I decided to move to a new web hosting company after my old one kept going down. Every day. Multiple times a day. Now granted, I don’t get a lot of traffic here, and most likely no one but me noticed the outages, but it really ticked me off. I mean, if I’m gonna pay for a service, I kinda expect it to work. That’s not too much to ask is it?

So everything’s been moved over, and as far as I can tell, it seems to be working fine. There may be a few kinks that still need to be ironed out, but I think we’re good for the most part. The new host seems to be a lot faster, too, which is nice.

It’s hard to believe I’ve had this blog for almost four years. And actually, I’ve had the domain since 1998. The first iteration of tindog.com was a really bad personal home page built with FrontPage 98. How bad was it? Well, the fact that it was built with FrontPage should give you a clue. And I think I used Comic Sans for the font. And there might’ve been a picture of Mao Tse-Tung on it (for some unknown reason).

The next version of the site came around 2000 and was a sort of catch-all not-quite-a-blog website built with Dreamweaver 3.0. A definite improvement but still horrendous. The idea was to have different sections for news, music and movie reviews, miscellaneous downloads, and a blog-type page called the Coffee Bar. (Which is where the “coffeehouse” idea for this version came from, by the way.)

That site lasted for about a year before I shut it down and moved on. I had another blog on Blogger for a while in 2005-2006, but it got to be primarily political and I burned out on it. Ready to start over, I started this one on WordPress.com in December 2007 and then moved it to a self-hosted version in July 2009.

It’s weird going back through four years of posts. I’ve never really had anything specific that I wanted to focus on here, choosing to write about basically whatever was on my mind. Often that veered back into politics, but I’m pretty much over that now. Lately, I’ve tended to write more about my faith, and it’s those posts I think I’m most proud of. Not because they were well written but because they usually end up being more personal and genuine.

So what’s next? I don’t know. More of the same most likely. Whether that’s a good thing or not is up for debate, I guess. But honestly, I’ve enjoyed writing here even when no one else reads it. So as long as the server stays up, that’s what I’ll keep doing.

Previously:
Quitter
One thing
Who are you following?

I spent this past weekend stuck in a hotel room in suburban Milwaukee. Exciting, right? I know, you’re jealous. But trust me, it wasn’t as interesting as it sounds. For one, it was raining and snowing (yes, snowing!) the whole time I was there. Second, it was Milwaukee. Unless you just have an unnatural fondness for Miller Lite or Laverne and Shirley, there’s really no reason to ever go there. I did, however, discover cheese curds, which I’m told are amazing, but to me they just tasted like, well, cheese. Which we have in Texas. Except we call it queso and dip our tortilla chips in it.

Anyway, I had gone up there to move one of our offices, which had to be done over a weekend. I finished up by mid-afternoon on Saturday, but my flight home didn’t leave till Sunday afternoon. So what do you do for 24 hours in suburban Milwaukee while it’s raining and snowing? You sit around in your hotel room trying to figure out how in the world you took such a wrong turn in life. That, and watch movies.

One of the movies I watched was “City Slickers”. Now, I’ve seen that movie probably a few dozen times over the years, but for some reason, I learned a few new things this time. For example, if you’re ever on a cattle drive, don’t bring along a coffee grinder; it immediately causes a stampede. Also, rum raisin is the perfect ice cream to follow a meal of sea bass and potatoes au gratin. And those enormous glasses you thought were so cool in 1991 look ridiculous in 2011.

But I also learned the secret of life. Really. According to Jack Palance’s Curly,  it’s one thing. “You stick to that,” Curly says, “and the rest don’t mean shit.”  But what is the “one thing”, asks Mitch. “That’s what you have to find out.”

Um, right.

I’m pretty sure when the writers got to this scene, the conversation went something like this:

Writer 1: The secret of life is… uh… uh…
Writer 2: Happiness.
Writer 1: No.
Writer 2: Financial security.
Writer 1: No.
Writer 2: The brunch buffet at the Bellagio.
Writer 1: What?! No. It’s… uh… it’s one thing.
Writer 2: What? What is it?
Writer 1: … … That’s what you have to find out.
Writer 2: That’s… Brilliant!

And then they went out for rum raisin ice cream.

But here’s the deal. That philosophy, that idea that the secret of life is some random concept that everyone has to figure out for himself, isn’t just some corny movie line, it’s what a lot of people tend to believe. It’s this politically correct notion of coexistence and tolerance, a refusal to acknowledge any absolutes or truths. You can be Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, atheist, gay, straight, whatever. Whatever you wanna be. Whatever your “one thing” is. Just don’t try to push your one thing on me.

Even though that’s a load of crap.

The one thing, the only one thing, is Jesus. He said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).

That’s it. That’s all you need to know.

That truth has hit me especially hard this week. If you haven’t noticed (which you haven’t since you don’t actually read this blog), I haven’t been especially active on the blog lately. That’s due to a number of factors but mostly just because I’ve been busy with other stuff. And I’m not gonna apologize about that. Although I want people to read what I write (who doesn’t?), I don’t live and die by Google Analytics. If people read it, then that’s great. If they don’t, I don’t really care. Because honestly, I’m not writing this for them.

Christian band The Classic Crime puts it this way in “A Perfect Voice”:

I may not sing your favorite songs, but I don’t sing for you
‘Cause if I did, I would have been gone long ago

I’ve run across a lot of well-meaning Christians on Twitter that I’ve ultimately unfollowed because they only seem to care about promoting their blogs or their books. They tweet their latest blog post several times a day and retweet every compliment they get so everyone knows just how awesome they are. And these are Christians. Who should know better. Who should be putting Jesus ahead of their own shameless self-promotion.

Not that I don’t promote myself. I do, of course. I mean, I’ve got social media links beneath every post and my Twitter and Flickr streams in the right-hand column. It would be hypocritical of me to condemn by brothers and sisters for doing the same thing I do. Although I’ve never really been comfortable promoting my blog on Twitter and do so very rarely.

But I’m the first to admit that I often lose sight of that “one thing”, the only thing that truly matters. I’m the first to admit just how selfish and shallow and egotistical I can be and how wrong that is.

What better time to realize that than on Good Friday, the day in which the Son of God — in which God Himself — willingly gave up His life in place of mine. Who knew how stupid and lazy and self-centered I really am but who loved me anyway and literally put Himself through Hell so that I wouldn’t have to. Because of God’s sacrifice 2,000 years ago, I’m free today. Political correctness can’t save me. Judaism, Islam, and atheism can’t save me. Nothing else can save me. But God’s grace can.

And that’s the only thing that’s truly important. That one thing. That one single amazing truth. And that should be why I do everything I do.

Because the rest don’t mean shit.

Previously:
Look for the search lights
Jesus as the fulfillment of prophecy
The ransom has been paid
Who are you following?

Anyway, I didn’t really have anything in particular to blog about, so I thought I’d throw a bunch of random things into one big post and let you pick out the stuff you’re mildly interested in.

First off, college football. I normally post a lot of college football stuff every year, but I haven’t written anything all season (which is now almost over). So what did I miss? A horrendous year for the Texas Longhorns but another undefeated season for the TCU Horned Frogs for starters. The Horns will bounce back, but not easily. They’ll (hopefully) fire a few coaches (Greg Davis, please?) and be a lot stronger next year. Of course, so will most of the other Big 12 South schools. Tech will be better, OSU and A&M are getting stronger, and OU is always a threat. The days of Mack Brown just showing up and being handed an automatic victory are over, at least for the foreseeable future. They won’t have another crappy season next year, but they won’t be undefeated either. I would say 9-3 is probably realistic. Not that that will appease the powers that be, but whatever. Parity in college football is long overdue.

As for TCU, the big news as of this morning is that the Frogs are jumping over to the Big East as of 2012. I’m not really fond of their decision. Yes, it puts them in a (weak) BCS AQ conference and gives them more national exposure, but that doesn’t make it the right thing to do. It seems like a short-term solution to a long-term problem. A stronger Mountain West conference, bolstered by Boise State, would likely be in contention for an AQ bid within a couple of years, but now TCU will be stuck a conference that sucks in football but dominates in basketball. Of course, the MWC — even with AQ certification — still wouldn’t have the big TV contracts that the Big East does. So perhaps the choice is really between Versus and ESPN. And really, there’s no contest there.

A big plus for TCU bailing on the Mountain West, though: We won’t have to see the Frogs play at Boise State. The Broncos come to Fort Worth in 2011, and then the Frogs will be in the Big East the next year. I’m sorry, but I just can’t watch Boise State games; that horrendous blue turf makes my eyes bleed.

I’m not about to complain if TCU doesn’t make it to the National Championship this year. Playing in the Rose Bowl against a very good Wisconsin team is not a bad consolation prize at all.

This past Sunday was my first week back in the Children’s ministry at church. I had sat out my last six-week rotation due to my leg injury. It was really good to be back. I genuinely love serving there, and I had missed being a part of it. Not sure yet what this rotation will be like. Last year we did a very big and involved Christmas pageant, but thankfully I don’t think we’re doing that again.

Speaking of my leg, it’s doing a lot better. The fracture is healed, and I’m gradually gaining my strength and stability back. Now I just have to pay off the rest of my medical bills.

I mentioned back in August that I had volunteered to coach my daughter’s soccer team. We wrapped up the season at the end of October with a record of 2-5-1. I learned a ton along the way, and I think I’d be much better the next time around. What surprised me most was how emotionally invested I got, and that wasn’t always a good thing. I let my frustration with the players and parents get to me too much, and I had to learn to let it go and just have fun. I think that’s where experience helps.

Also in October, I started a year-long commitment with the rest of my church to read through the Bible in a year. I’m happy to report that I’ve kept up. So far, I’ve read Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers in the Old Testament and John, Romans, Hebrews, and Acts in the New Testament. It’s been very interesting. One of the cool things is how the Old and New Testaments parallel each other. You have the story of Creation in Genesis and then another “In the beginning” in John. The introduction of the Mosaic Law in Exodus and then a contrast between the Law and grace in Romans. A detailed list of sacrifices in Leviticus, and Jesus as the ultimate sacrifice in Hebrews. The beginning of Israel’s disobedience in Numbers, and the beginning of the apostles’ obedience in Acts.

As interesting as it is, though, my faith has definitely been challenged. The more I read, the more questions I have. And the more questions I ask, the more questions that branch off from there. I can definitely understand why someone would read the Bible and walk away an atheist; much of it makes no sense whatsoever by modern standards. I guess that’s where faith comes in. I don’t have to understand everything or have all the answers in order to accept it. And that’s actually a pretty liberating realization.

My wife has asked several times what I want for Christmas. I can think of a lot of stuff that we can’t afford but not a lot of things that we can. When I was growing up, I always had a Christmas list that was ten pages long; nowadays I have a hard time coming up with ten things total. I guess that means I’m getting old.

By the way, get off my lawn!

While I’m on the subject of Christmas, can someone please explain why we as Christians put more emphasis on Christmas than on Easter? We have this huge month-long celebration for the birth of Christ, but His death and resurrection are a much bigger deal if you ask me. So I vote for moving all the pomp and circumstance of Christmas to Easter. Who’s with me?

Previously:
Thoughts on Genesis
I signed up for WHAT?!
August, you suck too
Wait, that was it?!

So who should we denounce for this scandalous practice? According to the New York Times, it’s all Silicon Valley’s fault:

So it is widely believed that the recent ascendancy of “so” began in Silicon Valley. The journalist Michael Lewis picked it up when researching his 1999 book “The New New Thing”: “When a computer programmer answers a question,” he wrote, “he often begins with the word ‘so.’ ” Microsoft employees have long argued that the “so” boom began with them.

In the software world, it was a tic that made sense. In immigrant-filled technology firms, it democratized talk by replacing a world of possible transitions with a catchall. And “so” suggested a kind of thinking that appealed to problem-solving software types: conversation as a logical, unidirectional process — if this, then that.

This logical tinge to “so” has followed it out of software. Compared to “well” and “um,” starting a sentence with “so” uses the whiff of logic to relay authority. Whereas “well” vacillates, “so” declaims.

So even though I’m violating at least ten grammatical laws by beginning my sentences with “so”, I can rightfully blame my technical background for the habitual mistake. That may not appease my 12th-grade English teacher, but at least I know I’m in good company.

So there.

I’m a failure.

At least according to the world. I’m not rich, I’m not famous. Heck, I’m not even “Internet famous”. And I probably won’t ever be. I don’t have thousands of Twitter followers or Facebook friends, and chances are, no one is even reading this blog post. I have a steady but mostly unfulfilling job that consumes the best hours, days, and years of my life but nothing that even closely resembles a social life outside of that.

Donald Miller talks in A Million Miles in a Thousand Years about viewing life in terms of telling a story, with a narrative arc that includes overcoming obstacles in order to get what you (the protagonist) want. He writes on his blog:

A story involves a person that wants something and is willing to overcome conflict to get it. If you plan a story this year, instead of just simple goals, your life will be more exciting, more meaningful and more memorable. And you are much more likely to stick to your goals. For instance, rather than saying I want to finish getting into shape this year, I’ve written down that I want to climb Mt. Hood with a couple friends. I have a vision of standing on top of the mountain in May, taking pictures and all that. Now my goal has a narrative context. That’s just a simple story, and I’ve planned some stories that are far more difficult but I only use that as an example. If my goal were to lose twenty pounds, I doubt I’d stick with it. But when you have friends flying up from Texas to summit the mountain with you, you’d better believe you are going to be hitting the stairs. I have to, because it I don’t, my story will be a tragedy. Again, stories give goals context.

That’s great advice. But it depresses the hell out of me.

(We’re still being honest, right?)

Why is it depressing? Because it’s a lot harder to say than to do. Because I feel helpless and worthless and trapped and alone. And that sucks.

I know I’m not supposed to admit that. I’m supposed to “engage my audience”, “cultivate my online community”, “build my personal brand”. I’m supposed to read more and blog more and network more and do all the stuff that will drive traffic and generate bigger numbers. Because I’m told by the people on the Internet that that will make me a better person.

Instead, after taking a 3-month break from Facebook, I quietly reactivated my profile and promptly unfriended half my friends. And I actually made a conscious decision to blog less, not more.

It’s not that I don’t want friends; I do, absolutely. Everyone wants to be liked and appreciated and respected and lauded for their achievements. But as much as I like love it when people take the time to read my posts and even take the time to leave a comment, this blog was never meant to attract an audience; it was meant for me, as an outlet. If others stumble on it or want to follow along, that’s great.

So by any quantifiable measuring stick, I’m a failure. I’d like to say I have all these grand goals ahead of me for the year, but I’m not making any promises. I will, however, continue to try to be the best husband, father, and Christian I can, even if that doesn’t really mean anything to most people in this day and age.

And, well, there you go. If you’re still reading, I’m sorry if I’ve totally bummed you out. But I think it needed to be said.

Previously:
A little social network housecleaning
A different checklist

I don’t want the Father, I want a vending machine
I don’t want the Father, I want a vending machine
I know what I want if you know what I mean
I don’t want the Father, I want a vending machine

– Derek Webb, “The Spirit Vs. The Kickdrum”

A lot happens between Chapters 5 and 6 of the Gospel of John. By the time we get to John 6:1, Jesus has attracted a huge following. At least 5000, and that was likely just counting adult males. Including women and children, that number could’ve been 10 or 15,000.

Jesus took the time to feed them all, and He didn’t just give them each a small ration of fish and bread. They had so much food, they couldn’t eat all of it, leaving twelve basketfuls of leftovers.

But that wasn’t enough for them.

John 6:15 says they wanted to force Him to be their king, so He had no choice but to get away. Eventually, they caught up with him, though, hungry and demanding more food. Here they were in the presence of the Son of God, and all they could think about was themselves.

Sound familiar?

So who are you following? And who’s following you? How many Twitter followers do you have? How many friends on Facebook? How many people are subscribing to your blog? And why are they following you? Why are you following them? And while we’re at it, why do you go to the church you go to?

These relationships you surround yourself with, these various communities and social networks, are they there just to serve your own needs, build up your own ego, make you somehow feel all warm and fuzzy?

Because that’s not what Jesus is about.

Yes, Jesus met His followers’ immediate needs by hosting an impromptu fish-fry. But that’s not why He was there. He was there to sacrifice Himself, die so that we could have something a lot better.

The crowd didn’t want that, though. They only cared about what they could get from Him, not about what He had to offer.

Too often, I’m guilty of the same thing. I go to church only to get something, not to be an integral part of the body of Christ. I get excited when I have new Twitter followers or new blog readers. I’m happy when it’s all about me, me, me. As if I’m anyone important.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t be active online or that it’s wrong to promote your blog or whatever. But I have to remind myself of what’s really important. It’s not about some numbers on a web page or how many brownie points I get for having perfect church attendance. It’s about developing a personal relationship with the Creator of the universe and showing His love to a world that desperately needs it.

Previously:
In the beginning…
A little social network housecleaning

The topic of the post isn’t important. It wasn’t anything controversial or anything I haven’t written about before. But it was the tone of it that bothered me when I reread it later. It was caustic, mean-spirited, and divisive, and I would’ve regretted publishing it.

Proverbs 5:1-2 (NLT) says:

My son, pay attention to my wisdom;
listen carefully to my wise counsel.
Then you will show discernment,
and your lips will express what you’ve learned.

I’d like to say that I always show discernment in what I say or write, but the truth is, I don’t. In fact, I’m lousy at it. I’d like to say that every word I speak or write reflects God’s wisdom and glorifies His Kingdom, but it doesn’t. In fact, very little of it does.

I think I’ve gotten a little better at choosing my words over the years — only after leaving a trail of destruction in my wake — but I’ve still got a long way to go. Thankfully, this is one time I chose correctly.

Then, of course, there’s the Facebook versus Twitter dilemma. When I want to announce something amazingly profound to the citizens of the Interwebs, like how I could really go for a ham sandwich right about now, do I post that nugget of eternal wisdom on Facebook or tweet it?

Of course some people do both. There’s the Twitter Facebook app that ports your tweets automatically to Facebook (in the form of your Facebook status). And the next version of TweetDeck will allow users to post their updates to Twitter, Facebook, or both. I don’t really like this approach, personally, simply because not everything I say on Twitter is necessarily appropriate for Facebook, and vice versa. Plus, at times it borders on spamming your friends, and Facebook users are already being spammed enough as it is.

So to help navigate these perilous waters of social networking, I’ve devised a simple “Blog-Facebook-Twitter” decision matrix in the same vein as Rock-Paper-Scissors.

• Does what you want to say require more than 140 characters or involve block quotes of any kind? If so, then Blog beats Twitter.
• Do you have the overwhelming desire to use the “@” symbol when referring to someone or tag everything with a “#” hashtag? If so, then Twitter beats Facebook.
• Do you want to make sure that everyone you have ever met in your entire life sees your announcement and that it will be commented on by the kid that beat you up in First Grade that you are now inexplicably Facebook friends with? If so, then Facebook beats Blog.

I hope that helps. And be sure to follow me on Twitter. You know, just in case I get any more cravings for lunchmeat.

So, as I enjoy the last couple of days of my vacation, I’ll just wish everyone out there on the Interwebs a happy New Year.

(And I promise I’ll try to be more interesting next week.)

Recently there’s been a lot of controversy floating around about Facebook’s Beacon system. Essentially, it works like this. You have a Facebook account and shop online at a company who is participating in the Beacon system, such as Overstock.com or eBay. Regardless of whether you’re logged into Facebook at the time, if you buy something from one of these companies, all of your Facebook friends are automatically notified of what you bought. Huh? Yeah.

The main controversy is not the system itself but the fact that Facebook rolled this out without notifying anyone beforehand, and now that it got caught with its hand in the cookie jar, it’s allowing people to opt out of the program.

So there’s a couple of things going on here. First, there’s the obvious “opt-in vs. opt-out” debate. Users should never be automatically be opted into anything like a mailing list or whatever. It just shouldn’t happen. Give them the opportunity to voluntarily sign up for the service if they want to, but don’t turn it on by default.

Then there’s the larger argument about privacy. If I buy something online, I don’t necessarily want all my “friends” to know.

But it really goes further than that. What is the point of Facebook anyway, or any social network for that matter? By definition, a “social network” is a network of friends and/or acquaintances, in this case communicating through the medium of the Internet. Your Facebook “friends” may or may not be your real friends, but regardless you’ve allowed them to be a part of your network. So anything you choose to make public within your social network or any social network you participate in is fair game, like it or not.

Beacon, although a stupid idea, is not the problem. The problem is with the willingness of so many people to share so much information about themselves willingly on the Internet for all to see, including friends, family, your current employer, and your future potential employers. How many people have lost their jobs because of something they foolishly posted on a blog or didn’t get a job because of an embarrassing photo that was hastily posted on their “private” MySpace page? To point out the obvious: Don’t ever put anything on the Internet that you would be embarrassed about or that would put your relationships or your job in jeopardy, even if you think no one else will ever see it. And don’t assume that because it’s password-protected that you’re safe; if the data exist on someone else’s server, you don’t have ultimate control over how it’s used.

Which brings up the issue of this blog, and something I’ve been wrestling with since I started it a few days ago. This is a personal blog, one of countless thousands of such blogs out there. I don’t really have a definitive identity for this blog as of yet, but I do want to have the freedom to say whatever is on my mind–good, bad, or ugly. But obviously, it is also a publicly viewable blog, and even if I mark it private, I have to assume that it will be viewed by someone at some point. So certain topics, while important to me and a big part of my life, are automatically off limits. Even though I may feel like blogging about certain things going on in my life, it’s not always a good idea to do so. Discretion, as Shakespeare wrote, is the better part of valor.

Coincidentally, Jacquielynn Floyd wrote about Facebook and the subject of privacy in her Dallas Morning News column today, summing it up this way:

But for a culture that purports, at a philosophical level, to cherish individual privacy, we certainly seem to be in a hurry to throw it away.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.