Ever since I was about 16 or 17, I've felt drawn to the city of Seattle.  I hadn't been there before.  I didn't really know what the city was like or what made it so special, I just knew I wanted to be there.

At the beginning of August, I finally went to Seattle.  Two friends, my girlfriend and I flew out for one week.  We spent the first couple days hiking and camping in Mt. Rainier National Park, then spent the rest of the time just exploring the city.  Was it everything I hoped it would be?

Yes.

I absolutely loved being there.  I loved the weather, the people, the culture and the location.  I loved that you could look one way and see Puget Sound (part of the Pacific Ocean) and then look the other way and see the Cascade mountains.  I loved that I could walk down the Pike Place Market and see a bunch of people selling local produce, things they had made and other unique items.  I loved how at night time, you could walk around and hear music being played all over the place.  I loved being able to get anywhere without a car.

Seattle pretty much has taken the two of the things I love most, music and the outdoors, and put them in one place.  There's music everywhere, in the form of concerts, museums, record labels and street musicians.  And the Cascade mountains are just a short drive away.  The hiking we did in Mt. Rainier was some of the best hiking I've ever done.  There was so much amazing scenery.  It definitely proved to be one of the most beautiful places I've ever been.

I am almost sure that living in Seattle would be the optimal place for me.  The only problem is how many people I would leave behind here.  I don't want to be a plane ride away from my family, I want to be a short drive away.  I want my future kids to know my family.  I want a long relationship with my friends.

So, right now, I'm not sure how feasible moving there would be.  But it's not all that bad.

One thing I realized while in Seattle was just how much it reminded me of Ann Arbor, where I live now.  Of course, Seattle is much larger, but the culture was very similar.  And in Ann Arbor, I still have to deal with crazy snowfalls and there are no mountain ranges nearby, but I suppose it's a good Seattle-substitute for the time being.

I'm sure there's a reason why I'm so drawn to Seattle, and I intend to find out why.  This trip was just the first step, I'm sure.  And while I'm content where I am right now, I'm looking forward to whatever the future holds, whether it happens in Michigan or Washington.

When you spend a week with middle schoolers and half your meals are different than theirs, lots of questions come up.

I tried my best to balance being honest with them about my decision to not eat meat while being sure not to push any sort of agenda.  My conviction and decision to stop eating meat was a decision made through a lot of prayer and research, not from someone pushing their beliefs on me.  I would never want to force this conviction on anyone.

Some of the kids thought I was crazy, but most accepted it for what it is; one small aspect of my life.

I find it odd that more people can't recognize that.

I'm not the type of guy that says, "OH, GROSS!" when I see someone eating meat.  I don't walk around with shirts that say things like "100% Vegetarian" or "Meat Is Murder."  I don't introduce myself as, "Hey, I'm Chris.  I don't eat meat."

But some people pretend that I do.  I get it, people are going to make jokes about my choice.  That's just what's going to happen.  But there are some people that feel like they need to comment on my meal choice every single time I eat with them.  They tell me how delicious their meat is and how I'm really missing out.

I can't even imagine the reactions I would get if every time I ate with someone, I told them they shouldn't eat meat.  And then took my vegetables on a fork and stuck them in their face saying, "Doesn't that look good?!"

Now, this is not everyone.  There are a lot of people in my life that just accept my decision and move on.  And there are some that just want to know my reasons.  I really don't mind sitting down and explaining my reasons.  I don't mind dialoguing and talking about it, but the badgering and snide remarks are tiring.

Of all the convictions and missions in my life, vegetarianism is very low on my list of priorities.  There are so many things more important to me.  I don't think that eating meat is sinful.  I don't think it's disgusting.  I don't think it makes you a bad person.  I saw a system that bothered me, I read what the Bible said about it, I prayed, and made a decision not to support a system that I believe is wrong.

If I were to die tomorrow, I don't want people thinking, "He didn't eat meat."  I don't want what I do/do not eat to define my life or my personality.  Does anyone want their life defined by food?  There are just so many things more important than that!

If you want to sit down and talk to me about my decision, I'll gladly tell you everything.  If you want me to cook you some meatless chili so you can see how amazing it is, I would love to.

But if we're hanging out and I don't grab a hamburger, is it really worth commenting on?  Am I making comments about your food choice?  Am I telling you all the reasons you shouldn't eat it?

What you eat is your decision, and I respect that.

Last week, I went on a trip to West Virginia with RustProof (the middle school ministry at my church) to paint houses of some less fortunate people. Six months ago, in an attempt to interest the 7th graders in my small group, I told them that I would go if any of them signed up. At the last minute, one guy did.

At first, I was kind of bummed. I was glad that one of my guys had stepped up and decided to go on the trip, but I selfishly realized that it meant I was going to give up half of my alloted vacation time to go on the trip too. That feeling quickly faded as I realized that even though this was a service trip, it had the potential to be fun. Even though I was really excited during the weeks leading up to the trip, I had no idea how much this one week was going to have an impact on me.

I think it's important for me first to explain why I do this ministry. Middle school was both the biggest turning point and biggest struggle for my spiritual journey. It was the time I really made my faith my own. I began to understand what a relationship with Christ looked like. But this was also the time I got completely turned off to church. I didn't feel like I belonged in church. I didn't feel like it was a place to find acceptance and love. So I stopped going to church until the middle of high school.

I realize now how much more fulfilling and expansive my faith could have been through high school and into college if I had someone there to help foster my spiritual growth. Instead, I went through that period of time trying to do it myself. So I really feel like middle school is such a crucial time for that growth, and I think God has been equipping me to minister to that age group.

So back to the trip. I didn't think that spending a week with a bunch of 12 and 13 year-olds would have such an effect on me. Besides the relationships I built and the work we did, there were a lot of spiritual lessons I learned (and relearned) in our time there:

God is in the silence. We had a discussion with the students about how it's crucial that we take some time to just be silent and listen to God. I realized that I just overload myself with work, hanging out, watching television, etc. I don't take time to just hang out and be with God.

One of the best things about being in the middle of nowhere is that there's absolutely no cell phone service. Normally, I'm tethered to my phone. I'm checking email, texting, facebooking, reading news, etc. When you don't have the Internet or a cell phone, you find a lot more time to spend with God.

We have to insulate ourselves. This doesn't mean we have to cut ourselves off, it just means that the people we spend time with influence who we are. We need to make sure we're engaging in relationships that help us grow.

I have lots of friends that are all in different places emotionally and spiritually. While I love them all, I need to make sure that I have enough relationships that are going to help me grow in my faith, too.

We don't always have to act grown-up. I'm usually pretty reserved. I don't want people to see me as immature or think that I don't "act my age." But this trip (along with other things I've done in this ministry) have really taught me the value of just letting go of that sometimes and just having fun; just acting like a kid.

This trip really reminded me what it was like to be a kid. I know I'm only 23, but you forget that pretty quickly. When everything is about deadlines, bills, email and meetings, it's easy to forget what it's like to just be carefree.

Middle schoolers are awesome and under-estimated. A lot of times when we look at middle school students, we just see drama, immaturity and poor hygiene. But for the most part, they can carry on some pretty legitimate conversations and they're also a lot of fun.  Not to mention, when given some direction and proper motivation, they can be extremely focused.  These kids worked so hard and put in so much effort to paint houses for people they had never met before.  There are so few adults willing to do that.

Too many of us are seeing middle schoolers as a burden instead of a blessing. We're waiting for them to grow out of their awkwardness so they can be "productive." By doing so, we're not only robbing them of value, but we're robbing ourselves of the experiences and memories we can have with them.

This past week, I didn't feel like a babysitter watching some rambunctious kids; I felt like I was hanging out with a whole bunch of my younger brothers and sisters. I was talking to them, listening to their stories, playing basketball with them, teaching them and showing them love and respect.

It ended up being one of the best weeks of my life. I'm so glad that one student took me up on my offer and forced me to give up one week of vacation for a lifetime of memories.

I have a strange relationship with change.  I love it and I hate it.  I long for it and I dread it.

I have not lived in the same place for more than a year since I was 17.  While moving to a new place is always exciting, I don't feel like I have a home.  And, again, this is something I both love and hate.  I love that I shake it up a bit each year and move to a new location, find new places to hang out, meet new people, etc.  But at the same time, it'd be nice to have a place to really call home. (My mom will tell me that my home is my parents' house, but we all know that's different.)

My feelings on change extend into my relationships, too.  Above all things on earth, I value my relationships with people.  Relationships are inevitably going to change, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse and sometimes with little or no effect.  While I love building new relationships and making new friends, I find that I have a hard time letting my existing relationships change (especially for the worse).  When I have what I feel is a good relationship, I hate seeing it change to something less than I desire.

I need to learn to accept changing relationships.  Just because a relationship might change in a way that I perceive as negative doesn't mean that relationship is dead or dying.  It just means it's different.  I can't force relationships to be something they're not.

When relationships change for the worse, you can either accept it or reject it.  Sometimes, the relationship is worth fighting for.  Sometimes, you just have to surrender and let the relationship go where it needs to go.

Neither choice is easy.  And the choice is not always ours to make.

“It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things.” -Donald Miller

Happy Easter!

I had a pretty awesome and interesting dream last night that I would like to share with all of you:

There were a bunch of people (some people I knew, some I did not) in the humongous mansion and God was there.  He told us to cast all the demons out of the house and into the basement.  So we were all walking around the house casting hundreds of demons into the basement.  It seemed that we did this for several hours.  God would walk around and help out those that had trouble with specific demons or whatever.

Once we were finished, God told us all to head home, but to return first thing in the morning.  As we got on the freeway, you could still see the house, but it looked completely different.  It looked brand new and exciting.

The next morning, we returned to the house, which for some reason now included a rollercoaster!  There were tons of people we knew there.  We began walking around, up and down all 6 levels, just greeting people and saying hello.  I noticed that it was a mix of people I knew that knew Christ and people that didn't. I kept thinking how great the house was without all those demons hanging around causing problems, but I wondered how long it would last.  Would something release them?  I began to wonder who would be the cause of that happening.

I headed over to one of the side rooms and spoke with a group of people.  I checked my phone and noticed I had a bunch of new emails, so I started going through them.  There was one email from Comedy Central (for whatever reason), so I clicked on it.  It was some video of a stand-up comedian.  As soon as I started that video, I heard a loud noise as all the demons began flying out from the basement below.

That's when I woke up.

Strange dream, I know.  Here's my interpretation:

I know that I go through times in my life where I really don't think I need Christ.  I just think that I've really never done anything that bad, so what am I being saved from?  And at the same time, I can be very judgmental of people who have lived lives of deep sin, whether they've been forgiven or not.  I guess in this way, I sometimes think of myself as above people.  As if, maybe if the world were given to me first, then it wouldn't have been screwed up.  Such a humble mindset, right?

I think this dream was telling me that even if we were to start over, someone (all of us) would screw it up.  In the dream, it was me that screwed it up.  Whatever that stand-up video was about caused me to sin in some way, and the house was brought back to it's original state.  While I was walking around wondering who would be the one to cause the fall of that house, I never thought it would be me.  I mean, God called me into this house to drive out all the demons, there's no way I could be the cause of them flooding back in.  But it was me.

This dream is definitely a great reminder that we as humans cannot live a perfect and sin-free life.  But, thankfully, God isn't forcing us to.  Even though we have chosen to live life apart from God, He has given us the opportunity to live life with Him through Christ.  No matter how many times we fail or how we turn our backs on Him, His Love and Grace will continue to cover us.

Good thing God knows me better than I know myself and loves me just the same.

This past week has brought increasingly beautiful weather.  The sunshine, the melting snow; it's just a great feeling of revival.

I'm still kind of struggling with where I am in my life.  On one hand, I feel like I am ready to take progressive steps and reach that "grown up" stage of my life.  On the other hand, I want to stay in the young "college" stage of my life.

I think it's because I haven't made very many mistakes with my life.

I don't mean for that to sound arrogant, but I feel it's true.  A lot (most) people I know have these mistakes they've made throughout their life that they've learned from.  Like, "Oh man, I got so drunk that one time that I ended up sleeping with this random girl, blah blah blah."  I don't have those mistakes.

I've always lived a pretty safe life.  I grew up in a Christian home and I accepted Christ at a young age.  Throughout middle school, high school and college, my faith dictated my actions.  I've never been a hardcore partier; I've never had any flings or one-night stands (or even many-night stands).  I've never been in financial trouble; I've never tried any drugs.  I just never had that big mistake (or series of mistakes) that have made me re-evaluate my life and change for the better.

So every once in a while, I go through a season in my life where I start thinking, "Is it worth it?  Is it worth ALWAYS worrying what God thinks about my actions?  Do I really need to live this 'safe' life?  Am I missing out?"  And I start justifying it in ways like, "Well, God gives grace, right?  I'll be forgiven. I know a lot of Christians that used to live a sinful life, and now they're fine."  Sounds rational, right?

It's also selfish.

And it's not who I am.

I haven't made decisions to live this type of life because I'm afraid of God's punishment.  I know I'm forgiven.  I know I'm loved.  I've made these decisions because I love Christ.  I've made these decisions because God knows what's best for me.

Simply following Christ is not difficult, but our society has made it seem like it is.  They make it seem like we're giving up everything.  We are taught that satisfaction and fulfillment come from temporary things.  We're made to believe that the only way to learn is to experience and make mistakes.

Following Christ requires you to see things from a big-picture perspective.  It requires you to look past your own understanding and your own timeframe.  It requires you to live for a purpose greater than yourself.

If that means foregoing some temporary entertainment in order to find lasting fulfillment and purpose, it's a small price to pay.

The song "Chapter I" by John Reuben has always really resonated with me on this topic.  Check it out:

I hate when I feel so comfortable with my life. I hate when it feels like I'm just going through the motions. When each day is the same as the last and a template for the next. When each weekend is predictable and ends with a feeling of waste.

But the truth is, I'm a coward. I ask God to shake things up in my life - to offer me new opportunities; ways out of my comfort zone. And when those opportunities are presented, I shy away from them. I make excuses about it not being the right time. I make excuses about the people and things I'll miss. I make excuses that it's just not convenient for anyone.

This perpetuates a vicious circle. I get uncomfortable with the fact that I'm so comfortable with my life -> I look for opportunities to make me uncomfortable -> I get uncomfortable with the idea of leaving my comfort zone -> I find comfort in my static life -> I get uncomfortable with the fact that I'm so comfortable with my life

I know I'm not the only one that experiences this. In fact, I'd venture to say at least 95% of people experience exactly this.

So should I bury the gifts that God has given me? Put them away until it seems like the path is clear and convenient?

Or should I make a move away from comfort? Take a leap, trust God, follow my heart?

The answer seems obvious, right?

Then how come I always seem to pick the wrong answer?

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate winter?  I'm rather satisfied with all other seasons, but I am certain I could live without winter.  Allow me to vent my hatred in list form:

Snow.  Snow is beautiful when it first falls.  Then it becomes grossly soiled and eventually turns into slush.  It makes otherwise competent drivers into out-of-control demolition derby participants.  It makes going anywhere a chore and a life-threatening endeavor.  And it's cold.

The cold.  I can deal with freezing temperatures.  They're not comfortable, but they're not painful.  In Michigan, we tend to drop way below freezing.  So every little wisp of wind feels like needles being jammed into your face.  I happen to have sensitive eyes that become waterfalls of tears when cold air hits them.  This does not help the pain.

My mood.  I'm always down during the winter.  I wouldn't say I'm depressed or sad, I just feel sluggish and energy-lacking.  The sun just provides so much energy and good-feelings, and when it's gone, it's definitely noticeable.

The cold.  Did I mention this already?  I feel it needs to be mentioned again.  I really hate the extreme cold.

It came to my attention a few years ago that there is a solution to my winter hatred: moving.

It seemed like a simple solution, at first.  Find a place that is generally always the perfect temperature (between 65 and 75 degrees) and move there.  I found such a place and began, years ago, planning my move.

Then, I realized it wasn't so easy.  As much as I hate Michigan weather, I love Michigan.  I love the people in Michigan, the places, the nature (in the summer).  I love my family and friends.

So, for now, having those things in my life are more important to me than living in the luxury of good weather. But, maybe one day, everyone I love will realize the same thing I did.  Then we can all move, together, to that place that has it all, including the perfect weather.

I remember the day we got her.  I was 10.  We took a trip to the Michigan Humane Society, all in high hopes of finding an addition to our family.  She was part of an unwanted litter.  She was small, black, and playful.  I remember how she came to the front of the cage to greet us; how she looked us in the eyes.

I remember the day we brought her home.  After days of deliberation, we had decided to call her Scout, after the main character of To Kill a Mockingbird.  She started out as an "outside" dog, but none of us had the heart to leave her out there all night.  So she became a "back room only" dog, but the way she stood at the gate, staring at us, made it tough for us to not let her in.  She became a part of our family.

I remember the day we left her outside while we took a quick trip to the store, and it started to storm.  We came home to find the fence forced open, and Scout was nowhere to be found.  We were all devastated by the thought of losing her.  Only a short time later, we got a call from the person who had found her.  We were all so happy to see her, and she was so happy to be home.  She never ran away again.

I remember the way she always found her way into our home movies, whether we wanted her to or not.

I remember how she would start running around the house at top speed at 10pm every night, right on cue.

I remember the way you would rub her stomach and yell, "Piranah!" and she would turn on her back and snap at the air.

I remember how she started to turn gray as she got older.  I remember how she started to struggle to stand up and walk up stairs.  I remember how she would start choking out of nowhere, sometimes vomiting in order to breathe.

Most of all, I remember just how much love I had for this little puppy that we brought home one day, and how she stuck around to watch all of us grow up.

My dad called me today to tell me that Scout had passed away.  He found her on the back patio, lying next to the door of the house she had won her way into as a pup; the house of the family that loved her as much as she loved us.

I'm going to miss her a lot.