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.