Category Archives: Blog

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For the Least of These

I re-learned last week that if there’s one thing that annoys me about big cities, it’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 I’d be late that we’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 I’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, “My name is Michael. What’s Yours?”

“Nate.”

“May I sit down?”

“Sure.”

He sat next to me and told me he was from Florida and that he’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 he’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 wasn’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, I’ve not given handouts to such people. Our “tour guide” said all it did was keep them homeless instead of getting them to fix their lives. It’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 “BS detector” 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, “I 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 that’s what you’ll do and that you’ll use it to find a job.”

He laid the money on the bench and replied, “If you have any doubts at all, I want you to keep this.”

I smiled. “I have none. I’m considering this an investment in someone.” I gave the money back to him. I added that maybe someday I’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 I’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 wasn’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. I’m not going to give someone momentary help for a long-term problem. That’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. It’s something I think a lot of “social justice” Christians miss.

Anyway, I’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 he’d be there with the bus fare as proof of his intentions. I bid him farewell and he thanked me again.

Sadly, I didn’t see him at the dance, but there were hundreds of people there, so I may have missed him.

Regardless, I’m reminded of Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25.  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, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

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

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What ‘Pacific Rim’ Can Teach About Marriage

You probably read this blog’s title and wondered what planet I was from (FYI: it may or may not be Gallifrey). “What can a monster movie tell us about marriage?” you ask.

A surprising amount.

First, if you haven’t seen the film, do so! It’s the most fun you’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 “Kaiju” 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. It’s stated that “the stronger the bond, the better you fight.” 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 couldn’t help but see how similar to marriage this was (at least in the biblical/Christian sense). Two people, wholly separate, “become one” through a unique bond. Their memories—the essence of who they are—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 can’t operate the Jaeger alone, unless he is exceptionally gifted, and even then, he’s under deadly strain. Likewise, man was not meant to be alone (Gen. 2:18). A marriage can’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 them—only then can they “face (and slay) the monsters that are at [their] door.”

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 in 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 didn’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 husband’s “help meet” (Gen. 2:18 KJV), or ezer kenegdo in the original Hebrew, which means “lifesaver.” 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 couldn’t do that.

I bet you didn’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.

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Mel Gibson I’m Not

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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. I’ve been working with them for several years. I’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. I’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 wasn’t sure. Regardless, I learned that he was 17 and his family—especially his stepfather—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 wasn’t doing that.

I’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 “died for the people.” I told him Jesus didn’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 don’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 didn’t have to do something that crazy, I can tell you trying to keep someone from killing himself isn’t nearly that easy (or fun). It was nerve-wracking. I held a person’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 I’m not.

It’s made me think about my own life. I haven’t had the best of times for several years, yet I’ve never seriously considered suicide. Sometimes I wonder why. Regardless, I do know I can be just as stubborn about being encouraged. When I’m at my lowest, I refuse to hear anything good. Yet I don’t want people to agree with me in my misery. There’s this part of me that wants to argue. It’s the weirdest thing. No wonder I sometimes drive people crazy.

I’d like to think I helped save the kid’s life. That he went on and did great things.

I may never know.

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30 Lessons I’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. It’s okay to ask God questions, even about faith’s “fundamentals.”

2. Never date your stalker.

3. Make sure you gather a raccoon’s stash of berries before it eats them.

4. Always take a girl to either a horror movie or a tearjerker on a date: she’ll either cling to you the whole time or cry on your shoulder. 😉

5. Tenacity pays off when you’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. Don’t hesitate to seek justice.

10. Always be honest with God and people.

11. Don’t be afraid to terminate a friendship if it becomes unproductive.

12. Jell-O is evil—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. You’re never too old to enjoy cartoons.

16. Know when to shut up…

17. …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 don’t be surprised if you make any.

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

22. “Normal” is a relative term.

23. Wisdom often comes in unexpected packages—like little sisters.

24. Be yourself. If some people don’t like you, that’s their problem.

25. Never lose your sense of wonder.

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

27. Answers aren’t always easy.

28. The only unforgiveable sin is unbelief.

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

And finally…

30. The Doctor lies.

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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 hours 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.

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An Open Letter to My Future Wife

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Dear Beloved,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? My apologies. I’ve had a tumultuous time wrestling with doubts about whether or not I’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 I’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, naïve, unmanly, or something worse. They may lecture me on “trusting God for a spouse” or “not looking” or a myriad of other things (I’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 can’t and won’t change that.

The mystery of who you may be both excites and pains me. Maybe I’ve not met you yet. Maybe you’re reading this letter right now on one of the sites I’ve posted it. Maybe we’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 it’s a great story. While I still mock bad (or sappy) romance stories in fiction, I love it when they’re done well. I’m not foolish enough to think our story will be a romantic comedy or a fairy tale (though if it even remotely resembles “The Princess Bride”, I’ll be happy), I still want a love story that we’ll enjoy recounting to our kids and grandkids until we’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. I’m working hard to add more adventure to my own. Not just a fun adventure, but an adventure with danger and high stakes; where I’m doing great things for God’s glory. That’s the sort of life I want to invite to join me on. When God said man shouldn’t be alone and made a “help-mate” (or in Hebrew, “ezer kenegdo,” which means “lifesaver”) for him, it was to join the man on the great work He had commissioned him to do. So, I hope you’re adventurous. Like Indiana Jones, I tend to get in over my head sometimes. I’ll need a partner who can help me get through it. I promise it’ll be exciting.

While I can promise an exciting marriage, but I can’t promise a wealthy one. We live in uncertain financial times and I studied to work in a field that doesn’t guarantee oodles of money. I’ve been hurt by a woman who found more security in a man’s money than in his love. It’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. “Better a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoil” (Prov. 15:16). No matter what financial difficulties assail us, I know we’ll get through them together.

Though you may not know it, I’ve failed you. I’ve failed you in word, deed, and thought. And I know I’ll do the same when we’re together, though I won’t want to. This agonizes me. You deserve nothing less than a man who’s perfect. Then I tell myself, “No. She deserves a man who’s perfect for her.” 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 we’ve met yet or not, pray for me as I pray for you. Don’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 (you’ll need it to handle me). 😉

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

Your (Future) Husband,
Nate

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Memorial Day Tribute

I come from a military family. I wanted to write something today in tribute not only to my own family members who have served in the armed forces, but to all the men and women who put on a uniform everyday to defend their nation. With all the busyness that has been accosting me, I barely had time to write this. I wanted to include photos. Even if I did, it still wouldn’t seem like enough. So, I will do the best I can with the time I have.

My grandfathers both fought in WWII. Don Marchand was a motorcycle messenger for the Army in the European theatre. He ran over a landmine and survived. While he wasn’t physically disabled, per se, he lived with that injury for the rest of his life. Max Sitton served in the Navy and later the Air Force. He was a practical joker and loved pranking his comrades. It was him who inspired my mother, Tina (Sitton) Marchand, to enlist in the Air National Guard. It was there she met my father, Joseph Marchand, who was an MP (military police). Mom retired from the Air Guard shortly after my first brother, Josiah, was born, but Dad stayed in for ten more years. He made several tours overseas in Europe, and his unit was nearly activated to serve in the first Gulf War. He retired in the mid-’90s after achieving the rank of senior master sergeant.

In all honesty, I’ve considered enlisting several times over the years because of the stories I’ve heard from my parents. Despite that, I’ve always had an interest in the military. That’s probably why my first novel, Pandora’s Box, is military science fiction. (Hey, I had to sneak a little shameless self-promotion in here, hehe).

These are just a few stories. I had other relatives who served in WWII. They all deserve a tribute. So do all the soldiers who’ve served out great nation. You’ve heard all the clichés (“Freedom isn’t free,” etc.), but they still express a good sentiment. Like all holidays, they are reminders of what she should do all year long. Whenever you see a soldier, tell him, “Thank you.” Even if you disagree with the wars we’re involved in, these men and women fought, bled, and even died so you could have the freedom to disagree. You still owe them for gratitude.

I find myself wanting to express that gratitude even more. I hope I–and all of us–remember to do that everyday.

So today when you’re enjoying barbecues and a day off work, remember the soldiers who didn’t get a day off to spend with their families so you could be free.

Happy Memorial Day.

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Elektra is Dead (or ‘I was in a Car Accident’)

I said I would explain later, and that time has come.

A huge monkey wrench was thrown into my plans because I was in a car accident Tuesday. Nobody was hurt (not badly. I was sore for a few days), but my car is in bad shape. The incident actually inspired my poem for NaPoWriMo day 23 because I named my car Elektra after the Marvel Comics character, but I digress.

I went to visit my Grandma at the nursing home she was recently moved to in Fort Wayne, Indiana. After spending a few hours with her, I left to get ballroom dance lessons from a friend and hang out for a bit afterward. I came to a stoplight on a busy street. Traffic was thick since it was 4:30pm and people were heading home from work. The light turned green and I moved forward. Just past the light, the quasi-SUV in front of me stopped, so I did, too.

There was a crash.

I suddenly found myself sandwiched between two cars. Someone had rear-ended me.

Both of the other drivers were soccer moms driving larger, sturdier vehicles than me (Elektra is a 1998 Ford Escort). The one in front of me said she stopped because of traffic. I couldn’t see past her, so I can neither confirm nor disprove that. The woman behind me said she thought her two-year-old son in the backseat was choking on something, so she looked back to check on him and didn’t realize I’d stopped.

Both of them had fairly minor cosmetic damage to their vehicles, but since I was scrunched between them, I took the brunt. The hood was arched about a foot, the headlights were shattered, and there was a huge dent on the front. The rear bumper was bent at a slight angle. I shut the car off immediately, but after 20-30 minutes of calling and texting, I tried to start it again and it wouldn’t turn over. The damage doesn’t look too bad, but since it’s 15 years old and has 225,000 miles on it, insurance will probably declare it totaled.

Anyway, the two women eventually left but I had to wait for a friend to pick me up and for a tow truck to take my car away. I did hang out with some friends to celebrate a birthday at a Mexican restaurant that night, though.

As usual with me, the gravity of my situation didn’t hit me until later. I’ve been quite frustrated since Tuesday. I get constant calls from the insurance companies involved in the accident (including one where they were running scared to set up a free chiropractor appointment for me even though I wasn’t hurt. They must be afraid I’ll sue). My plans have been forced to change. I’ve had to start looking for a new car. It hasn’t been fun.

What’s ironic was I had been telling people how grateful I was that my car had lasted this long. I’ve had it since 2006. I’ve driven it longer than the 1990 Dodge Daytona I had before that. It probably could’ve gone another 50,000 miles. It was like how God made the Israelites’ sandals not wear out while they were in the wilderness (Deuteronomy 29:5). Now I suddenly find myself in need of a new car.

If you’re the praying type, prayers would be appreciated. Thanks, True Believers!

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A Conspiracy of Technology

Wondering where episode 9 of “But I Digress…” is? It is finished. It was supposed to be posted yesterday. Truth be told, I did post it on YouTube, but only for five minutes. Why? There was no sound! So, I took it down.

I haven’t had the time to see if the video file was corrupted when it was encoded or if it’s YouTube’s fault (and by extension Paramount Studios since I used some Star Trek music in it. Some music producers are stringent with YouTube about people posting their music in videos).

That coupled with the horrid luck I’ve been having with getting a working laptop (long story), and I’m starting to wonder if technology is conspiring against me. Maybe Skynet (or whoever the future robot overlords are) knows I’m onto them! (Haha)

Regardless, I’ll do what I can to remedy these situations, God willing.

UPDATE (2-18-13): The video file still has sound. It was YouTube’s fault. I’ll upload it this weekend. Sorry I’ll be skipping a posting date. Think of it as a one-time hiatus. TV shows do it all the time.

Also, my new laptop seems to be behaving now (“seems” being the key word).