when i was twelve years old, my mom sold our house in weatherford, oklahoma, because it was a sad place for all of us to be living. she’d just divorced my father, i was miserable in school because i was getting beat up physically and emotionally all the time, and we were all just generally completely miserable.

on my first day at school at brink junior high in moore, oklahoma, a “white flight” suburb that has become the white trash capital of the greater oklahoma city metropolitan area, i met a kid named eric ankenman. for some reason i know that the date was august 24, 1992. we were friends from that day forward, and we survived the general malaise and rollercoaster that was secondary school by banding together, being smart, kicking under our breaths at the stupid people we had to see every day. he is a big part of the way that God made me a believer. he introduced me to rich mullins. he’s getting married in january.

it’s eleven months away – great – but i just found out. and i’m excited for him, because he’s had quite a rocky road when it comes to his relationships with women. but as far as i am concerned, i am not okay. i’ve listened to that caedmon’s call song “can’t lose you” about a million times now, because it describes so perfectly how i’m feeling. i’m scared that everyone’s going to get married and make babies – of whom i am intensely afraid – and i’m going to still be here, trying to write, living at home, until the end of time.

joel new told me last night that this is a stupid way to feel, and he is correct. but that does not make the feelings go away. it doesn’t make it all right, and it doesn’t make me not afraid. as great as it has been to marry off everybody in the past few years, because it has, i am also feeling more alone than usual.

two nights ago i decided to buy “I Heart Huckabees” on DVD and invite Laurie and Jaye and Erica and Alex over to watch it. I said I’d make curry chicken, which I’ve learned how to make recently, and we’d have wine and dinner and watch the movie. It was great. I was with two couples.

Erica told me last night she’s been feeling left out of our group lately. I wanted to be like, “Honey, you don’t know from left out.”

In general I’m just sad, not because I don’t want my friends to get married, but because I have some truly fucked-up ideas about what it means when people get married – that they are automatically more grown-up, spiritual, connected to Jesus, plugged-in, and happier. This is, of course, patently untrue – “A lie from the pit of Hell” as Greg Farrand would say – but in a dark part of me I buy into it. I wish I wasn’t so sick.

You know, three months ago I was fine with being single. Then I met Jonathan and had that whole thing happen, and I got hurt. Then I started missing the shit out of Joel and am really hurting about how I treated him. And now, I’m not okay. And every time I get to where I’m okay to be single, I meet someone, and the whole process starts over again.

last night laurie’s little sister, carrie, had a birthday party for her boyfriend. i went because i love carrie branscum, and because there were free margaritas, tequila shots, and hpnotiq. all of which are things i love. laurie told me that i should come because there was going to be a “cute and sophisticated” gay boy there named Chris (although, I’ve really sworn off of dating people with that first name). I admit, i was intrigued but just couldn’t get it up emotionally to meet this guy. i was quite relieved when he never showed up.

then, i spent the entire night with laurie and jaye, carrie and taha, and another couple. i was a seventh wheel. so, i got funny, danced like a spastic white person, smoked a tiny little pack of cigarettes, and tried not to think about my own shitty little feelings. i missed church because i was hung over.

what does all this mean? I dunno. it means I am a sinner, because, well, everything seems to mean that. which isn’t to play down that fact, but I think it means more than just that. it means that i am bad at taking care of myself, and being alone, but also, that i really do believe i won’t be worthy of a real, healthy, lasting relationship until i’ve published my book, caught myself up financially, gotten out of oklahoma, gotten into perfect shape physically, and figured out exactly how much jesus loves me and found humility and grace to love all people.

so, quarter after five next tuesday.

i know this thinking is stupid. i do. but it’s there, and i hate it, and it seems to be staring me in the face a lot these days. i’m starting to hate oklahoma. i am praying to God that this degree i’m getting proves to be much more useful than the one i already have, and that i can find just the smallest measure of success, just enough to get me somewhere else in life.

ever since i left yale i’ve been spinning my wheels. getting back into school may be the first step out of that mud pit i was in, and i am grateful – so so so grateful – for the chance to do this degree. but i’m worried that it won’t work out, because very little has been working out in my life the past several years. i’m scared that i’m going to get plowed under again. mom told me the other day that this degree is my “last chance,” because after this she and dad can’t pay for me to go to school anymore. thanks. takes the pressure right off.

so pretty much, things have to work out. and i know that they will, although not in any way I can imagine because God has these crazy plans to prosper me and not to harm me. i’m just confused and frightened and not trusting like I’d like to be, and, well, you can pray for me.

today, i don’t like the person that i am. but i know that Jesus does. i am praying to see pleasure on my Father’s face, because I need a cheerleader right about now. I’m going to turn that caedmon’s song off and listen to something a little more hopeful.

current song: “Got To Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn. and yes, I am dancing around the kitchen like a spastic white person.

I just took the Worldview Test for the second time today, and for the second time I have been informed that I am a “Secular Humanist Worldview Thinker.” Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t like people enough to be a secular humanist, and that this is actually one of the worst insults you can level at someone like me, who believes so strongly in the Fall, in its necessity for having a clear view of the world, of God, and of oneself.

Granted, this test (http://www.worldviewweekend.com/test/register.php) was brought to you by Worldview Weekend.com, a far right blog site, so I should probably just take it with a grain of salt and let it go. But you see, they called me a secular humanist. This I cannot readily forgive.

The best part about this, of course, is that I pretty much failed all of their tests. The test as a whole is divided into sections: Civil Government, Economics, Family, Law, Religion, Science, and Social Issues. On Civil Government, Economics, Family, Law, and Science I scored as either a Secular Humanist Worldview Thinker, or, even worse, a Communist/Marxist/Socialist/Secular Humanist Worldview Thinker. On Religion and Social Issues, however, I seem to have a Strong Biblical Worldview. So, as a Christian, I’m making about D-minus.

So I decided I’d better put on some Rich Mullins, and fast. Current iPod song: “Elijah.”

See, it’s not the fact that some right-wing freak at a computer screen in East Cupcake Idaho thinks I’m a Communist that’s bothering me. It’s the fact that because he and I disagree on things like welfare, the lottery, and whether or not the founding fathers were believers – I mean, let’s not even get into abortion and homosexuality – that I am not a believer. Or, at the very least, I am much lacking in my faith.

The funny thing about the test – other than the fact that it exists – is that there are five options for every question: No Opinion, Strongly Agree, Tend to Agree, Tend to Disagree, Strongly Disagree. Pretty straightforward, except that when you get your answers, the right answers are printed beneath them, and they are always either “Strongly Agree” or “Strongly Disagree.” And there are bunch of what I call “bait questions” – things like “Physically and mentally healthy adults that do not work should not be protected from suffering the consequences of their action.” How on Earth are you supposed to answer that thoughtfully?

You might say, “Hey, Nate, what’s the big deal?” Unless you’re one of my lovely Reformed friends, in which case, you probably get it too.

In the big scheme of thing, this tiny test is not a big deal. What it represents, however, is huge, because it is one of the most common perversions of the Gospel that I see in 21st century American Christianity, which is the idea that you aren’t a true believer – not a real one – if you’re not also on board with a certain political agenda and lifestyle. While I do believe that our faith should inform the way we view the world, and politics, I am not sure that a Christian worldview sees people on welfare as “cheats,” automatically signs on to the death penalty, and dismisses evolutionary theory out of hand. More than this, however, I do not believe that a Christian worldview is one in black-and-white. I don’t believe that these issues define the quality or existence of one’s faith in Jesus. I don’t want anyone praying for me because I don’t view Genesis 1 as being a literal account of the creation of the world 6,000 years ago in six days.

I could argue about the Bible being a spiritual work and not a scientific one. I could argue chapters in Luke that seem to me to refute the idea of supply-side economics. But I don’t really care. Feel free to be a conservative Republican and *shiver* vote for George W. Bush. Just don’t expect to enjoy hanging out with me. But don’t try to tell me that I occupy a lesser place in the Body of Christ, that my faith is suffering, or that I am in any way of a lower station because I voted for Kerry, am pro-choice, anti-death penalty, and gay. My faith is sustained by the Holy Spirit, and it is on this basis that I am called the adopted son of God.

I’m a pretty thoughtful person, so these thoughts don’t get in my head and screw with me. But they used to. And they screw with a lot of people I know and care about. I have friends who automatically assumed that because they were Christian that they had to vote for Bush. I have others who assume they cannot become believers because of their political stance, or the fact that they buy into evolutionary theory. This kind of thinking subtly turns people away from the Savior by setting for them a standard which is at once far too low, and far too high. It is far too low in that God has much higher aspirations for our sanctification than the refinement of our political beliefs and the elimination of personal intellectual diversity and dialogue. It is too high in that there is no room for doubt, disagreement, shades of gray, or even for thinking for oneself. One is expected, upon coming to Christ, to immediately know all the answers to all the questions, when in fact, the moment of one’s conversion is the moment at which questioning finally becomes okay, and safe.

I’m trying really hard not to judge the modern church too harshly, because she is the Bride of Christ, and we all know that she is flawed, and being dragged along toward redemption. Still, when I see the Gospel – and God’s people – being screwed with like this, I can’t help but get angry. So I must pray for repentance, for the courage to look inside and see my own sin, to love the people who are causing me so much offense.

Also, I must repent of my evil Commie ways and turn to a worldview that is more friendly to rich, white, upperclass straight fundamentalists. Because they don’t have it easy enough.

We’re still a work in progress here.