I'll Be Home for Christmas

I'm headed home tomorrow to spend eight wonderful days in Central Texas with my family. My semester ended last night and I told physics and organic chemistry goodbye. We've had a strained relationship over the past few months, and in the end, we decided it was best for us to go our separate ways. :)

Texas will be great. My mom is having an "Old-fashion Christmas" this year. It will be perfect, complete with comfort food, lazy days, and sappy Christmas music. Picture Country Living meets Reba McEntire singing "Silent Night". Can't wait! My mom has a theme for the Christmas tree each year. My favorite theme was "Texas Christmas" where the tree was decorated with chili-pepper lights, rope, red bandanas, and a cowboy hat on top. This year, she told me she's decorated the tree with all the ornaments that we boys grew up with. Christmas ornaments are special. I look forward to reminiscing and to the down-time.

all the pretty Circumstance

My younger brother, Matthew, forwarded this YouTube link to me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdxkVQy7QLM

It's really entertaining for those who consider themselves musically-minded. This guy's commentary is dead on. And his thoughts about the cello are my thoughts about playing trombone and about singing bass, for that matter.

In Pachelbel's Canon in D, the cellos have the same eight quarter notes over and over again. Same story for us trombones in the ever-popular graduation song Pomp and Circumstance. We have the same repeated quarter notes throughout the whole piece, and if you've ever played at a graduation, it's about 20 minutes of continuous Pomp ("pomp, pomp, pomp, pomp"). It's a shame that the woodwinds and strings get to play all the pretty Circumstance. Someday, we'll have our moment!

Create Providence

My friend Hilary had this to say in church, recently:

About two months ago I decided I need to go to Nigeria, to found a non-profit and take a group of artists to work with an orphanage and home for battered women called Susana Homes. I’d had this idea for two years, but it was at the Pepperdine Lectures in early May that the vision snapped into focus. In the weeks that followed, as I drove my parent’s car around California and listened to the new worship CDs we’d acquired that week, I found myself questioning the lyrics to the songs I normally would have embraced wholeheartedly. Nnow, with every worship song I sung along to, I pictured standing on the stage we’re going to build, with my friends, leading worship for the people of these villages. And the words only seemed appropriate for us in our 1st world, developed country lives.

Blessed be your name in the land that is plentiful
Where your streams of abundance flow
And blessed be your name when I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
On the road marker with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be your name


When I sing about the desert place, the wilderness, my road marked with suffering … I am maybe thinking about a time when I felt lonely, my anxiety about my career or finances, breaking up with a boyfriend, or maybe acknowledging that I haven’t been spending as much time with God as I should. And let’s be honest, it’s not all that hard for me to still trust and praise God for his goodness even when I feel uncertain about, say, my career. I do believe He has a plan for me. But for these villages living in extreme poverty? Children who have been orphaned. Women beaten and abused. People without hope that their lives are going to get better. Without opportunity to get out. Just praying for rain, praying there will be enough food, praying their wife won’t be one of the many who die in child birth, praying that they don’t have AIDS and pass it onto their children, praying that God will send them parents and a family. How do they say “Blessed be your name”? I say it in my “desert place” … curled up on my down comforter in my brand new apartment building with my breathtaking view of Manhattan. I trust that the streams of abundance will flow again because they have, because He has provided and He is good. But have these children ever been in a land that is plentiful? Have they ever been just bowled over by the sheer power of streams of abundance?

Hilary has followed through with her vision and has founded a non-profit organization called Create Providence. In short, they are a group of 12 professional artists from here in NYC who are traveling to Nigeria for awhile, sharing their talent and training with children living in extreme poverty in the hope of bringing them greater beauty, joy, creativity, and empowering them to find their own unique voices and gifts.

Each artist needs to raise $3000 to cover the cost of their trip. They leave in January. There is a link on the Create Providence website where you can find out how you can donate money and/or supplies for this endeavor. I am moved by the passion these artists have for their work and how they are using it to glorify Him. Keep the artists of Create Providence bathed in prayer as they prepare for their trip.

There's This UFO...

Up the street from me, a group of people have constructed a life-size UFO in front of this house. It's part of a "Halloween walk" in the neighborhood, but politically-inspired as well. As you can tell from the photo, the UFO sits in faux graveyard where some of the epitaphs are worth mentioning below. What you can't see from the photos are the aliens that are peeking out of the windows of the surrounding houses. And, the people in these houses have replaced all their lights with green bulbs, so the houses give off this eery glow at night. If you have a chance to stroll through Clinton Hill (right off the Clinton-Washington stop on the G line), you should check it out.

• Here Lies Congestion Pricing: the dolts in Albany do not care about the quality of our air

• I [heart] NRA: Rest in Pieces

• Gonsalez, Scooter, Rove & Rummy: here do turn to waste; worms and bugs don't find them yummy. Oh, creatures of such taste!

• Luciano Pavorotti: he has gone to that great all you can sing buffet in the sky. Buon Giorno!

• Here Lies myspace.com--abducted by Facebook

• Marcel Marceau: 1923-2007; Now he really is trapped in a box

Ya se casaron!

Mexico was awesome! It's a sanctuary, it's downtime, it's family, it's laughing together, it's home-cooked meals, and all those other wonderful things you love about going back home.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Both ceremonies were great. FYI, in Mexico, there are two parts to getting married: the first ceremony, called the "civil ceremony", happens the day before the religious ceremony. It takes place before a judge. The families are present including two selected "witnesses" for each of the bride and groom, who must sign the wedding certificate. The second ceremony is the traditional church ceremony that we are accustomed to here in the US (barring a few cultural differences). The civil ceremony was on Friday. I was honored to be one of Fer's witnesses. The church wedding was Saturday evening at La Iglesia de Cristo en Sierra Ventana, followed by all-out party at a reception hall.

Check out the pictures I posted.

La boda del siglo

I'm headed to Monterrey on Thursday this week and cannot wait! It's been over a year since I've been back. I can't wait to see the house, sleep in my bed, eat tacos, and laugh with my brothers. It's been too long since we've seen each other.

My older brother, Fer, is getting married on Saturday. I'm honored to be in the wedding and to share in this day with him and the rest of the Santos family. Please keep Fer and Vero and their marriage in your prayers. Look for pictures here when I get back in town.

Update on Ellen

Ellen had her surgery last Friday morning. My co-workers and I went to go see her this morning after we got off work. She was awake and able to talk to us and we were grateful for that. According to her, the surgery was a success and went very well. That is very good news.

She was more than a little frustrated with the nursing care she is receiving at the hospital where she had the surgery (won't mention the name, but it's a world-renowned, private hospital). Evidently, their care is not up to par with the nurses at Bellevue (woop! woop!). Guess it's true, that all that glitters is not gold. Bellevue is more like coal, but we try to glitter in our own way.

Thank you all for thoughts and prayers on her behalf. More updates to come.

some thoughts on the Holy Spirit

Over the past month, I have had some difficult, albeit necessary, conversations with my family regarding homosexuality and, in particular, my life as a gay Christian. We don't agree, as a whole family, on the issue of homosexuality and its place in the life of a Christian. The fact that we don't agree has caused me some stress, some worry, and some requests for prayer, because I have felt like eventual unanimity was very important.

In my Bible reading last week, I came to a new understanding of my decision and my family's decisions, which I will attempt to share here. It involves the Holy Spirit and its role in allowing, in fact demanding, us each to live out wholly the intricacies of our individual salvations. Let me explain.

We (Christians, my family) all believe in the same resurrection. However, our respective Christianities are going to look different beyond that. It wasn't for no good reason that I felt called to leave home and move to New York a few years ago. It was no accident that I came to a crisis point in my life which demanded me to make a decision on how to live out my sexuality as a man of God. My membership in CCfB was also not incidental. Quite the contrary. These events I attribute to the work of the Spirit. It has been the lived experiences of Nate Jones that have allowed me to arrive at my decision. This decision was crucial for my salvation. This issue, more than any other, consumed my life and necessitated a decision that has, in part, shaped my salvation and how I will proceed with my Christianity.

The Spirit didn't call my brothers or my parents to come to New York. It has called them other places, to wrestle with other things that are crucial to their respective salvations. It only now makes sense to me that everyone's salvation will look different because God has created each one of us as individuals, not clones. So, if someone's belief in homosexuality (or any other issue, for that matter) differs from mine, that's okay. If they are decidedly against it or are ambiguous about it, that's okay. For I know what I've decided for myself that is vital to my walk, that allows me to now be outwardly focused, that which is significant to my salvation. For others, they will have their own issues and struggles which are paramount in their salvations, which will be worked out in the course of their lifetimes.

In Philippians chapter 2, Paul writes, "...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." It is not on our own merit but by God, who gives us the ability, to decide what is good and right and then to act on it, according to our principles (paraphrased, Matthew Henry Commentary).

Let me add this: this line of thought can be a slippery slope. Critics may argue that suddenly anything can become permissible because it is "crucial to someone's salvation." Obviously, salvation is not something to be discussed nonchalantly or worked out cavalierly. We have to trust each other, as Christian brothers and sisters, that anything placed under the umbrella of salvation has been worked through in true pain. It is something that requires perseverent and painstaking care.

My new understanding does not completely absolve me or the church of its responsibility to continue difficult conversations. It does, though, allow for a degree of grace and permission to individualize the process of working out one's salvation.

Ellen

Friends & Family,

A co-worker of mine, Ellen, desperately needs prayer right now. She has some severe, chronic health problems related to high-dose, internal radiation treatments she received for cancer when she was a very young woman. She has already had multiple surgeries and is scheduled for additional surgery very soon. She is too sick to work, yet working so much each week to try and stay afloat financially.

She is scared for her own life, for her financial well-being, and for her future. Ellen has had a difficult life, full of betrayal and disappointment, and she needs so much to feel loved and to feel some very profound healing.

Please add Ellen to your prayer list, that God will be unmistakably present for her.

RENT

Have you ever had the opportunity to stand in front of your favorite painting, or hear your favorite song performed live, or listen to an author you love read from his or her book? You know the feeling you get?

Over the years, I have seen a few truly incredible performances. They are unforgettable moments when a performance connects with its audience in a very profound way. Friday night, Aydrea (a friend from LA) and Casey and I went and saw RENT, and it was a performance that will stick with me forever.

I've seen the show a few times before, but this performance was special for these reasons:

(1) Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp, who originated the leads in the show in 1996, are back for a few weeks. To see an original cast is awesome. They can deliver the show in a way that is unparalleled.

(2) Tamyra Gray, of American Idol fame, is also in the cast right now. I've been a fan of hers from the beginning.

(3) Aydrea, through a friend of hers, was able to arrange for us to meet with the stage manager after the show. We got backstage and the stage manager asks us, "Who in the cast would you like to meet?" Seriously, people. We got to choose who we wanted to talk to! So, we each rattled off a couple of names of cast members, and he made it happen. It was awesome. To stand at shoot the breeze with these performers was incredible. They were gracious and kind and genuine. Especially my girl Tamyra. And to shake hands with Broadway legends like Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp was a really big deal for me.

(4) The stage manager then took us on a tour of the set and of backstage. He let us roam on the stage wherever we wanted, explained all the changes that take place backstage during a performance, and let us see all the props and costumes that we cared to see. For people who know the show really well, like Casey, Aydrea and I do, it was quite poignant to be that close to the characters. I was able to walk over to the part of the stage where my favorite character, Collins, sings my favorite song, "I'll Cover You", and just stand there and soak it in. It sounds ridiculous, I know, to say that I made a connection with the character, standing there, but it's true. I will always remember getting to stand there alongside Collins and appreciate what his character stands for and the message his songs deliver. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Thank you Aydrea, your friends, and thank you to the stage manager for making Friday night happen. I'm still floating.

Lessons Learned

Last week I attended the annual San Antonio Trauma Symposium presented by the National Trauma Institute (NTI). The NTI is a consortium of both civilian and military facilities. The San Antonio symposium is the largest civilian/military symposium of its kind in the nation. Most of the attendees were military personnel with only a smattering of civilians like myself.

Many of the military personnel at the symposium have served in Iraq during this war, some of them very recently. The experience of sitting next to these soldiers during the lectures was poignant. To hear their stories and see their pictures was distressing.

I am against the conflict in Iraq, that is no secret. But, I confess, I have cavalierly spoken against the war and the enlisted men and women. It is one thing to disagree with the war, it is quite another to look down at those serving in the war. One soldier said (paraphrased) to us during a presentation, "We don't like war. We're only doing our jobs the same way that you're doing yours." Wow. I suppose I looked at soldiers as puppets for this administration, or people who had been duped by words like "freedom", "terrorism", and "democracy". That is not the case, I found at first-hand.

After sitting through slideshows of battlefield trauma victims, blast injuries, living conditions of the soldiers, and pictures of Afghani and Iraqi citizens, I gained a new perspective. I still disagree with the war, but I respect very much the men and women in the military who are serving in the war. It is true, their sacrifices are significant and should not be underestimated.

Hymns for Sale

I'm always in search of the next great CD of hymns for my hymn collection. It's one of my hobbies. Today I found The Harding University Concert Choir's "Most Requested Traditional Hymns". It's terrific, and is available on iTunes. Pepperdine University also has a group called Wave of Grace that has three albums of standard a capella hymns, not on iTunes, but available here. Of course, Acappella has tons of albums available, but their hymns have generally been spiced up a little bit (tempo fluctuations, vocal percussion, etc).



Additionally, The Zoe Group and Hallal also have great worship music, though their music is a little more contemporary. If you're looking for hymns the way you sung them growing up, one of the first two groups I mentioned is your best bet, in my opinion.

Songs of the Church

Wilber came over last night after church and after we ate dinner we sat down at my piano to sing some hymns. It's what all normal couples do, right? He had expressed interest in learning the tenor line to some songs we sing at church. He has a great ear, so only a few times going through these melodies and he had them down perfect. The last song we sang together was Tis Midnight, and on Olive's Brow. Playing the piano and listening to Wilber sing, I had tears running down my face. I finally felt like my two worlds were reconciled: me with Wilber, me with Jesus in the garden. Now, the three of us there together. What peace, God.

Un amour à taire

Wilber and I recently watched this French film, Un amour à taire (A Love To Hide), that was recommended to me by Netflix. It was, at once, beautiful and awful. It is set in Paris during World War II and tells the story of two men, their secret homosexual relationship and their assistance in helping a Jewish woman escape Nazi persecution. It also comments on the abuse, torture, experimentation and execution of homosexuals at the hands of the Gestapo. It was a powerful film that introduced me to an aspect of Nazi persecution that I was never taught about in school. Until this movie, I was ignorant about the treatment of gay men during the war. In history, we were taught about the yellow star that Jews were made to wear, but never about the pink triangle. Unbelievable.

The final scene in the movie is incredible and gives whole new meaning to the power of music. The director did a remarkable job with the score and the setting and the political commentary. If you have some time to lend to learning about historical civil injustices, rent this film.

Midtown Blast

I'm sure you've read or heard about the blast that occurred in midtown yesterday evening. It was truly unlike anything I've ever seen, save the pictures I saw on TV on 09/11. I was on my way to work yesterday and switched trains at Grand Central Station, evidently right before the explosion happened. When I got off the train, two stops later, people were lined in the middle of the street staring at the sky and I looked up and saw the smoke billowing. It was one of those feelings -- "Oh my God, what's happening?" I rushed to work at Bellevue because we are the closest Trauma Center in the area and I knew the wounded would be taken there.

When I arrived, the hospital was already in disaster-mode. Our ICU was being evacuated to make room for incoming victims, the emergency nurses were outside in haz-mat suits to decon the wounded, and everyone was rushing to prepare for whatever was about to roll in. Most of the victims brought to Bellevue were "treat & release" patients. Fortunately, we only had a couple that were critically injured.

The feeling around the hospital last night was very intense. People were more heightened, more emotional, in crisis mode. The surgeons especially were slammed overnight. We kept the news on all night long, listening for updates or alerts. I did not realize how large the blast was until the pictures started coming in online and one of my patients was describing the scene to me. It was awful. I hesitate to say it, but the whole feeling around the event reminded me of how 09/11 looked.

I go to bed this morning a little on edge, realizing that life is so short and no moment is taken for granted. You just never know.

Tahoka, TX

I got to spend four wonderful days last week with the Hays family in Tahoka, Texas. It was really good for my soul to be back in Texas, even if only for a little while. As soon as I landed at DFW, I breathed an audible sigh of relief as I looked out the window onto the Texas sky. There's no place like Texas.

Spending time with Joe, Laura, Sophia, Ira, Katie, Lance, Jack, Lydia, Jackie, Ryan, Isaac, Joey, Joe Francis and Glo was awesome. Really awesome! I laughed a lot, ate home-cooked meals, drank sweet iced tea, sat on the backporch swing, soaked in the hot tub, played the Wii, and enjoyed so much the company of old and new friends. I felt completely relaxed and completely at home, and I owe that to the hospitality and genuineness of everyone there.

My brother Josh and I were talking about my trip before I left, and how it's places like Tahoka that we would prefer to visit on vacation rather than the beach or the mountains or someplace exotic. It's the truth. Let me feast my eyes on the cotton fields, drive the open road, take in the vast night sky, stop at the John Deere dealership, and spend quality time with people I love, and I'll be a happy man.

Five years and counting

Last week marked my five year anniversary of living in New York. Different people will offer their opinions on what anniversary makes you a New Yorker: 2 years, 5 years, 7 years. I'm going with 5 years.

Here are some things I've learned after five years here in the city:

1) God goes before you and with you everywhere. The community I have in New York is unlike most I've encountered before.

2) The Lord works in powerful ways. Ask me five years ago if I would've thought I would be where I am today? No way.

3) Relationships are the key to survival here. The people I work with, go to school with, go to church with, eat with, and share life with are what makes living here wonderful.

4) 34th Street, the subway during rush hour, and Times Square are best to be avoided if at all possible.

5) Absence makes the heart grow fonder and stronger. I miss my family more than I can put into words. But my relationship with them is deeper and more precious than before.

6) The outer boroughs are the place to be. Brooklyn and Queens, you over a sanctuary for which I am so grateful.

7) The last five years would have been so much more difficult without Casey. We celebrate holidays and Tuesdays, laugh a lot, cry sometimes, and generally have a good time just being around each other.

8) Living here is cool. I still get excited when I see the Statue of Liberty at sunset or see the Chrysler building all lit up at night. What a great town.

Thanks to the BK, Central Park, the Daily News, the G train, bodegas, fresh mouths, shopping cart escalators, the Mets, immigrant populations, and so much more for keeping life interesting. Five years together and counting...

Happy Birthday, Mother

Today is my mother's 53rd birthday. For those of you who have not met my mother, Ruthie Jones, you should add it to your list of things to do.

She is love, she is peace, she is grace. She embodies home and family and the things in life that are good and true. She is a mother unlike most who I have met. The heart that she has for her sons is incredible. Her compassion for her fellow man is beyond measure. This is evidenced by her work as a hospital chaplain, and the way she conducts herself with those who are in need. Growing up, her prayer was often for God to "bless those who are sick, sad, or hungry."

The faith I have in God I attribute largely to the way she and my dad raised me. Trust in God, He is faithful to his promises. Never stop loving your brothers. You boys are each other's worlds. These are just some of the things she taught us growing up.

When I was in college, she would host weekly dinner's at her house on Tuesday night's for me, my brothers, and whoever we knew that needed a home-cooked meal. Ruthie Tuesdays, she called them. Her door was always open for anyone who needed anything. That's her way.

Mother, today Josh, Jen, Matthew, Sienna, Wilber and I honor you and celebrate your birthday with you. Break out the cake and the Blue Bell! It's time for a party!

What Does Your Heaven Look Like?

Heaven is totally overrated. It seems boring. Clouds, listening to people play the harp. It should be somewhere you can’t wait to go, like a luxury hotel. Maybe blue skies and soft music were enough to keep people in line in the 17th century, but Heaven has to step it up a bit. They’re basically getting by because they only have to be better than Hell.

-- Joel Stein, Columnist for the Los Angeles Times.

I appreicate this quote, because I've fantasized for many years about what heaven will be like. I'm of the mind that heaven is different things for different people. Eternal bliss may be we walks on the beach for some, rainy days with a good book for others, or for others still, singing the famed everlasting song.

I've given this a lot of thought, and my heaven looks like this, so far:

1) There is a dress code. White tops and khaki bottoms. Now, you can wear those colors in whatever garment you choose, but the dress code must be adhered to. It just looks sharp. Imagine, new people arriving in heaven every day, how impressed they'll be with how nice everyone looks. For my personal eternal ensemble, I'll be in khaki shorts and a white polo. Breezy, yet classic.

2) There will be an everlasting song, but you don't have to sing if you don't want to. The angel band (or, choir) will be singing forever. If you want to step on the risers and sing for awhile, then by all means do so. If you're not feeling like singing for eternity, don't feel obligated. Me, I'll be rotating in to sing at least once a "day".

3) The glory of the Lord will be revealed during the last couple of minutes of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. It's powerful, exciting, and triumphant. On the day I arrive, I'll be escorted into an auditorium where a symphony is playing. The Lord is the conductor and his back is turned to the audience. When the music climaxes toward the end of the piece (with the entrance of the low brass), He will turn around, arms outstretched, revealing His glory. The moment will be accompanied by pageantry unprecedented. Lights, fireworks, flags, cheers and applause. Afterwards, there will be appetizers, coffee and dessert served in the lobby.

What about you? Have you thought about it? What does your heaven look like?

"A Time To Embrace"

I recently finished reading William Stacy Johnson's A Time To Embrace: Same-Gender Relationships in Religion, Law, and Politics. I was contemplating reviewing the book here on this blog, but my friend Jen did a beautiful review in her own blog here, much more eloquent than I could do. Please, check out her review and please, read this book. It is very important.

Taylor, The Latte Boy

This is cute.

Only in New York

Last night, Wilber and I were out to dinner at this little sidewalk cafe not far from my apartment. All of a sudden, a blood-curdling scream comes from this woman across the street. This scream was such that I jumped up from my table and people inside the rest came running out to see what was wrong with this woman.

Turns out, she was walking her dog and passed this guy walking his dog and the two dogs got into it a little bit. They had somehow locked jaws. This woman was hysterical. "Get him off! Oh my God! Get him off! You're going to have to pay for this! You'll have to pay for this!"

The guy walking his dog was an older gentleman, so now he's all shook-up on account of this young woman's screaming. Now, add the furious woman who lives in the apartment building in front of where all of this is taking place. She comes out and starts yelling (in her best native-Brooklyn speak) at the young woman for making such a scene and drawing people out of their homes with her hysterics. The young woman proceeds to call 911 to report the whole situation. Not really sure what she's going to report, but she calls nonetheless. In two minutes time, NYPD shows up followed by an unmarked police car which speeds up to the scene, parks in the middle of the intersection, and the two cops bolt out of the car.

Wait, it gets better. Then the paramedics show up. Not kidding. The ambulance arrives and they hop out so now we have: the young woman in hysterics, the Brooklynite woman yelling at her, the older gentleman shaking his head, 4 cops, 2 paramedics, and street corners full of bystanders. It was really quite the scene.

After everyone collected themselves and the unmarked police car sped away squealing its tires (not kidding), the girl at the table to Wilber and me leans over and says, "I don't what the big deal is. Besides, that woman's dog probably said something bitchy to the other dog anyway." Only in New York, my friends, only in New York.

My Music

Next to God, music is the thing that is nearest to me at all times in my life. I've got a song in my head all day, everyday, from morn til night. It's part of what makes me me. A co-worker once asked me, "Can't you ever stop singing?" The answer to that is no. The ceasing of my singing will signal my passing.

Music is my therapy. It's the way I decompress, veg out, connect to God, connect to other people or events. Whenever I return home from someplace I've been, from a particular experience, I continue to relate to said experience via the music associated with it. It helps me not go into withdrawal for the people or emotions that surrounded the experience.

The last two weeks I was in Virginia, I drove around in my dad's 3/4 ton extended-cab long-bed 4x4 pickup. It was freakin' awesome. A man's vehicle, no doubt. The songs I played continuously, that I'm playing as we speak, are Jars of Clay's "Redemption Songs" and "I Need You" by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. They are the songs that connect me to my dad and to my brothers (who were in the pickup with me).

What's your method of connecting to past experiences? If it's music, feel free to share a few of the songs you've turned to.

The Last Two Weeks

I arrived back in New York last night after having been away for a couple of weeks in northern Virginia with my family.

Long story short: My dad has bacterial endocarditis. The particular bacteria causing his infection has only been documented twice before in medical literature. His doctors are baffled by this bug and where Daddy picked it up. The infection caused an aneurysm in his brain which leaked and had to be repaired. His aortic valve and part of the heart muscle itself also had to be replaced. Nasty infection, really. After two surgeries, less than a week apart, he is recovering remarkably with no neurologic deficits. He'll be on IV antibiotics for the next couple of months at home, but that's okay. I'm grateful that he's on this side of those operations. I love you, Daddy.

My entire family flew in to be with my dad during these last two weeks. It was beyond wonderful to spend time with them, especially Josh and Matthew. I miss my brothers. We're already making plans to move back nearer each other.

Fairfax Church of Christ, where my dad and Sharon attend, was incredible in their support of my dad and the rest of the Joneses. They spent the nights in the ICU waiting room, just to be on hand for us. They brought meals to wherever we were. They donated an entire house to my family so that we could move in for as long as we needed and not have to worry about hotel expenses. They took off work to take care of us. It was really moving to seem them serve, as one body. I will cherish their relationship to my family.

My own church family at CCfB was wonderful in their support. Countless emails and text messages reminded me that I was not alone and that our family was covered in prayer. I felt that. Thank you Father for the people in our lives who give of themselves and who let us know they care. May I extend that same spirit of service to others.

2007 AIDS Walk New York

May 20, 2007 is the date for this year's AIDS Walk New York in Central Park. I will be walking as a part of the Christ's Church for Brooklyn (CCfB) team. We're participating in this event as one of our 'hands & feet' projects, by being Christ's hands and feet through service to our neighbors.

I will be walking in support and memory of many patients of mine who have succumbed to AIDS since I began my nursing career. I also will walk to support Gay Men's Health Crisis and the work that they do here in the city.

If you would like some more information about the walk, or if you care to make a dontation, check out this link: https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=216438&lis=0&kntae216438=6232814FB3B84A6587F4BFC04B55B94B&supId=172287208

I've got the joy joy joy joy

I woke up this morning feeling joyful, just like that song I used to sing in Sunday school. This past weekend was awesome and served as a retreat for me. The feeling I have today is the same one I have after I've come back from a church retreat or a weekend away: refreshed and joyful.

Friday, I got to hang out with Joe and Laura and Ira, and their company is invaluable. Saturday was Ira's birthday and we had a rockin' good time at his party. Yesterday was the MS walk and I got to spend the entire day with friends from church while we walked, worshiped, and then had dinner together. And through it all, the skies were blue and the sun was shining, and I didn't have to wear a coat! I can't ask for much more than that. Right now, I'm walking on sunshine, ohohoh.

Virginia Tech

The thing that bothers me the post about the incident at Virginia Tech earlier in the week are the headlines in the newspapers: Madman, Face of Evil, Psycho Killer and the like. My initial thought on seeing this student's picture in the newspaper was What must have happened to him? What did he suffer through? Was it mental illness untreated? What was his life like that got him to the point of murder?

I'm not of the mind that anyone is evil. We are all children of God, and any one of us is capable of despicable action. While I'm floored by what happened and grieve with the victims' families, I also grieve at the loss of the shooter's life and wonder what, if anything, could have been said to him or demonstrated to him that would have kept him from resorting to such outrageous action.

Grieving The Loss

More often than not, our lives are not what we expected them to be, when we, as kids, imagined ourselves grown-up. Every person, at some point, must grieve the loss of the life they imagined for themself. This is what I'm going through right now.

The life that I have now is not what I dreamt it would be like. When I was a younger, I dreamt I would graduate from Harding University, be married with a wife and children, living somewhere in Texas, serving as a worship leader for a large church, living comfortably in a house on some land, my family and I being pillars of the church. Things are the things I wanted for myself. Being gay, living in New York, having no children, working as a nurse, these things were never part of my dream.

I'm mourning now the loss of my dream. It will never come true, and I understand that and it's a better thing in the end, as I'm living more true to myself. God has brought me to where I am and I trust Him. But that doesn't mean that it still doesn't sting sometimes. It stung a little more than usual this past week when I went to go visit by older brother Josh and his family in Searcy. In many ways, he has the life that I wanted. That sucks a little bit, for me.

People who do not take the time to mourn the loss of their dream life, dream job, dream spouse, etc., will find disappointment over and over again as reality does not match their dream. The important thing is that I need to meet God where He is and follow His lead.

Meredith Vieira

I really, really like Meredith Vieira. I suppose it's one of my OGTs. I used to watch The View so I could hang out with Meredith during "Hot Topics". She's my favorite! So it wasn't that surprising when I dreamt about her a couple of nights ago.

In my dream, she and I ran into each other at the ABC Studios Christmas Party. I don't know why either one of us was there, or why the party was being held in March, or why we weren't at the NBC Christmas party, but such was the case. So I see her come into the lobby (the party was in a swanky hotel) and I immediately go over to her and start the "I'm your biggest fan...I love you on the Today show...I've been watching you for years" speech. She was so gracious and gave me a big hug and told me how kind I was and how glad she was to meet me. She also looked really fantastic, in this floor-length, dark green, long-sleeved dress. I was beaming, in my dream. I woke up excited to have met her, and can only hope that someday I will actually meet her. I think she's lovely and if she and I ever meet in person, I'll take a picture and post it here. If you're lucky.

Everett Joshua Jones

Please meet my new nephew, Everett Joshua Jones, born this morning at 3:46am. Jen is doing great, and it seems that Campbell and Warner approve of their new little brother. How proud I am to be an uncle, again, and to welcome another Jones boy into this world!!

Sign of the Times

Each week, Sports Illustrated has a little blurb called "Sign of the Apocalypse" that tells about something absurd, embarrassing, etc. that happened in sports news in the previous week, indicating that the world is, in fact, as bad as it seems. It's meant to be funny. Perhaps you've seen it.

Today, I offer you my own sign of the apocalypse or Sign of the Times. Something I read about in today's Wall Street Journal:

Remember how, when you were a kid and you lost a tooth, the tooth fairy came to visit? Perhaps she left a coin to prove that she had come to visit in the night and likewise to illustrate the point that losing a tooth isn't quite so traumatic...you can make a profit in the end. Usually, at my house, she left a quarter. And not every time, either.

According to a recent survey by eBeanstalk.com, the average per tooth payment nowadays is $2.64. One father said his son gets $5 for his first lost tooth and $3 for every lost tooth thereafter. Some kids pocket $10 or more per tooth. Inflation now affects tooth fairy money? You've got to be kidding me.

I'm not old, by any means. But I feel like saying, "Kids these days...they don't know how easy they've got it."

Two Weeks movie

Last night I went and saw this new film Two Weeks. I hadn't seen it advertised on TV, just happened to see it mentioned in a magazine this week. What a beautiful movie. It tells the story (this much you get from the trailer; I'm not giving anything away here) of a woman who is dying of ovarian cancer, and her four grown children who come home to be with her during her last two weeks of life.

I like this movie because it is not cheesy or sappy, and the dying process isn't glamorized. It isn't full of religious or spiritual hope. It is very true to life, though. The folks who made this movie did a wonderful job with their portrayal of someone actively dying of cancer. Clearly they did their research. It's not a pretty movie nor is it a feel-good movie. It is less Steel Magnolias and more Wit. It's worth seeing, but maybe when you're feeling subject to a powerful emotional response.

New house

Thanks be to God, I found a great apartment last night and was able to rent it right there on the spot. I'll be sharing the place with two other guys, so I look forward to the community. The rent is great, the area is great, and I'll have a place where I am welcome and so are those who are close to me. I'll be out of my current place next week.

Thank you for comments, prayers, and words of support. You are incredible.

Me tengo que mudar de casa

I had an interesting conversation with my landlady yesterday, who is also a friend of mine. She's a Christian, so am I, so we share that in common. She had left a note inside my apartment yesterday morning asking me to stop by and see her when I got a chance, so I went directly. I had somethings I wanted to talk to her about as well, as she had been helped herself into the apartment at 5am yesterday morning, turned on the hall light, woke me up, and made a comment about how the electricity bill was higher than it should be on account of me and my space heater. Then she walked back out. Needless to say, I was irked.

A little background info: Wilber stays over sometimes at my apartment. It doesn't mean that we're "up to no good" or engaging in debauchery. It's just that he lives in Queens, I in Brooklyn, and sometimes it's more convenient to stay over than to make the hour plus commute back home on the subway late at night.

She told me that she has rules for the apartment and one of them is that "significant others" are not allowed to spend the night. She said it has been the rules for all the previous tenants and it applies to me as well. Wilber is not allowed to stay the night. I calmly explained to her that I am an adult, capable of making my own decisions, paying my rent on time, and for her to interfere with that part of my life seems unfair. I already have a mother who takes does her job very well. I don't need another one.

I explained that I'm a Christian and make my daily decisions as such and do not believe that Wilber's staying over dishonors God. She disagrees. She has a moral objection to my homosexual orientation and my relationship. She told me that if I am not willing to abide by her rules for the apartment, then I am "at will to go live somewhere else." In other words, if I want to keep seeing Wilber and have him over in my home, then I best be on my way.

I was 1) ticked off 2) insulted 3) hurt 4) annoyed 5) ticked off again. This was the cylce of my emotions yesterday. I told her kindly, calmly, that I would likely be searching for another place to live, as her rules seemed unfair. I am not her child, I am her tenant.

I was torn up yesterday. There's this voice in my head that says "This is God telling you to wakeup, that your relationship with Wilber is not okay with Him." I hate this voice, God, how I hate it. It haunts me and eats at me and at times attempts to destroy me. It says, "Dig in deeper, hold on stronger, you can overcome anything..." It's the voice of twisted Christianity telling me I'm impure and unwhole and an abomination. I blame it on the Church, on Satan, on my own insecurities in my faith. It's wrong. It does not come from God.

The other voice says, this apartment was a blessing while it lasted, but now it's time to move on in life. Change of venue. Let's go with grace, Nate.

On my knees last night, the tears began to come and I realized the thing that hurt the most from my conversation with my landlady was the implication that her Christianity is better than mine, that she has the right answers, that she speaks as the moral authority in my life. I am angered by her insinuation that I am not the Christian I ought to be, that my beliefs are tainted, that my faith is something less than hers. I am frustrated by her judgement, coming from a sister in Christ.

So, I'll be looking for a new place to live now. Someplace where I am welcome and Wilber is welcome and hopefully, the owner/super won't come vist before 8am. I appreciate prayers.

Amazing Grace

This coming Friday, February 23, marks the release of the highly anticipated movie Amazing Grace. I saw the trailer for this movie a couple of months ago and promised right then that I would see the movie. The trailer had me in tears on account of the powerful music. Pipes and drums are among the most beautiful, regal, yet simple expressions of music. I'm very much looking forward to seeing it this weekend.

Coupled with the release of the movie is a campaign entitled The Amazing Change. The purpose of this campaign, in short, is to abolish modern-day slavery. Check out the website. Sign the petition. Get involved.

More about the movie and the campaign in the days to come.

Say It With A Mix-Tape

This past Wednesday was mine and Wilber's four-month anniversary. It also coincided with Valentine's Day, so a gift was in order. What is the appropriate gift for the four-month anniversary? Paper? Wood? A mix-tape? Ah, yes. That's the one.

I like mix-taps a whole lot. Folks these days have the playlist equivalent, but I like the idea of the tape/CD itself. Something tangible. I also am keenly aware of music and its capacity to evoke emotion and I like to share that with others. So, I made Wilber a mix-tape. Cheesy, a bit. But very sweet. Here's a few of the songs I included:

• A Love That Will Never Grow Old (Emmylou Harris)
• All I Ask Of You (Phantom of the Opera)
• Annie's Song (John Denver)
• Let It Be Me (Willie Nelson)
• Somewhere (West Side Story)

So how about you? Have you ever given or received a mix-tape? What was on it? Or what's on your favorite playlist, if pre-ipod music technology escaped you?

Transparency

I'm reading a new book right now. It's a Christian book. This is the first book I've ever read by this particular author. Her work comes highly recommended by another author that I like, so I decided to give her stuff a try.

The characteristic that strikes me most about this author is her transparency. She's a Christian, first. However, her writing style is unlike most contemporary Christian authors. She drops the f-bomb a lot, openly resents (though strives to love and forgive) the Bush White House, speaks about how at times she is so angry and confused with her son that she wants to hurt him, and writes candidly about her life before she was clean and sober.

This stuff was a distraction for me, initially. How very un-Christlike of her to say those words, think those thoughts. Then the Lord checked my attitude on the 3 train, coming home from school this morning. Nate, she's real, she's genuine, she says and does the same things you do. Only she doesn't hide it. She is transparent in her life.

I try to be transparent, but often am not.

• When I read my Christian books on the train, I secretly feel holy as I look around at what others are reading. How very phariseic of me.
• When I see people on the street, I judge them by the color of their skin. I don't want to, and I resent the society I grew up in that still favors segregation, despite what we say.
• When I pray, I use nice words and follow formulas. God desires a genuine heart in prayer, no matter how ugly, broken, angry, or reverent I am feeling.
• I give away money to people so they will like me.

God desires transparency in all things, I'm learning. I am transparent with my family because they are the people I love most in the world, and sharing together keeps us all humble. Christ's Church for Brooklyn is transparent. We bare all to each other, and it's ugly and beautiful.

God, that we would all be transparent in our lives. Withholding shame, judgement, and pretense. That we would present ourselves to You and to one another as we ought. Forgive us when we do not.

Blue Like Jazz

I've recently finished reading Blue Like Jazz again. This is one of my favorite books, and one that is necessary for me to re-read every few months. It is full of things that are true. Each time I finish reading the book, I feel close to Don Miller (the author). I want to meet him somewhere for coffee. I imagine us having a lot to talk about, stories to compare. We would laugh some and probably cry together, too, as we ponder the depths of God's love. He's on my list of people I want to meet someday.

I take away something different with each read of the book. The idea that struck me this time is worth sharing here.

When I wake up each morning, I must die to myself.

This is the way to serve, to love, to follow Christ. It's not my show, it's someone else's.

Miller writes:

I was in San Francisco recently staying at this bed and breakfast place for people who are in the city to do ministry. It was a small house, but there were
probably fifteen people living there at the time. The guy who ran the place,
Bill, was always making meals or cleaning up after us, and I took note of his
incredible patience and kindness. I noticed that not all of us did our dishes
after a meal, and very few people thanked him for cooking. One morning, before
anybody woke up, Bill and I were drinking coffee at the dining room table. I
told him I lived with five guys and that it was very difficult for me because I
liked my space and I needed my privacy. I asked him how he kept such a good
attitude all of the time with so many people abusing his kindness. Bill set down
his coffee and looked me in the eye. "Don," he said. "If we are not willing to
wake up in the morning and die to ourselves, perhaps we should ask ourselves
whether or not we are really following Jesus."

This guy, Bill, has got it right on.

Be Still and Know

I'm not very good and being still and just letting life happen. I'm the type that's always in search of the next dream, the next challenge, the next distraction. I have ideas for why this is true about myself, but I won't divulge them here.

Becoming a nurse, moving to NYC, moving to Mexico, starting grad school, dropping out of grad school, going to medical school........ see a pattern? I don't regret any of the aforementioned and believe that each of them happened with a purpose, but my methodology may leave something to be desired.

In preparation for the MCAT in April, I've had some serious anxieties about the material that's required of me, largely due to the fact that I have not yet finished my pre-med requirements. On the advice of some friends of mine who are in their residencies, I could sit for the MCAT without having actually finished the courses that teach the material that will be covered on the exam. Sounds like a plan, I thought. Let's get the ball rolling. Get a prep course, sit for the exam, apply to medical school, get accepted, start medical school ASAP to get out ASAP and get on with my life ASAP. But why? Why is this country so obsessed with the end result? Why do we value forward progress above contentment? Why is waiting a year considered wasting a year?

After a lot of internal dialogue, prayer, and conversations with those closest to me, I think I've decided to slow it down a bit and do all of this at a more relaxed pace. It just make sense. There's no rush. I'm embarking on a serious journey, and it necessitates careful thought and adequate preparation on all fronts. Learning, absorbing, and applying new knowledge takes time. More time than the 12 weeks I was allowing myself. Additionally, I'm in a new relationship that needs me to be there, and asking him for something less was selfish, regardless of his willingness to sacrifice.

A dear friend prayed for me at church a few weeks ago, that my current study/class schedule would be somehow re-arranged to allow me to be at church each week. I have thought of that prayer often the last few weeks, and wondered if that's what's going on here. Through her prayer, God is opening my eyes and telling me to be still and know.

The words and the melody are both simple. I daresay that was not an accident.

Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am God

April 7, 2007

It's for real now, this MCAT thing. I have to admit that having an actual test date (see the subject line) is at the same time motivating, anxiety-producing, and exciting. This step in my life has been many years in the making and I'm looking forward to what lies beyond the exam. Surrounded by God, my family, my Wilber, and my friends, here goes!

At class the other day, one of the other students asked me how I planned to respond to the question, "Why do you want to be a doctor instead of a nurse." I've given this question a lot of thought, but am still working on the perfect answer ( I suppose I have a few months). Things that come to mind are: power to try and bring about change, work toward alleviation of healthcare disparties in the US and globally, mission work, always seeking the next challenge. I've been told to steer away from "I've always wanted to be a doctor" and "When ________ died in my family, it made me realize..."

I've never been one to walk alone, and I don't plan to start right now. So, I open the above question up to you. What would you say? What have you said when asked about switching careers, taking on new challenges, moving to new places?