That's what I am. A friend urged me to update, so here I am. I've just been too busy for Xanga lately. It's been a while since I made Xanga a part of my routine, which recently has been "wake up relatively early, exercise, shower, study scripture, study Japanese, go to work." It's a good morning routine. I haven't worked anything solid out for the evenings yet, and I'm not sure I want to. Even I don't like having too much structure. I guess I spend most of my evenings studying and practicing guitar.

I'd really like to get back into writing (wait, was I ever actually into writing?) soon, but I just don't think it's going to happen. For one thing, I just don't think it would be the best use of my time right now. I've got the JLPT coming up again in early December, and I play guitar at church on most weekends, so I need to study and practice. Another thing, I feel like my personal life is too personal to write about anymore, especially as I go through bouts with doubts and try to reforge my faith. If I were more creative or could afford the time to be more creative, I could do some creative writing or write about non-personal things, but I'm not and I can't. So rather than boring you by writing repetitious re-tellings of my daily routines, I think I'll spare you and just wait until I actually have something worth writing to post again. Could be a while, but who knows? I do love to contradict myself. Anyway, take care. I'll be kinda keeping up with reading subscriptions, so I'll see you all around.


Love. Peace. One-leg squats ftw.

My parents live pretty close to the airport, so it's not uncommon to see big metal birds in the sky here. Every time I saw one I was reminded of how soon I'd be leaving. Here I am now, updating my Xanga at 2am, trying to stay up all night before my flight so I can sleep better on the plane. This trip has been longer and more eventful than any other, both in good ways and in bad. I can't elaborate too much on that, but I can say that overall, I've had an excellent time back home and in Louisville.

There were too many people that we didn't get to see, but we did get to spend good quality time with nearly everyone that we did see. I have many a picture of many a good time to upload. Most of them will go on Facebook, but here are a few.
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The air was thick with his stench and difficult to breathe. The entire train car had been contaminated by this one filthy homeless man. He sat there with empty seats on either side of him and had mysterious bags in his lap, one of which contained a large toy bus. I had nearly made the mistake of sitting next to him when I had initially rushed onto the train and spotted the open seat, a real rarity on the subway at rush hour. Fortunately, the odor filled my nostrils and repelled me just in time to allow me to semi-tactfully steer away from the seat and stand at a distance. Far enough to breathe a little easier. Close enough to observe. I stood and watched as other commuters did the exact same thing. How many times had he seen this trick? How obvious and laughable were our reactions?

The Japanese seem to relish the idea of endurance. It's a necessity for survival in this little world of hectic schedules and often oppressive hierarchical relationships. One result of this endurance mentality is the collective poker face, a phenomenon which may occur in many countries, but the Japanese take it to a whole new level. It can most often be seen on public transport. So, here is this man with two empty seats next to him on a crowded train full of blank faces. He doesn't seem to mind. He talks to himself a little and smiles, revealing a crooked row of orange teeth. Then he pulls some pocky from one of his many bags and starts chomping away at it. Drool, like I've never seen before, oozed from between his lips and into his lap. He wiped it away with his hand and continued. The Japanese may have a borderline masochistic understanding of endurance, but it was obvious that no one was quite up to this challenge. No one was going to sit next to this untouchable.

There was a battle going on in my heart and mind this whole time. I imagine there were several battle fields on that train. "Poor guy, but what could I possibly do?" It was still difficult to breathe, but it was even more diffcult to cope with the cognitive dissonance that came in waves as I imagined how Jesus would react in this situation and compared that to my own very human, very predictable reaction of just standing there and trying to ignore the guy.

"He hasn't sought my help or anything, and for all I know he's perfectly content, the happiest guy on the train. Who's to say he needs anything from me, especially my pity?" These are perfectly reasonable concerns, but none of them were on the front line of this battle. No, no, no. On the front line of this battle were far less considerate fellows. "I don't want that horrible smell to rub off on me any more than it probably has already. I don't want to share in this guy's shame.What if he touches me with his slobbery hands? It would be so awkward to do or say something nice." These were the front liners who ultimately won the battle and kept me from sitting next to the guy.

Of course I didn't want the stink, the slobber, or the shame. Who would? But the real tragedy of the situation was that I wasn't even willing to sit next to another human being who needs love just as much as I do and probably gets much less of it. Maybe he didn't need or want anything from me, but the tragedy is that even though I felt like he did, I was just too selfish to oblige. I still don't know what exactly I could or should have done, but I'm fairly certain that it would have started with a seat.

This experience bothers me even more because I'm a so-called Christian ("Christian" meaning "Christ-like"). As a Christian, I believe what the Bible says about Jesus. That he touched the untouchables, loved the unlovables, criticised the holier-than-thous, and endured all kinds of ridicule, criticism, and abuse. And the real kicker, that he took my shame with him to the cross so that I could face God with a pure heart. That is the essence of the Christ I have faith in, yet I reflected none of it on the subway yesterday. For me, that kind of selfishness is way more shameful than what I feared on the train. I just realized it a bit too late. Hopefully, I won't make the same mistake again.


Love. Peace. More Jesus in the world.