Walking in the Garden

He tells me I am His own.

[ncurfman]

And Just Like That, This Blog Ended.

If you’d like to continue reading my stuff, head over to nikcurfman.com. I’m paying for that site, so it makes sense to maintain it rather than have to sites. 

I’ll occasionally post here? Once a week or so.  

[ncurfman]

DJ: #56 Fight for Yourself

I am weary to sound authoritarian in this space. I am not expert or sage. But, if you’ll allow, today I feel the Spirit. So stick with me.

Outside of us are a thousand voice trying to sell us a solution. Amazon made it a one-click fix. Wal Mart will deliver your answers. And, Apple will stream what you want to soothe your soul. They aren’t the only ones though. Have you read the latest “life-changing” book? Or tried the newest “energy-boosting” diet? Retail therapy and engaging in self-help literature are no substitute for the act of loving yourself.

Here is a million dollars and ten-thousand days worth of wisdom:

What feeds our soul and nourishes our spirit is almost always free. The food we crave is in the doing and being. The problem with these acts and motions is they require inner motivation. We must believe they are worth doing and are as crucial as oxygen. We must prioritize ourselves, confess “I’m worthy of love and I love myself.”

When I decided to love myself, I finally found the strength to sit with Jesus and feed my heart. When I choose to face my fear of failure and rejection, I found acceptance. When I decide to battle the insecurity of the day I move bit closer to complete victory. I am important, and I deserve to treat myself as well as I can. My world is vastly different than it was despite the world around me being mostly the same mess it always is.

To you, my loved reader, I say advise this: love thyself. Please. Your soul has parts only you can feed and grow. Find what gives you life and engage it everyday, no excuses. If it’s reading, then read. If it’s having coffee on the back porch, then sip away.

My favorites are:

1) My morning walk with Jesus, to pray and affirm myself.

2) A good diet. I eat well and it’s good for me.

3) Writing. I’m not particularly talented or skilled, but I enjoy watching words appear on a screen or on a paper.

4) Being creative. Fortunately my job requires creative thinking. And I began to make art again. Which is scary, but thrilling.

5) My evening grounding session. I find a patch of grass to plunk down upon. Then I pray and listen. Usually I will also journal and read.

All of these activities give me space to breath and find my center in Jesus. They allow me to connect to who I am. Find yours, then guard them as though your soul depends on it. You need you as much as you need anyone else.

[ncurfman]

Up Coming Changes

More changes are in store for this blog. For starters, I changed my professional website nikcurfman.com to be less professional. And I will be posting blogs both here and there. It will be the exact same content. 

The domain strongtreeblog.com will point to the website, not here. So no need to update anything. 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #55 When Songs Have Meaning

The first church I remember is Hillcrest Baptist Church in Elgin, South Carolina. It’s a red brick country church with wrought iron hand rails and the iconic white steeple. In the sanctuary, beyond the wooden pews, were a piano to the right of the pulpit and an organ to the left. It was in this setting I first encountered God in the joy of worship. While I couldn’t read, I was able to memorize songs, and probably made up verses when I needed to fill in the gaps. 

Later, our family took a dramatic turn when we started making the trek across Columbia to Church on the Rock. They met in a warehouse, used modern sound equipment, and danced. I hated it. From the get. While this congregation believed in an active, powerful, and miraculous God, they had no concept of love or grace. They were very binary in their views, and saw demons around every corner. 

Soon after Church on the Rock, and comically even further from our house, we began driving to Morning Star in Charlotte. The music quality was outstanding for the mid 90′s, and Morning Star was bit more free than the others. However, I in was high school at this point, and decided church wasn’t an institution for me. I’d seen enough bullshit and hypocrisy. 

But, the Lord being ever faithful, met me and pulled me to Himself. In my early 20′s, I committed to follow Him and wound up in ministry school. Despite this rebirth, I would continue to loathe corporate worship. The songs meant nothing to me. They seemed to be written and sung by hipster douche bags who settled for worship leader because they couldn’t hack it as an artist. 

When I did sing to the Lord is was usually the older hymns of my childhood. I also found songs by U2, Sufjan Stevens, and even Pearl Jam to be more meaningful and relevant. The rare exception did exist, but when I moved to Redding- home of Bethel Music- I lacked any desire to learn their songs. So I didn’t. 

Here, in the 2020 AD, among all the upgrades, challenges, and changes, the songs have meaning. It took me a week or two, and admittedly against my will. But damnit, the songs have meaning. 

In early June I watched the train of my life completely jump tracks. I was sick, single again, and in need of a new career. And instead of sinking into self-pity and despair, I sat before the Lord and bled my heart out to Him. Part of this process included sitting with my friends*, allowing them to love me. Which they faithfully did. 

For two to three weeks, I visited my friends Jesse and Rob everyday. My visits lasted hours, and Jesse, who believes in ‘soaking’, usually played worship music. Since it was their home I said nothing despite my aversion to it. Then, during a quiet moment on their couch one song caught my attention. It was So Will I as song by Amanda Cook. 

God of salvation You chased down my heart Through all of my failure and pride On a hill You created The light of the world Abandoned in darkness to die

I cried a deep sorrowful cry that day. My raw heart was finally ready to let go of all its justifications and rationale. I was ready to accept imperfection. Whatever the sins of the songwriter, there is a reality of Jesus I didn’t understand, couldn’t relate to. And now totally humbled and submitted, I understood.

While I have no problem with secular music, I have observed a difference in my attitude and approach to life with these songs in my head. I find it easier to overcome the shitty moments with the line “You’re never gonna let me down” stuck in my head, in opposition to “We all live in a yellow submarine.” 

My new appreciation for worship music is a great gift. God is so so so so good. 

Some current favorites:

[ncurfman]

DJ: Leaving Them Behind

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”

- Henry David Thoreau

One of the glaring difficulties of recent life is the dread of letting some relationships go, as I move onward with Jesus. I want and intend to live my life from a place of joy and hope, not cynicism and fear. It follows then I have less tolerance for those dedicated to their slop. I get it. I was in their shoes. I have no hate for them, only compassion. 

I just don’t want to hear them complain about their jobs and lives. Mind you, the people I picture as I write are, by most accounts, great people. And they have stacks of blessings in their lives: good jobs, good families, etc. All the things. 

But because I know them, because I’ve gotten closer to them, I know their cracks and flaws. And...they are trapped in their fears and insecurity. They never have “a good day.” Life is marked by frustration and the trials they face. At the other end of their angst is usually another person, someone they give power to and allowed to steal their peace. They describe life in sarcasm, memes, and tired complaints. 

They are perpetual victims. 

I know the land they inhibit. Lived there myself, for a bit. They don’t know how easy it is to be something else, to live from their hearts and experience daily renewal of their souls. Instead they are apathetic and lonely, never able to experience true peace. They are the walking definition of the quote above- desperate. 

It is not a new understanding, to know people suffer, to know my friends suffer. What is new, for me, is the belief I must continue onward with the Lord. It’s not my place to fix them or stop what I’m doing to entertain them. In fact, the best action I can take is to keep going, show them a different route is available. 

It’s a tough choice to carry to live out. I love my friends. I know and see the best in them, and I hurt they choose to live a life below what they are called to experience. I have to tell myself it’s not my job to save them. I’m not the Holy Spirit or the Father. I can’t see their hearts and what they need. He does. He gets it. 

I’m not an asshole for moving on, but it can feel like it. How plainly I see their pain and struggles with insecurity, with self-pity, with hopelessness. But my hope isn’t in my pop-psychology or wisdom. The Lord is good, and I trust Him. I trust Him with my heart, my hopes, and future. 

I trust Him with my friends too. He loves them more than I’ll ever know. And I will hope and pray for them, that they will see His light and move into it. They have their own path of glory to walk. 

Lord,

Touch my friends. Remove the scales from the hearts, and the chains from their minds. Water the seeds of joy and peace you sowed into them, and give me the Grace to be the friend they need. I can see what I see, but I am not You. Your will be done.

Amen. 

[ncurfman]

A: Never Alone

Loneliness is more often a state of mind than our reality. 

I have, in moments of self-hatred and denial, felt the sting of loneliness, on my birthday, surrounded by my friends, who were in the room to celebrate my life. 

My loneliness was was form of self-belittlement, and the older I grew the more I knew something was amiss. Akin to self-imposed isolation, it stemmed from an insecure crack in my chest, when I craved approval and validation. I’d slink into my hovel desperately hoping for anyone to break through and scream “I LOVE YOU NIK, YOU ARE GOOD MAN, AND YOU ARE BRILLIANT, AND KIND, AND FUNNY, AND CUTE, AND ALL THE THINGS A GOOD MAN IS.” 

It was an evil game with no winner. 

During the summer of 2020, I spent as much time by myself as I have ever spent alone. And yet, loneliness did not come calling. The solid truth is I never was or ever will be alone. 

I am loved.

I am worthy of love.

I love myself. 

And He, the Goodness and Gracious Gifter of Life, is always with me. 

[ncurfman]

A: Ode to Bo

He stood up straight, and wore his confidence like a crown. His broad face and iron stare preached louder than any sermon.

This was the greatest athlete you ever saw.

He glided on the football field, until he needed to charge. It’s uncommon to see such grace and swift feet attached to body of a bulldozer. In a world full of fast men, and strong men, he was both. In the same violent body.

But we are not talking about a mere football player. No. No-no-no.

For then we turn to the outfield. And out on the grass, he was there. Upright and focused. Like a video game glitch, he ran up walls in defiance of gravity and logic, unleashed throws that captured the attention of all baseball, and manufactured the prettiest swing in generations.

No. Bo was no ordinary man. We are ordinary. He was extraordinary.

And life being life, it was all gone on a lazy Sunday afternoon. One show-stopping injury against the Cincinnati Bengals, of all teams, ended this brilliant display of athletic glory.

I can mourn the loss of something so good, and find gratitude in the same space. Bo Jackson is not a myth or fairy tale. I was a witness, the greatest athlete I ever saw.

[ncurfman]

A: Peace In the Fog

He lingered in the mist. His face wet and cold, but not weary. “Memory is a tough chain to break,” he admitted. But soon after, his feet touched earth to the rhythm of a stride, to where he could not answer. Deeper into the mist he went. 

Alone in the endless gray cloud, he began to ponder his life back in the old sloppy house. Though he hated it, the routine and ease were comfortable. Predictable. Almost bearable. And still, always a shadow, a derivative of what could be. Never the gospel of genuine substance or Love. 

To be in the fog, walking toward an unknown destination was a feat of itself. He battled to leave his tiny dark room, plugged his ears to ignore the shouts of apathy and desperation as he ran down the hallway. And then at the last, he forced himself from the porch, the last visible place of safety, into the Midst. 

He wanted a plan, a goal, a point on the map, anything to rest his mind while he strolled. Everything inside him told him he needed a plan, because “it’s responsible.” At nearly 40, how could he look a woman in the face, a potential companion and confess he did “not have a goal?” (He did have a goal, but who wants to hear a grown man say his life goal is to walk with Jesus everyday, into this great expanse? To allow life to dip and duck and rise without doubt? To be himself?)  

Without warning or needed explanation, Wisdom rose within him. He stopped to focus on the voice within.

“You no longer need a plan or a goal. You’ve done the will of the Father. You’ve leap into faith, and go daily into the Midst, to know and to be known by the Lord. I promised to see to everything else in your life. And so I shall. You keep walking into the Midst. I’ll get you where you need to be.” 

He continued to stand in the fog, no longer interested in the destination. His future will be with the others in the mist, not the miserables back in the house. In the mist, they will understand his heart and his joy. They will not find comfort or have need for elaborate blueprints of control. “Goodbye house mind,” he chuckled. In all his years he never felt the peace he felt in that moment. His mind no longer focused on the future, but on Jesus the Christ. 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #53 No More Porn

I don’t know where to begin to compare my porn-watching habits to the next person’s. I once described myself as a porn addict, but I think that label is a bit much. I could go for up to a year with looking at porn. But when I did, it would be for hours. And then not again for weeks or months; however, when life felt overwhelming, porn was a drug of choice. It gave me something food can’t, regardless of it’s counterfeit nature.

I never justified my porn binges. (And despite the mixed messages from the scientific community, porn is a soul killing enterprise for everyone involved, the actors, the production crew, and the viewers. And we are becoming increasingly aware of how often the actors are victims of human trafficking.) Never once did I finish and go about my life as normal. Attached to it was the guilty and shame us religious folk feel when we know we did a uh-oh. 

Whenever I watched porn, I was in a mental and emotional hell. My self-esteem was low. And porn was just the right amount of disgusting to prove the central thesis of my life “I AM A PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT.” It was a weird way to confirm this belief. “I am a loser. Guess I’ll watch porn. See! You watch porn, so you must be a loser.” 

Fast forward to September, the Year of our Lord 2020, and I can’t remember the last time I watched porn. Some time early last year, 2019? Potentially close to 18 months ago? It’s a sign of something the Lord is doing in my chest. And instead of pride, I feel gratitude in my heart.  

I can’t speak for anyone else, but porn was always a symptom of deeper flaws in my heart, never the flaw itself. And while I haven’t watched porn in a long time, I have felt slight pulls to return to it every month or so, when my guard is down, and my self-pity rises. Fortunately, I now recognize this temptation as the signs it is. If I feel tempted to watch porn, I know I’m not doing well. So I enact my self-pity escape plan- pray, go for a walk, text some friends, and sit before the Lord until it passes. (I don’t f-ck around with self-pity. It leads to everything nasty and self-destructive in my life.) 

More recently, I’ve begun to feel victorious over porn, as in I will not struggle with it again. It is part of the fruit of the Lord in my life. Like I said above, it’s not pride. It’s confidence. I know if I continue intentionally walk with Jesus, the self-hating, needy Nik has got to die. In its place, growing even now, is the me I always wanted to be. 

Lord, thank you. I always hated porn, hate that watched it, and hated how it gave me brief moments of pleasure. Thank you for giving me something far greater than an ability to avoid sin and temptation. You’ve given me life and purpose and peace. You’ve given me tools to use and people to lean on. You took my sad heart and broken mind and gave me your heart and your mind. 

Lord I ask for your grace and love to coat this planet. Strike the heart of every man and woman and child. Give them eyes to see your glory, and ear to hear your voice, and a brain to receive your blessings. 

Amen. 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #52 Choice is My Super Power

The last time I stepped on a scale I weighed 231 pounds. Officially, it marks a loss a 74 pounds from 305 pounds. (I think I weighed closer to 310 at some point, but I’ll never know what my highest weight was.) I was stoked when I saw the number. Every pound lost, no matter how long it takes to fall, represents the the fruit of the decision I made and my commitment to my decision. 

Should you wonder, my commitment isn’t to a particular diet or exercise program. I am one of those people who used food as a drug to drown my shame and self-hatred. The choice I made was to love myself as my Father loves me- to accept myself as is, to be kind and gracious when I need it, and to affirm myself so I don’t live off others. 

This morning I thought about humanity, how we have this gift we labeled choice. Each of us has the ability to wake up and be something different than we were the day before. All of hell may raise within us, try to drag us back to our prisons, but everyday is a day to be whatever we want to be. 

Should I need to say it, I will. I am not referring to the unrealistic mantra of our age “You can do anything to set your mind to do.” That’s a load of bullshit. It sets people up for failure and disappointment. I cannot now or ever play in the NBA. It was never on the table. 

What I am focused on is the how we live. Do we believe the glass is half full? With more on the way? Do we believe in ourselves? Life is full of an infinite amount of variables beyond our control: who are parents are, our DNA, where we were born, etc. And we, in and of ourselves, have a small impact on our world. Most of us will live and die in relative obscurity. So what? All the better to live and take chances, never accept you are defeated. I’ve been overweight my entire life. And I know deep in my bones, those days are coming to an end. Permanently. 

I don’t know how smart I am (really), or wise, or kind, or loving, or peaceful, creative, manly, etc. Who does? But I do have the ability to choose, to decide how I will live my life with the Lord and in relationship to those around me. 

I choose to live in the Sun. To be eternally hopeful and push on toward whatever greatness I am capable of beholding. 

What a gift. What a power. 

[ncurfman]

A: From Safe into the Mystery

In silence my dream vanished. The safety and hope of my glossy future disappeared like the make-believe it was, and I possessed nothing to bring it to life. I was empty-handed as ever.

Faithfully, I opened my eyes to reality, to my pathetic room in a sloppy old mansion. “Why had I settled here?” I wondered. The only sign of hope was the light which beamed through the thin window at the far corner of the room. The brightness covered the dark, but only where it could. Still, the glow was warm and invited me onward. 

For a beat, I thought about going back to my dream, a return to the shelter of my fantasies. However, on this day, the light seemed too pure to ignore. And as I gazed upon it, I became aware of a sweet aroma leaking through the walls. In combination with the light, they were too much to spurn. 

My courage rising, I reviewed what I knew about the bright light, sweet scent, and all Mystery beyond this broken place. In my youth I dared touch it. I dared to believe I could move beyond my need for dreams and comfort. I dared to join my place in Creation. 

I gave my dreams one more consideration, how perfect they seemed. Then the reality of the tiny room began to speak. “Those dreams are not where you live, they are where you escape. How long will you hide in this room? Dreaming dreams, but never living life?”

“But Lord, what if I fail at being me?” 

“Come with Me, and I will carry you into the future.”

After years of dreaming, the decision made itself. Slowly I swung my feet to the floor, and staggered through the door. My weary legs, acting on their own accord, led me down the hallway. On either side I saw tiny room after tiny room. Like my tiny room, no doors. Like mine, each one filled with a single person. 

In some were people dreaming like me, forever focused on the future. Their smiling faces disconnected from their wretched decaying bodies.

On I went until I passed a respectable looking young woman, alone in her chair, facing the door. As I shuffled past, she yelled, “The fuck do you think you’re doing? There’s nothing out there. GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM!”

I didn’t stop to contemplate her words. I couldn’t. My mind was set to give my heart the breath it needed. 

Near the end of the hall I heard the cries of those terrorized by the night. They begged for relief, yet when help came they rolled over to start again. Back to the horrors. Among the voices I heard her, the voice of my sister. I raced to her room. From the doorway I screamed, “Wake up!! JOIN ME!” Tears fell from my face, as I wailed in vain. She didn’t hear me. She couldn’t. 

Sadly, I found the staircase leading away from this hall of pain. I stopped for a moment, a thousand miserable voices behind me. On cue the One small voice whispered, “Trust Me.” 

Without delay, down the steps and onto the front porch I ran. The light was bright on my face, the scent of the outside air sweeter than ever. I shielded my eyes until they adjusted to the new. As they focused I stood in shock by what I saw. 

From the thin window in my tiny room I never quiet knew what lay beyond, but now I stood face to face with a thick, misty fog. And though I felt it beckon me onward, panic wrapped my heart. 

“Lord, what is this? This isn’t a plan. Where do I go? What do I do?”

“Come into the mist. Grab my hand. Let Me lead.”

“Trust Me.” 

“Lord, I’m afraid. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Trust Me.”

And not wanting to go back, not to the tiny room, to the unfilled dreams, and hopeless hopes. Or to hallway full of people frozen and beaten by fear. I tripped forward. The sloppy fear at my back, not dreaming, but living, I marched into the unknown. Off the porch I leap, into the great Mystery, my hand in His. 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #51 The Expressed Me, Confident or Insecure?

If you believe in such modern who-hacky, I am a two on the Enneagram. It means I can love and want to help people, but when I’m unhealthy I can turn to people pleasing. I become needy and insecure. 

When I finally read books about the Enneagram, I knew I didn’t need to read past two. And fortunately, I’m not an immature two. I’ve progressed along the scale toward the healthy expression of who I am over the last ten years, with a sharp upgrade this summer. 

The best version of me- the person I long to be- is truly selfless, confident, empathetic, and personally detached. I use the word detached because throughout my life I judged my self-worth by those around me. I needed to produce change and affect the people around me. I needed their praise. It’s a cup with a hole at the bottom, never full. 

What I notice now is my efforts to be selfless, confident, and empathetic can and sometimes are unrecognized. (Really? If my roommate doesn’t say ‘thank you’ when I take out the trash, did I even do it? HAHAHAHAHAH. I was never that bad. I take out the trash cause it needs done, but you get the point.) When I’m healthy, I don’t even think about it. When I’m needy and insecure, I do. 

Such is being an imperfect human. 

This morning I was locked in a small skirmish with my insecurity. I felt a need to be seen as successful. AND I HATE THAT NEEDY FEELING. It’s so disgusting, and weak. 

As I finished my prayers I saw myself as having two faces. One was the old insecure sonofabitch, and the other was younger more self assured, still growing. I don’t expect to have all my insecurity rooted out any time soon. But I do expect to continue to grow into myself. I’m in process and I’ve submitted to the One in charge of my transformation. 

I expect to have many more battles with my need to be validated. It’s ok. I’ve got a winning streak going against that bastard, and I’m gonna continue to win until his needy ass stops coming around. I am enjoying the spoils of my victories as well, true gratitude, less anxiety, less control, being present. AND...I find less disappointment in the humans around me, because I am not making an unspoken contract with them- my kindness for their validation. 

There exists a bit of irony here, in this blog. Everyday I show up to write and post. And my motivations, at times, have been mixed. My truest heart is to show people the loving Jesus, everyday. I want to write about how He loves me, and them, and how life-giving it is. That’s all I really want. And yet, a lingering desire to write well, to be seen as smart and intelligent exists. Weeds growing with the wheat. 

Again, such is being an imperfect human. 

Part of my healing and growth comes through self-love. I never expected it to be so, but there it is. My daily confessions and positive affirmations are rewiring my brain. And as I wrote in a previous blog, the compliments of others barely register in my ego. I’m thankful for them,  but they are no longer fuel. They are no longer needed. 

The best fruit is my ability to step out into the undeveloped parts of my heart, to been seen as a fool, or untalented, or unskilled, to show up everyday as me regardless of the outcome or feedback. 

Sweet Jesus, thank you for all the seeds you planted in me. Thank you for watering my soil and remaining patient with me. Please continue to pull the weeds of self-doubt and neediness out of my chest. 

I don’t need to proof anything to anyone. I do not need to be seen by anyone. I am loved and valued, because I am alive. No matter what.  

[ncurfman]

A: Death, A Sweet Friend

Hand to hand, science engaged, we fight it. Death. The thief of life. 

Kick, punch, and scream, He arrives on time. Taking what He came for. 

We may delay Him, extend the days we have left, but we cannot defeat Him.

But what if Death is our friend, not our sacred enemy?

Death leaves gifts we need but open. In the space where life was He always leaves what will be. What could be. But being flawed, being beings in need of order and shelter, we try to hide from His blessings. 

We build towering monuments to our pain. Swear by our lives to never put ourselves in Death’s path again. As if we have the ability to control Him. 

No, Death is not the enemy. When a bright hour is gone, a loved one in decay, and a hope smashed into shards of grief, Death’s purpose is to carry it away. The remains of what was, to clear our ground for new life. For new hopes and dreams, and stages for joy and peace. 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #50 A New Routine

This morning I woke up to an email from a client. An ad I created for their business was rejected by Facebook for violating the “Personal Attribute Policy.” After nearly an hour of wrangling, the ad is still in review as of this post. Facebook has tightened their controls to a ridiculous degree, and it is affecting small businesses. They are literally dictating the wording I use...for a local gardening business. A garden business. People trying to help the community get the most out of their home gardens. 

Stupid. 

I was annoyed. I’m just a man trying to help his clients grow and create business. And, like it or not, Facebook has become an integral part of small business growth. I don’t like it. Facebook can make decisions, like a government, and the rest of us have to adjust. It is what is. 

I say I was annoyed, because after wrestling with the beast, I chose a different path. I got up, walked outside, and let my frustration out into the wind. The wind can have it. I don’t need or want it. I can’t control Facebook, and I’m doing the best I can. It is what it is. No need to carry it around all day. 

In the past, I was tripped and defeated by moments like this. A tiny hurdle could send me into a spiral of self-doubt. Not today Satan. 

I haven’t failed, and my life isn’t tied to the moment. This simple change in perspective is powerful. I’m not angry or worried about my future. I’m not worried about the client, partially because I know everything and everyone is going to be OK. My future doesn’t hinge on a single event. 

Thank you Lord for sticking with me. For teaching me to let go. Thank you for giving me vision for how to love myself when the winds howl in my face. Even to giggle at their failure. 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #49 Moving On, In Hope

It was the disconnect I wanted and needed ever since May 31st. Last night, I finally let her go. I finally released what was, and settled into the truth of my existence. I trust Jesus. This trust, a hope, empowers me to believe the best is ahead, not behind. 

I feel a bit like Abraham, laying my promise on the altar to be sacrificed. Thankfully, I know about Abraham, and Esther, and Job, and Jesus, and Paul. The promises of God are better than what we can imagine. He provides a way when we let Him work. 

Overall, I’m relieved to create a space for pure friendship with her. No expectations. No personal hopes. Something new for both of us. And if something were to develop, I wouldn’t shoot it down. But I am not going back to what we had. It was special and sweet, and incredibly flawed. Neither of us lived from our hearts. I ignored myself and got sick. But...also, some really powerful seeds sprouted too. So who knows what could happen? 

She remains, and probably will always be, one of the best people I’ll ever know. I have nothing but gratitude for her. Even now. She carries the room to a higher place, has little tolerance for cynicism, and desperately longs to walk in the love and grace of the Holy Spirit. She does all that without being condescending or weird. (And yes, she is flawed. A gift I gave myself when I first met her was I never idealized her. But her greatness will always outweigh her weaknesses.) I could go on and on about what I like about this woman, obviously. Her awesomeness was not dependent on my opinion(or anyone’s opinion, or her opinion), it’s inherent in who she is. 

As of today and onward, my faith roots are growing deeper in the Lord. She set a new standard for what I expect from a girlfriend in my life, and my expectations are higher for the future, from who ever I date and from myself. It feels good to know I’m not going backwards. I’m not laying something down to settle for less. God is so good. 

[ncurfman]

A: He Remained

Every blow I absorbed, every fall I fell, and every shot exploded through me..did not take me down. I thought they would. But looking for reasons why, I agonized over each calamity and judged myself (a creation of the King) to be unworthy. Why else would life punch, push, and fight me? Try to murder me? 

Answer, life did not value me. This world and all of its cruel routines did not want me. My heart, with its need to live, slunk back into a deep hole. In fear it longed to be loved, to be needed. In fear it stayed in its depression. I was worthless.

Yet always and without relent, He remained. Dark day and endless night, He kept watch. Through stinging rain and brutal freezing wind, He stood unmoved. Through depression and suicide, addiction and late night porn binges, He waited. Through self-sabotaging pride and aimless dreaming, He lingered still. Through profane curses, annoying grumbles, cynical rants, and disbelief, He patiently sat outside my prison for me.

Despite my attempts to block Him out, to believe I was not worth His effort- nothing I did, nothing I said, no thought I beheld sent Him away. And in the waiting He proved Himself true. What the world thinks, whatever it believes about me, however it decides to treat me, I AM WORTHY OF THE KING.  

And who am I to disagree, with Him? 

[ncurfman]

DJ: #48 Old Friends

Yesterday was the day after my birthday. Forty years of life, plus one day. In the evening, I went to Freedom Park in Charlotte to meet up with some old friends: a sound engineer, a singer/song writer, a screen writer/director, and a producer. We sat on the grass across from the amphitheater and talked like old friends do as the daylight dwindled. It was as if no time or distance separated us from one another. We spent hours going over our thoughts on the coming election, COVID-19, and our families. My heart was full and grateful being in the moment. 

Upon reflection, one thing was missing, one old friend: my insecurity. Usually, in any similar setting, I am consumed by the overwhelming need to prove myself, to prove I’ve got my shit together. Last night I was content to listen, content to be between career paths, and content to speak confidently when asked a question. 

This morning, I felt loved. Like truly loved. And it is a healthy feeling. I say healthy because I’m not chasing an emotional high. In fact, I never really felt an emotional high. All the same, today I realized those guys, men I’ve known for 20 years, never gave a shit about what I did for work or my social status. 

Here is the straight truth: I cared about my social status. I cared about my job, my relationship status, my waistline, and social standing. So I projected my insecurity onto them. Conversely, I couldn’t receive what they gave because I didn’t trust it. How can anyone value me? I’m a piece of shit. I believed they were either fooled or trying to con me. If you knew the real me, you wouldn’t be this way, or what are you trying to get from me?

God is good folks. He cares about the way we see ourselves. He patiently walked with me for the last twenty years to get me to this point, the point where I’m not an insecure emotional wreck. It feels good to fully let go of judgement and comparison, to focus on being Nik- a man with nothing to prove. 

Lord, thanks for my friends. My true friends. Thank you for their love and kindness through the years. Bless them and their wives, and families. Pour out your love and grace on their hearts. Draw them closer to your center. 

Amen.