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Gen-Con 2013, Day 3: Never-Ending Battle Against Evil

(Continued from day 2).

My apologies, True Believers! I did my best to try to post a daily update on my Gen-Con exploits, but busyness and sleep deprivation joined forces to prevent me. šŸ™

Regardless, I shall regale with with more stories.

I operated on the least amount of sleep–5 1/2 hours, at most–this day. I was slightly loopy and I think I slurred my words a few times. Thankfully, adrenaline and the copious creativity managed to fuel me the entire day.

My cosplay was Superman. Capt. Charisma said it was a “bold costume” (I’m not sure what he meant by that). It’s a good thing since, as you’ll soon read, I “battled” two nefarious characters.

After manning my table for around an hour, I joined Eric for a swing dance lesson. Along the way, I met young woman who had designed her own TARDIS dress and a white Dalek. This resulted in a deadly stare down.Ā Anyway, as for the lessons, it was very fun. I met several interesting girls, including one named Susan. She was a lot of fun to dance with. The lesson itself was taught by a local dance teacher, who called himself a “raging geek.” It covered the same steps I already knew, but like I said, it was still fun.

On the way back to my table, I saw the now completed gigantic balloon sculpture of Cthulhu, which had been made by a talented artist. I couldn’t risk the opportunity for a photo-op.

With Superman (me) here, we stand a chance against the evil Elder God!
With Superman (me) here, we stand a chance against the evil Elder God!

After snapping a few more pictures of cosplayers, I returned to my table. That afternoon I met a young man who could solve a Rubik’s Cube in under a minute. I have the video to prove it (it’ll be part of a “highlight reel” I’m editing).

DSCN5945That doesn’t compare to the 4-year-old Ā little girl I met. Her name was Darcy. Walking with her mother and two siblings, she saw the kobold sculpture on my fellow writer Edward J. Russell’s table and thought it was a dinosaur. I seized the opportunity to say, “Do you like dinosaurs?” and pointed atĀ Destroyer. She got excited, so I said she needed to get her mom to buy it for her. I even told her to give her the pouty face, which she did. Then she looked atĀ Pandora’s BoxĀ and said, “A ‘Halo’ book!” Then atĀ The Day AfterĀ and said, “A teddy bear!” I spent several minutes talking with Darcy and her family, always trying to get Darcy to convince her mother to buy a book for her. It almost worked, I think. I took a few pictures with her and her siblings before they left. At least I entertained them.

I had another writing seminar at 3pm with Michael A. Stackpole. This was one on writing a successful book series. While I realized I may have taken this one the year before, I ran into my friend Becky Blomberg while I was in it. When we stepped out, I met her friend Kate, who was dressed as a ranger, complete with facepaint. After a few photos, I returned to my table.

Lyric and Lyssa from the Dwarven Tavern came to me with their father, saying they needed to interview right then, which I obliged. They were some of the coolest people I met the entire convention.

Saturday night my big event was the Five Year Mission show, so I changed into my Capt. Kirk costume again and headed to the Westin Hotel. Along the way, I met a kid dressed as Link from “Legend of Zelda,” who was playing an ocarina. While I took a few pictures, I kid you not, a Joker cosplayer sat next to me and started meditating! (I love insane crossovers!)

Music DOES soothe the savage beast!
Music DOES soothe the savage beast!

I talked with a pair of girls standing outside the ballroom was being held in, and I learned they were helping the band. Not only that, I learned one of them was engaged to a member of the band. In fact, she had started as a fangirl! It was a wonderful “nerd love”: story. I talked with the other while waiting for the doors to open and inadvertently became the start of the line–a line that stretched around the hall! The crowd had to be twice the size of the one from last year’s show.

Me (center) with Five Year Mission.
Me (center) with Five Year Mission.

This year, the band had an opening act: a rapper named Andy D. All I’ll say about him is that I didn’t care for him. Regardless, I was happy to see Five Year Mission take the stage. They played several new songs from their upcoming album, along with some of my favorites from the CD I bought last year. However, while last year they selected an audience member to be the Gorn, now the lizard creature is their mascot. He wandered the ballroom, watching the show and interacting with fans–including me! I’d been running around taking photos and videos, and I saw him coming down the aisle, so I snapped a photo. He even stopped to pose. I stepped aside and motioned for him to go by, but he instead attacked me! I (gently) punched him, neglecting to do the trademark Kirk double-fist swing (which might’ve worked), but to no avail. Finally, I ducked down. He showed mercy (I guess the bandĀ didĀ reform him) and walked on.

The best moment of the show was when they re-enacted the fight between Kirk and Spock in the episode “Amok Time” during the song for that episode (which I;m listening to as I write this, ironically). These guys are such fun, and they love their fans.

I met up with Eric and Darrin. During our walk back to the parking garage, I ask We were ed Darrin how he did in the HeroScape tournament, which he told me wasĀ theĀ national tourney for the game. He won it! Yes, I am friends with the national HeroScape champion (who’s too humble to brag). He defeated the longtime reigning champ in the semifinals. The prize was the increasingly rare first master set for the game. As he told me what happened, I felt like the three of us needed mugs of root beer to clink together like vikings in Valhalla.

We did our best to get to sleep earlier than usual at the hotel. We were sorta successful.

(Continued in day 4).

Gen-Con 2013, Day 2: Fear of Commitment

(Continued from day 1).

Today has been busy, and yet not so. I cosplayed as Captain America. After exploring the exhibitors’ hall a bit, I went to my table. While there was more traffic than yesterday, I still encountered many uncommitted buyers. They still wanted to survey the area to see what else they could. Many promised to return tomorrow or Sunday.

At noon, I attended two writing seminars. The first was on cater building. One of the writers on the panel was a professor/writer who hosted a podcast that interviewed writers. I asked him if he needed more interviewees, but they were booked until December. Afterward, I might get in.

The second seminar was on networking (not name dropping). It was an informative panel. One of the writers present even showed up in a corset she was goaded into wearing!

When I returned, I met my favorite customer of the con so far. A young woman named Emmanuell. She was cosplaying as classic Uhura. My writer neighbor Ed had told her to wait for me because I wore my Capt. Kirk outfit yesterday (so he says… :P). She was a sweet girl, but disappointed nobody else in her group dressed up. She bought a copy ofĀ Pandora’s BoxĀ I told her to come to the Five Year Mission show tomorrow night, and she said she might (albeit in another costume).

Emmanuell and I.
Emmanuell and I.

I also met one of the reviewers who stopped yesterday while Eric watched my table. Two girls named Lyric and Lyssa (they have such awesome parents!) They work on their parents’ podcast, the Dwarven Tavern. I enjoyed talking with them and gave them free copies of all my books. They’ll interview me tomorrow.

By the way, a lady amateur director offered Capt. Charisma a movie role. šŸ˜

My costume was a huge hit. Even at a con, with thousands of other cosplayers, I’m the most popular guy in the room. It helped I was a rare Cap cosplayer (so far). I was popular at my table and wandering the halls. A three-year-old boy named Connor especially loved me, so much so he warned me there was a Dalek down the hall (I shoulda said I’d kick its ton can keister).

I managed to arrive at my next event, a photography seminar at the Westin Hotel, only slightly late due to the many photo-ops. It was two hours long, but not as good as I was hoping. šŸ™ It was at least informative.

My final event was a long HeroScape open play with custom figures. I played a game with Eric, who had the Wrecking Crew plus Lizard, and I had the original X-Men. I was cleaning his clock until he made a crazy comeback. But it didn’t compare to Darrin using the cheapest HeroScape armyĀ EVER!Ā It shall not be spoken of again.

We left afterward. Sadly, when we reached the hotel and I undressed, I discovered the catch on my Cap costume zipper had broken. šŸ™ If anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know!

On to day 3! The craziest of them all! Even more sleep deprivation!

(Continued in day 3).

Gen-Con 2013, Prep Day & Day 1: No Money Today

After a three-hour trip, I arrived yesterday in Indianapolis at a Hampton Inn and met my friends Eric and Darrin, who were both attending Gen-Con. (I was glad I an audiobook of Moby Dick with me). Darrin was kind enough to get us a room. I must say, Iā€™m not used to staying in a hotel. The last time I did, if I remember right, was in 2004 on a college-sponsored mission trip to New York City, and it was a barely passable motel. To be honest, I feel like Iā€™m being treated like a king at this hotel!

Anyway, Eric and I went to the Indiana Convention Center to pick up tickets and set up. Like last year, hauling my boxes of books was a workout that left me with a sore lower back, albeit briefly. I met a few of my neighbors, although not as many as I did last year. The writer next to me is a gentleman I call ā€œCaptain Charismaā€ because he sells his books like an auctioneer who was once a used car salesman. Heā€™s difficult to compete with.

After setting up, I met Eric and we wandered back to the parking garage, taking a little time to listen to a free Five Year Mission show in a beer tent (no, we didnā€™t drink, but I did contemplate getting a Tribble drunk. Yes, I’m a nerd, and I think about such things!.

We returned just in time to get the pizzas Darrin ordered. He got four because there was a special. It was way more than we needed, so weā€™ll be eating the leftovers all weekend. We played a few games of Space Alert, revised some HeroScape custom figures Eric and I created, and went to bed.

We were all so high on excitement, we could hardly sleep.

After eating a better breakfast than Iā€™ve had in months, I dressed in my first cosplay, Capt. James T. Kirk, complete with communicator and phaser. We made excellent time getting to the ICC, though we did have a long walk.

The doors opened one hour early at 9pm. Sadly, I donā€™t have much to say about my sales today. Almost everyone today didnā€™t buy anything from anyone. They either didnā€™t have money or wanted to peruse before buying. I only made two sales and donated one novel to an auction a group is doing to raise money for a food pantry. I did, however, get many people interested in Children of the Wells, including a fellow author who was so intrigued by it, he kept asking me questions about it for 10-15 minutes.

My highlight today was meeting Walter Koenig, an actor best known for playing Pavel Chekhov in the original Star Trek and Bester in Babylon 5. I was surprised to see he was so soft-spoken, I could barely hear him, and he himself seemed to be a little hard of hearing. I got an autograph, but like last year, I wanted to give the celebrities free copies of my books. I asked him, ā€œDo you accept gifts from fans?ā€ He replied, ā€œYes, yes, yes!ā€ while pretending to gobble up food. I gave him copies of my books, showing him where I had signed Pandoraā€™s Box, saying, ā€œThanks for the memories! Keep going boldly where no man has gone before!ā€ He saw that the book was dedicated to my mother, which he said was ā€œvery nice.ā€ I took a picture with him, and he held my book up to the camera. Finally, I asked him, ā€œWhoā€™d win in a fight, Chekhov or Bester?ā€ He said, ā€œBester has certain advantages.ā€

Me and the surprisingly goofy Walter Koenig. He was kind enough to show off my novel.
Me and the surprisingly goofy Walter Koenig. He was kind enough to show off my novel.

(I wish he had said what Nick Hayden said, ā€œBester. He is a nuclear wessel.ā€)

I went a writing seminar taught by Michael A. Stackpole on writing in the digital age. I realized I went to the same one last year, but the material was different. It was reassuring to hear things had changed for the better for indie writers like myself.

From 7pm-9pm, I played a game I used to play every Saturday with friends in college: Epic Duels. But instead of it being Star Wars-themed, it was a custom version made for the anime franchise Mobile Suit Gundam. I had a great time talking with the players about animes and Epic Duels variations.

I finished the day by briefly watching Eric kick butt at the board game Monsterpocalypse and playing in a card draw Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 tourney. In this game, our characters are selected by drawing names from a hat, essentially. I didnā€™t usually get characters I was good with, so I lost in the first round.

Meeting up with Darrin and Eric, we drove back to the hotel.

Expect more pictures after the con!

(Continued in day 2).

For the Least of These

I re-learned last week that if thereā€™s one thing that annoys me about big cities, itā€™s their traffic jams. Traffic was thicker than I expected when I reached Grand Rapids, Michigan. All due to construction. I called my friend Eric, who lived 30-40 minutes past the city, that Iā€™d be late that weā€™d have to leave almost as soon as I arrived to make it to the Grand Rapids Original Swing Society dance. He suggested I just hang out in town and his brother would bring him to the city. I concurred.

I took an exit into downtown and parked at a park across from the Grand Rapids Museum. It was around 5pm. The dance would be at 7pm down the street at Rosa Park Circle. I decided Iā€™d hang out in the park and do my online volunteering with RemedyLive on my new iPhone 4S. I sat on a park bench and signed on.

After about ten minutes or so, a middle-aged black man wearing worn-out clothes and a backpack walked up to me and asked what I was doing in the park. I told him. The he said, ā€œMy name is Michael. Whatā€™s Yours?ā€

ā€œNate.ā€

ā€œMay I sit down?ā€

ā€œSure.ā€

He sat next to me and told me he was from Florida and that heā€™d lost his job. He said he hated to do this, but asked if I could buy him something to drink. He was homeless and was trying to get a new job to make enough money to move back to Florida with his family.

For at least 30 minutes, he told me his life story. I learned he was a fellow Christian; that heā€™d worked with a local homeless shelter; and he wandered the park because it was a better part of town. He tried to impress me by reciting Psalm 23 from memory. He admitted he wasnā€™t perfect and had made mistakes. His requests did increase as time went on. He went from a drink to a meal to a bus fare to use to job hunt.

The whole time I examined him closely for any signs of dishonesty. Ever since I went on a mission trip to New York City in 2004 and saw the many homeless begging on the streets, Iā€™ve not given handouts to such people. Our ā€œtour guideā€ said all it did was keep them homeless instead of getting them to fix their lives. Itā€™s like the old saying about giving a man a fish instead of teaching how to fish. But Michael was different. While I admit my trusting nature kicked in, my innate ā€œBS detectorā€ sensed no insincerity from him.

When it was all said and done, I (cautiously) took ten dollars from my wallet. I handed it to him and said, ā€œI believe you. I want you to have this so you can buy yourself dinner and get that bus fare. I want you to promise me thatā€™s what youā€™ll do and that youā€™ll use it to find a job.ā€

He laid the money on the bench and replied, ā€œIf you have any doubts at all, I want you to keep this.ā€

I smiled. ā€œI have none. Iā€™m considering this an investment in someone.ā€ I gave the money back to him. I added that maybe someday Iā€™d see him again and learn it was my kindness that helped get him get his life back together.

What made Michael different from the other homeless people Iā€™ve seen is twofold: 1) He genuinely wanted to work so he could improve his life, and 2) he developed a relationship with me. He wasnā€™t just a face on the street. He befriended me. I heard a bit of his story and vice versa. Friendship has a way of creating vested interest in helping someone else. But what was really important to me was that he wanted to get off the streets. Iā€™m not going to give someone momentary help for a long-term problem. Thatā€™s not what Jesus did. He cared for the plight of the poor, but He always helped them with their big problems, which in their cases were spiritual. Itā€™s something I think a lot of ā€œsocial justiceā€ Christians miss.

Anyway, Iā€™d told him I was from out of town, so he asked what I was doing. I said I was going to the swing dance at 7pm. He said heā€™d be there with the bus fare as proof of his intentions. I bid him farewell and he thanked me again.

Sadly, I didnā€™t see him at the dance, but there were hundreds of people there, so I may have missed him.

Regardless, Iā€™m reminded of Jesusā€™ parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25. Ā One day, He said He would separate the righteous from the unrighteous, telling the former that they cared for him on Earth. They asked how they did that, and Jesus replied, ā€œTruly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.ā€

My prayer is the small seed I planted with him has blossomed into a new life, one God has redeemed.

What ā€˜Pacific Rimā€™ Can Teach About Marriage

You probably read this blogā€™s title and wondered what planet I was from (FYI: it may or may not be Gallifrey). ā€œWhat can a monster movie tell us about marriage?ā€ you ask.

A surprising amount.

First, if you havenā€™t seen the film, do so! Itā€™s the most fun youā€™ll have the theatre this summer.

A poster for 'Pacific Rim.' Directed by Guillermo del Toro.
A poster for ‘Pacific Rim.’ Directed by Guillermo del Toro.

Now, the movie is set in the near future, where a dimensional rift opens at the bottom of the ocean and gigantic creatures called ā€œKaijuā€ emerge and attack cities. Humanity constructs towering robots called Jaegers to combat the beasts. These machines are too massive and complex for one pilot to drive, so they are built to be operated by two. These pilots link their minds using a neural interface, each controlling one-half of the Jaeger. Itā€™s stated that ā€œthe stronger the bond, the better you fight.ā€ These pilots must already have strong relational ties or build a rapport in order to sync up and operate their machines.

As the film progressed, I couldnā€™t help but see how similar to marriage this was (at least in the biblical/Christian sense). Two people, wholly separate, ā€œbecome oneā€ through a unique bond. Their memoriesā€”the essence of who they areā€”mingle in order to perform a great task. Only once they are bonded are they able to do this. It is a relationship unlike any other, a grand and beautiful mystery (Prov. 30:18-19). One pilot canā€™t operate the Jaeger alone, unless he is exceptionally gifted, and even then, heā€™s under deadly strain. Likewise, man was not meant to be alone (Gen. 2:18). A marriage canā€™t work without transparency or mutual submission (Eph. 5:21). As soon as one person decides to run the whole show himself, it all falls apart. Only when both the husband and wife work together can they accomplish the tasks God has set before themā€”only then can they ā€œface (and slay) the monsters that are at [their] door.ā€

But it goes further than that.

Raleigh (right) and Mako (left) piloting their Jaeger.
Raleigh (left) and Mako (right) piloting their Jaeger.

The movie focuses on Raleigh Becket, one of the Jaeger pilots. Early on, his brother/co-pilot dies fighting a Kaiju. Becket quits the Jaeger program until five years later when his CO recruits him again for a crazy plan that may save the Earth from the Kaiju. But in order to do that, Raleigh will need a new co-pilot. Enter Mako Mori, a Japanese technician who aspires to be a Jaeger pilot. Unfortunately, her inexperience coupled with her vindictive rage against the Kaiju for the death of her family hinder her potential as a pilot. She gets lost inĀ her memories as she interfaces with Raleigh, and he must pull her out of them. In battle, Raleigh leads. He gives her commands about which weapons to use and where to attack, and she defers to his leadership. This leads to a subtle romance that, in the end, saves the world.

In marriage, the husband is the head of the household (Eph. 5:23). The wife is to defer to his leadership (Eph. 5:22). Yet, at the same time, the husband and wife are partners. Raleigh didnā€™t lord anything over Mako. He was simply the more experienced of the two of them, so he helped direct her attacks during a battle, though she was quite talented. The wife is the husbandā€™s ā€œhelp meetā€ (Gen. 2:18 KJV), or ezer kenegdo in the original Hebrew, which means ā€œlifesaver.ā€ She comes along and complements the husband, helping him fulfill the calling on both their lives. This is what Mako does for Raleigh. He was already a great pilot, but he needed a partner in order to operate his Jaeger and fight the Kaiju. Without her, he couldnā€™t do that.

I bet you didnā€™t expect a big-budget homage film to the low-budget B-grade monster flicks of yesteryear to be a poignant illustration of marriage.

Never underestimate the power of story, True Believers!

All I can say now is I look forward to finding an amazing woman to fight monsters with.

Mel Gibson I’m Not

In my spare time, I volunteer for a Christian internet-based radio station called Remedy Live that ministers to youth. They have a chat room that teens can access through their phones or computers to talk about anything. Iā€™ve been working with them for several years. Iā€™ve helped students deal with relationship issues and cutting, among others. Some of them just want to chat about silly things. Some weeks when I volunteer, no one jumps online. Iā€™m just happy I was there in case anyone did.

Tuesday, though, was a first for me. I had to prevent a suicide.

I logged on around 5pm, and after only a few minutes, someone chimed in saying he wanted to kill himself. Not only that, he said he had a gun next to him and he was ready to pull the trigger.

I immediately contacted the radio station via Facebook and phone and told them what was going on. As the chat progressed, they observed and sent me coaching messages.

At first, I thought this chatter was a girl, but then he started talking about an ex-girlfriend who cheated on him with his best friend, so I thought he was a guy. By the end, though, I wasnā€™t sure. Regardless, I learned that he was 17 and his familyā€”especially his stepfatherā€”was verbally and emotionally abusive. He thought everyone except his grandparents hated him.

By this point, the radio station was tracking his phone number and attempting to call the local police, so I did my best to keep him talking. This kid was smart, though, and suspected something like this might be happening, but I was able to persuade him I wasnā€™t doing that.

Iā€™ve known people who had martyr complexes, but this kid took it a step further. He honestly believed that by killing himself he was being like Jesus. He thought everyone would be happier if he was dead, so by dying, he was doing them a favor just as Jesus ā€œdied for the people.ā€ I told him Jesus didnā€™t kill himself, he was executed, and that what he was doing was selfish.

I used several other arguments against suicide. One was that only God had the right to decide when someone died. This chatter then seemed to start power tripping. He said he was the one who holding the gun, not God. I said God could keep the gun from firing. The chatter then said he was putting the gun to his head as we spoke. He wrote something about how the tables had turned and how he held all the power. I managed to calm him down.

In the end, after an hour-long chat (which included two disconnects), he asked to speak with a female volunteer, so I passed him to a fellow volunteer.

I donā€™t know what happened afterward.

I was kinda like Mel Gibson, except without the mullet. Mullet were stupid.
I was kinda like Mel Gibson, except without the mullet. Mullets were stupid.

Remember the famous scene in the first Lethal Weapon film where Mel Gibson handcuffs himself to man threatening to jump off a building? He does this after distracting the guy with cigarettes. Then after getting irritated with him, he jumps, taking the suicidal man with him, and they land on a huge air mattress. While I didnā€™t have to do something that crazy, I can tell you trying to keep someone from killing himself isnā€™t nearly that easy (or fun). It was nerve-wracking. I held a personā€™s life in my hand, in a way. I was concerned that one wrong word would push him to pull the trigger. What was worse was it seemed like this kid had a retort for every argument I typed. He refused to be encouraged. It made me wonder why he even bothered starting a chat in the first place. If he was so determined to commit suicide, why drag random strangers from the internet into it? Either he wanted to be talked out of it or he wanted attention. (I could be wrong on those. Feel free to tell me and elaborate on other explanations).

As I said: Mel Gibson Iā€™m not.

Itā€™s made me think about my own life. I havenā€™t had the best of times for several years, yet Iā€™ve never seriously considered suicide. Sometimes I wonder why. Regardless, I do know I can be just as stubborn about being encouraged. When Iā€™m at my lowest, I refuse to hear anything good. Yet I donā€™t want people to agree with me in my misery. Thereā€™s this part of me that wants to argue. Itā€™s the weirdest thing. No wonder I sometimes drive people crazy.

Iā€™d like to think I helped save the kidā€™s life. That he went on and did great things.

I may never know.

30 Lessons Iā€™ve Learned by Age 30

Yeah, it’s slightly insulting, but it’s still nerdy and funny.

Today is my 30th birthday. (You my now sing. Thank you.) So, in celebration, I thought I would entertain and enlighten you with 30 important lessons I’ve learned in the first three decades of my life. Enjoy! Live long and prosper.

1. Itā€™s okay to ask God questions, even about faithā€™s ā€œfundamentals.ā€

2. Never date your stalker.

3. Make sure you gather a raccoonā€™s stash of berries before it eats them.

4. Always take a girl to either a horror movie or a tearjerker on a date: sheā€™ll either cling to you the whole time or cry on your shoulder. šŸ˜‰

5. Tenacity pays off when youā€™re a writer.

6. Love is more important than money.

7. People are more important than things.

8. Know what you want and go for it.

9. Donā€™t hesitate to seek justice.

10. Always be honest with God and people.

11. Donā€™t be afraid to terminate a friendship if it becomes unproductive.

12. Jell-O is evilā€”it causes blindness.

13. Despair is easy; joy is a challenge.

14. Women are the greatest enigma God ever created, and men will spend a lifetime trying to solve that mystery.

15. Youā€™re never too old to enjoy cartoons.

16. Know when to shut upā€¦

17. ā€¦and when to speak your mind.

18. Romance often comes at unexpected times and places.

19. Take pride in your hard work, even if it goes unrewarded.

20. Even Jesus Christ, Who was perfect, made enemies, so donā€™t be surprised if you make any.

21. Learn to laugh at yourself (but not too much).

22. ā€œNormalā€ is a relative term.

23. Wisdom often comes in unexpected packagesā€”like little sisters.

24. Be yourself. If some people donā€™t like you, thatā€™s their problem.

25. Never lose your sense of wonder.

26. Assume the best about a person unless given reason not to.

27. Answers arenā€™t always easy.

28. The only unforgiveable sin is unbelief.

29. Never be afraid to try new things and be adventurous.

And finallyā€¦

30. The Doctor lies.

How I Met Silver Sable

I’ve been meaning to write about this for a week, but I’ve been kinda busy. If you’re friends with me on Facebook, though, you already know about this.

After six weeks of searching, I’ve finally bought a new car.

True Believers, meet Silver Sable!

DSCN5416

Yes, I bought another Ford Escort ZX2. However, this one is pretty much my last car, only better. It’s the 2002 model with a sunroof, six-CD changer, and lots of after-market accessories. Since my last Escort was named after a lesser-known Marvel Comic superheroine (Elektra), I decided this one should be, too. Here’s a picture of my car’s namesake:

SilverSable442

It’s an ironic story how I found her. First, I have to say my primary tool for finding a car was www.Craigslist.org. While it usually yielded the most prospects out of other websites, it also had the most scams. Finding a car on Craigslist in like online dating: you fall in love with what you see in the photo, but the real thing may not be as pretty. I looked at and test drove many cars in my price range. My top three traits were reliability, durability, and good gas mileage. So, I spent most of my time looking at Toyotas, Hondas, Nissans (sometimes), and Escorts. I went to dealerships and private sellers. I even traveled two hoursĀ to Hobart, Indiana, (which is perilously close to scary Gary) to look at a car.

My favorite “lemon” was this 1995 Honda Accord with 94,000 miles being sold in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I arrived at a small apartment. While I was looking at the car (which was definitely rough around the edges), a young woman wearing Arabic garb peeked out the door of the complex and then slipped back in. A young guy came out. I guess she was his girlfriend? Anyway, he spent the better part of ten minutes talking to me like a used car salesman. He claimed a Mexican friend of his could mix all the cosmetic problems for $800. I thought, Nice try, kid. I did test drive the car. It handled well and was quite fun to drive. But I discovered the deal breaker–the odometer didn’t work. As far as I knew, it had 194,000 miles on it. I told him this, and he claimed it went out on the previous owner, who then guessed how many miles to put on the title. I shook his hand, thanked him, and left.

Anyway, back to how I found Sable…

When I searched Craigslist, I only searched for ads with photos. My Dad, however, searched for everything. The original ad with Sable had no pictures or a phone number; only an e-mail address. But the price and miles (94,000) were right. Dad e-mailed him, giving the seller my number. He called me a few days later, saying his name was Brandon. He told me about the car and informed me that he’d added pictures to the ad. I looked at it and fell in love with the car. It was gorgeous. I told him Dad and I would come look at it the next day after church. It was a short trip to Elkhart.

We arrived and test drove the car with Brandon with us, who kept bragging about how good the car was. He was only the second owner. He’d driven it for 25,000 miles. The car, so far as he knew, came from Chicago. When he owned it, he did all the routine maintenance early and only he and his father–a Ford certified mechanic–worked on it. He offered to have his father replace the timing belt or fix the paint scuffs at no extra cost. We talked him down a little in price. Then he gave me a cell phone car charger and cassette adaptor for no extra cost and gave me $40 to fill my tank.

Best car buying experience I’ve ever had.

An Open Letter to My Future Wife

Dear Beloved,

Itā€™s been a while, hasnā€™t it? My apologies. Iā€™ve had a tumultuous time wrestling with doubts about whether or not Iā€™ll ever find you. Or rather, if God will ever lead us to each other. You know I go through times like that. Some are short, some not-so-short. But when I throw off the dead weight, I realize longing for you is part of how God wired me. To bury that would be to deny part of who I am. I must believe Iā€™m not meant to be alone.

This letter is different. It is being shared on the Internet for friends and family to read. However, it will be the first and only time I do such a thing. Lovers are entitled to their secrets. Some people may read this and call me desperate, naĆÆve, unmanly, or something worse. They may lecture me on ā€œtrusting God for a spouseā€ or ā€œnot lookingā€ or a myriad of other things (Iā€™ve heard them all). Let them. They can judge me, label me, and/or condemn me. I know where I stand with you, and I know where I stand with God. Their opinions canā€™t and wonā€™t change that.

The mystery of who you may be both excites and pains me. Maybe Iā€™ve not met you yet. Maybe youā€™re reading this letter right now on one of the sites Iā€™ve posted it. Maybe weā€™re friends right now but love has yet to blossom. In which case, how did we meet? How will that love form? I hope and pray itā€™s a great story. While I still mock bad (or sappy) romance stories in fiction, I love it when theyā€™re done well. Iā€™m not foolish enough to think our story will be a romantic comedy or a fairy tale (though if it even remotely resembles ā€œThe Princess Brideā€, Iā€™ll be happy), I still want a love story that weā€™ll enjoy recounting to our kids and grandkids until weā€™re old and gray. A story that will amuse and encourage everyone who hears it. In other words, a story crafted by the Author of romance Himself. I hope that is your prayer, too.

Life should be an adventure. Iā€™m working hard to add more adventure to my own. Not just a fun adventure, but an adventure with danger and high stakes; where Iā€™m doing great things for Godā€™s glory. Thatā€™s the sort of life I want to invite to join me on. When God said man shouldnā€™t be alone and made a ā€œhelp-mateā€ (or in Hebrew, ā€œezer kenegdo,ā€ which means ā€œlifesaverā€) for him, it was to join the man on the great work He had commissioned him to do. So, I hope youā€™re adventurous. Like Indiana Jones, I tend to get in over my head sometimes. Iā€™ll need a partner who can help me get through it. I promise itā€™ll be exciting.

While I can promise an exciting marriage, but I canā€™t promise a wealthy one. We live in uncertain financial times and I studied to work in a field that doesnā€™t guarantee oodles of money. Iā€™ve been hurt by a woman who found more security in a manā€™s money than in his love. Itā€™s often left me wondering if I was too poor to marry. But I know God values wisdom above wealth, so I trust you do, too. A man who is rich but unwise is a terrible husband. ā€œBetter a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoilā€ (Prov. 15:16). No matter what financial difficulties assail us, I know weā€™ll get through them together.

Though you may not know it, Iā€™ve failed you. Iā€™ve failed you in word, deed, and thought. And I know Iā€™ll do the same when weā€™re together, though I wonā€™t want to. This agonizes me. You deserve nothing less than a man whoā€™s perfect. Then I tell myself, ā€œNo. She deserves a man whoā€™s perfect for her.ā€ I want to be this man for you. But when I am less than perfect, I pray you will forgive me. Loving you as Christ loves the church is a high ideal that I will spend the rest of my life trying to attain, and I will misstep along the way. May you love me regardless of my mistakes.

So, Beloved, whether weā€™ve met yet or not, pray for me as I pray for you. Donā€™t be afraid to voice your loneliness or your longing for me. Let the haters hate. Find friends and family who will encourage you to be even more of the woman of God I know you are as you wait. May God grant you patience now (youā€™ll need it to handle me). šŸ˜‰

May we soon come together to serve God more than we ever could have apart.

Your (Future) Husband,
Nate