure full of great conversations. I have no regrets.

hope

It seems that so many of my friends are going through the worst times of their lives. Death. Pain. Heartache. You name it. It's horrible... and I really don't know what to tell them. I wish I did. I've given out extra hugs. I've tried to just be. But I wonder if I'm actually doing any good. But when it's all said and done I just have to hope. To believe that this wasn't what life was intended to be like. To hope that things will get better. Because without hope, what's the point?

failure

I'm a workaholic.

I always have been.

As a freshman in high school, I worked so much and spread myself out so much that I had only 1-2 hours a night even available to do homework.

In Pohnpei, my roommates had to kidnap me from my classroom sometimes. I had trouble saying no and was thus involved in the following: JV basketball coach, boys and girls softball coach, debate coach, church elder, youth leader (vespers, Sabbath School, hospital ministry, prison ministry, etc.). I didn't sleep.

08-09 school year = 30+ hours work per week between 3 jobs.

09-10 school year = The Collegian and my senior paper

This school year, it's directed reading. Lots of it. I need to read 5000 pages for just 6 of my 16 credits.

I'm behind. Hundreds of pages behind already. I've already turned in an essay late. I'm beginning to stress. A lot. I have options, none good, each expensive. I know it's false, but I feel as though I'm a failure if I don't finish everything. However, I don't think it's possible to do all my reading while also working 15 hours... I don't know what to do. I feel like I've been superhuman (and too stressed to be happy) in the past and I feel like I'm abandoning that part of myself right now and that I'm failing myself and everyone.

I just want everything to work out.

quick judgments

Doubt brought acceptance into my life. Agnostics. Homosexuals. Yankees fans (wait, never…). Democrats. You may laugh, but this all of these groups seemed blasphemous and nearly evil to me as recently as three years ago. I wouldn’t have stated it vocally unless provoked, but those feelings were there. Then I began to doubt and everything changed… 

This week I was sad to find that old Dustin had returned in small doses. I attended a George Packer lecture at Whitman this past Wednesday. As he bashed Bush and praised Obama, my anger rose. I wanted to tune him out entirely and nearly did. I convinced myself to look past and hope. I was rewarded with a lecture that stretched beyond partisanship regarding the war in Afghanistan. Why was I so quick to judge?

I had a friend who was scared to tell me something out of fear I’d judge them. When I found out, I was proud of myself for giving a hug and thinking positively. I explained that the old Dustin would have judged but that I’d changed. Little did I realize that I’d soon fail another friend within a few mere hours. I won’t share the details, but I’m embarrassed that I could ignore the aforementioned statement so readily and let something bother me so much.

Values are important. Yes. I’m happy with mine. However, I want nothing more than to be someone that can listen to anyone talking about anything… without judging… I’ve made progress overall in my life and I’m proud about that. However, this shows that I have room to grow.

weather

I've never thought of myself to be someone who let my mood be dictated by the weather. Sure, I may bring it up in passing conversation but that's all. Apparently, I was wrong. I've been ecstatic about the sun the past few days. I couldn't pass up a run (I hate running) Sunday night and was depressed that I had to spend six hours inside the library working today instead of playing outdoor sports (it'll be alleviated at 4 p.m. today). I'm not saying I'd ever want to live in southern California (because I really like seasons I learned in Pohnpei), but the sun is more than welcome to stay around awhile...

loving life

It's been awhile since I last wrote. I've been the best man in a wedding, a counselor at UCA Senior Survival, camping in the Olympic Peninsula and finishing a directed reading class... I also had to send my computer in to Apple to fix my mouse (not their fault PC lovers), but it's back (blogging isn't the same on public computers).

On Tuesday, I went to His Garden for lunch with Pastor Alex. We had a great discussion about ministry and God's presence. That's not the point though. While we were eating our sandwiches, a man came in and instead of ordering, simply opened his violin case and began serenading patrons. He wasn't paid to do this. I doubt he was even asked. He was simply a man who loved the violin and spent his lunch hour loving life and sharing his talent.

This past year I was unhappy. I had countless doubts and would consider myself to have been in a serious rut. That, however, is changing. The "Get Motivated" Seminar pointed identified the rut. Helping out at Kris and Karen's wedding helped me rediscover myself and Senior Survival did all of the above and helped me see a brighter future. Now I just have to find ways to continue this at WWU (I have ideas). I'm excited. I'm happy. I'm loving life, just like the violinist at His Garden...

Seriously?

Boy, 13, hit by lightning on Friday 13th at 13:13 - World news - Weird news - msnbc.com

I don't believe this means anything, but what are the odds?

Musings About Musial and My Life as a Story

I was reading Sports Illustrated last night – not the most recent issue (I still hadn’t finished the previous one) – when I again looked at my life and thought I wanted more.

When Stan Musial is on the cover, one has to read the article. I’d never known much about him before, except that I’d never heard one bad word about him. Sure, Babe Ruth was too fat, Joe DiMaggio hung out with celebrities, Mickey Mantle got injured too much, Willie Mays should never have played for the Mets, Ty Cobb played dirty, Pete Rose gambled on his own team and Ted Williams got cryogenically frozen for Pete’s sake. Musial is baseball's all-around good-guy. He played his entire career for the St. Louis Cardinals, won three World Series Rings and was known for never turning down an autograph. In the article, HOF pitcher Robin Roberts was quoted as saying "none of us are perfect. We all disappointed someone from time to time. I guess. Well, all of us except one... Musial."The article told stories about his friendliness, his genuineness, and his respect of others.

"He just believed that that every man had the right to be treated with dignity."

 Last night I was also reading Donald Miller's blog. I'd fallen behind and was attempting to catch up as a break from my directed reading (I'd read 150 pages that day alone about corporate capitalism reconstruction during the Roosevelt and Taft administrations...). Anyways, Miller had written this entry about his friend Bob, a fellow he'd written substantially about in his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life. This guy is amazing. I couldn't do him justice by writing about him, so you'll have to check the story out for yourself. The blog post reminded me about the feelings I had when I read the book last October, during Fall Week of Worship. The book discussed Don's change in thinking regarding life. He began to see his life as a story and realized he didn't like the story he was living. It made me realize that I too didn't like the story I was living. That was a good week if I remember correctly. I tried to live a better story. I can't remember any particulars besides a good chat with speaker Terry Johnsson and reading this book.

Reading about Musial and Bob back-to-back made me realize that, like Don, I didn't like my story very much either. Granted summer school isn't glamorous in general and I'm far behind in my directed reading so that takes due diligence, but I just feel as though my life is boring. I feel like I've been less friendly, aloof really, and I'm sick of it. I want people to say about me what Musial's friend Dick Zitzmann said about him: "He loves making people happy." Now that makes for a good story.

A Case For Reading

I've always loved reading. Whether it was Swift Arrow in the first grade, Sports Illustrated, or a good John Grisham novel (i.e. The Runaway Jury), I've always been enthralled by a good read. Each Friday evening growing up, my family would gather in the living room (or whichever room had a fireplace...) and read for several hours. This was a great tradition, one I hope to continue.

I say all this because of a blog post I read today by Donald Miller. I was shocked by the statistics on American readership. Apparently when people don't have to read, they don't. Seriously. I mean, I have a few roommates who never read, but even they've read Three Cups of Tea.

As a future teacher, the statistics concern me. 1/3 of high school graduates won't read a book again. And (this shocked me even more...!), 42% of college grads won't either. I'd conversely be interested to see statistics on video game usage... I realize that Americans have far more entertainment options than in previous years, but books contain relevant information. Video games (and even my beloved sports) are frivolous with absolutely zero meaning. This shows a disinterest in lifelong learning.

When I was 10, there was an old, retired doctor in our church who would volunteer for the juniors' Sabbath School class, especially teaching nature. I've never forgotten him because he had so much knowledge. Though I didn't know it at the time, he took college courses every semester at the local community college, just for fun and to keep his mind active.

Not every person needs to take college classes for their entire life, but I am nervous when I see a general disinterest in lifelong reading. How can this be averted? How can I instill a lifelong interest in reading (or at least learning in general) in my students? I have no easy solutions (especially since I have only one year of teaching as an SM), but I would think the main solution is to make classes relevant and to suggest specific books that would pique students' interest. I hope this concerns other too and that American culture strives to bring reading back to its prior prominence.

Why I’m Proud of Walla Walla University

I’m a 5th-generation Seventh-day Adventist. I’m about to become a 3rd-generation teacher. Countless aunts, uncles and cousins have been or are currently teaching in the SDA school system. Until I was 18, I was sure what I believed. I was a stereotypical Adventist kid. It was then that I had to work through some issues, interestingly enough regarding perfection, before resuming my place in the church. It was then that I went as a student missionary to Pohnpei, where I taught high school Bible and history, was ordained as an elder and became essentially the youth pastor. Though difficult at times, it was a positive experience. My SM year isn’t the point right now. It’s merely the beginning of this story.

Since my return, I struggled to find a place in American Adventism. I felt unneeded after having been relied upon so heavily in spiritual matters. I was excited to return to “minister” at Walla Walla University. However, I struggled to find a spot in ministry. It seemed no one needed help. I realize now I wasn’t looking in the right places. But discouragement led slowly to a lack of time spent with God in general. Within a year, I woke up one morning not knowing if I believed in God at all. This was especially nerve-wracking considering my history and my status as a religion major.

Being a student at an SDA school, I clammed up about my doubts. I merely told inquirers that I was struggling a bit and received several “I’ll be praying for you” statements. I was cynical. I expected no one here to understand and to be shunned for doubting and lose any job prospects in SDA education if I even mentioned my thoughts. My few attempts at sharing had received mixed results, with some friends supportive and others critical.

Besides being confused, I was unhappy. I tried to mask it, but it was probably quite evident. At least it was to my religion advisor, Alden Thompson. I’d gone into his office only to discuss my class schedule. However, he wished to discuss my spirituality. I was skeptical, yet he pushed on. So, I let it all out. This made me nervous. I was divulging doubt to a “rock” of Adventism. I didn’t know what to expect. Instead of criticism, I received genuine concern and interest. This was the beginning of weekly meetings to discuss God and life. Every Friday at 8 a.m. from January to June I met in his office, minus the few times mental lapses allowed me an hour extra sleep (combined with an apologetic e-mail).

I’m sure I frustrated Dr. Thompson each week. Not only was I not readily convinced of Christianity and a personal God, but my reasoning was redundant and I wasn’t trying as hard as I’d promised. However, he kept inviting me back. He was rather persistent. He e-mailed me quotes, suggested reading material and always promised that he’d be praying for me. This time I believed it. He told me his story with God and assigned me to discuss my doubts with other trusted faculty. It was all helpful.

Simultaneously, two religion classes had a profound impact on my life: Christian Ethics and Spirituality & Discipleship. Drs. Pedrito Maynard-Reid and Jon Dybdahl were not only failed to criticize my doubts, but offered to listen as well.

This is where this blog’s title comes in. I had certain expectations of Adventist education. I expected staunch fundamentalism. I expected to be essentially excommunicated for verbalizing doubt. However, that was not my experience. I was encouraged by each faculty member with whom I discussed my doubts. I was made to feel comfortable in discussion yet uncomfortable with my state of doubt.

I believe I would have been happy no matter where I’d gone to college. It’s simple: I like learning and I like people. However, I doubt I would have been so well received anywhere else. I was respected. This is why I’m proud to be affiliated with Walla Walla University. I wouldn’t change my experience for anything.

I’m still not entirely sure what I believe. However, I find myself stepping closer and closer towards Christianity each day. I want to be more than a hopeful deist. I want purpose. I want community. I want to be someone like Jesus. I want to believe He was the Son of God. There is nothing more positive in this world than the biblical story of Christ. I want to believe.

I’m curious to see where I end up. Join me in continued searching.

Pancakes To Go and Jose Lopez

This past Sunday, I drove the four hours from Walla Walla to Hayden Lake for the Maniscalco/Neisner wedding. It was great to see so many people and share in a happy occasion.

On the drive, I had the fortune of listening to a Mariners game, a game in which they actually won... Anyways, on the way, I heard a radio commercial I'd heard before. It was advertising a restaurant chain called Pancakes-To-Go. I thought it had to be a joke. Who would ever come up with such a horrible idea...?!?!?! And in the commercial, it proceeded to discuss all the health risks of the company, right before a catchy slogan. I've since googled the restaurant and nothing comes up. Seriously. Try it. I used images, maps, all of the above. Nothing. I'm guessing it's a hoax. But I'd heard the ad before and since. Who would pay advertising money for a non-existent company?

As I said, the Mariners won the game. Third baseman Jose Lopez actually performed well. I'd been waiting for such a performance simply so that a team would want to trade for him. All the stars were seemingly aligned. Solid performance. And the Detroit Tigers just lost both their second and third basemen. Perfect. Well, maybe not. The next day, he gets injured, limiting his trade value. He'll probably still be a Mariner after the July 31 trade deadline, meaning one more underachieving Mariner who keeps his job...

On the bright side, the Walla Walla Sweets won tonight... and my buddy Craig even grabbed a foul ball... what a great sport!

Perspectives

I finally had some "me time" today. As an only child, I've fought to have as much social interaction as possible. However, we all need time to disconnect from the world. Today was that day.

It taught me something, perhaps more of a reminder.

I'm broken.

Very broken.

Lost.

I have been for awhile now. The world doesn't know, but I am. I'm lost spiritually and I feel as though I lack direction. I haven't "experienced" God in nearly 2 years. I go to church each Sabbath. I hang out mostly with the "flock." In all appearance, I'm still a good little Adventist boy. I want more. I want to be more than just a hopeful deist.

So, I decided to dig again. I've said I'm trying to find God before. I've had good stints for a few weeks and maybe even a month. I want a considerable dig. The plan is to read everything by Rob Bell in the next month (each for the 2nd time), followed by Donald Miller (also for the 2nd time) before reading The Case For Christ and then maybe something by an atheist. I want to know what I believe. I have no expectations. I just want to experience God and don't want to stop trying to find Him.

I started Velvet Elivs tonight.


It's already forcing me to rethink the expectations I thought I didn't have.

This quote hit me like a ton of bricks:

"The moment God is figured out with nice neat lines and definitions, we are no longer dealing with God. We are dealing with somebody we made up. And if we made him up, then we are in control (25)."

I don't know what to expect, but even subconsciously I want to be in control. That is difficult to give up, especially when my beliefs have been stripped bare.

My perspectives have changed so much in two years, in five years and ten. I'm curious to see how they'll change in the next two, five, ten years...

Blogging? Really?

Blogging.

I never thought I'd get here. Really. Merely a few years ago, I privately mocked those who wrote their musings online. While a student missionary, I refused a blog and instead utilized mass e-mails, because those were different somehow...

Now I read blogs daily. Well, baseball blogs... Does that count? I find myself often checking other friends' blogs fairly regularly as well as spiritual mentors Alex Bryan and Donald Miller. Blogging seemed to help them express themselves. I too want to better express myself. So here I am, hoping that this will be an acceptable medium. Whether anyone reads this or not doesn't matter. I'll try to post something at minimum once a week.

Expect topics ranging anywhere from spiritual searching to baseball to Walla Walla University to my mission year to Camp MiVoden to journalism to whatever. I hope I make sense. I hope I'm worth reading. I hope I live a life worth writing about.

Let the game begin. Put me in coach, I'm ready to play... today... center field...