Searching for a New Apartment - Again

There's something that I have learned very recently (about 11 months ago): Looking for a new place to live is a blessing.

It reminds us of the impermanence of life. 

It reminds me that, in the most real sense possible, I don't really have a home here (not yet, at least). No place will ever give me rest - true rest - rest for my soul.

Transience is life.

Today I spent over an hour driving the streets of Saint Charles, looking for apartments for rent. The booty: three places. That's it. I drove every street in the area where we want to move to, I called all three places, and left three voice messages.

Today I find myself in an interesting situation: Time is short to find a new place. Prospects in our desired location are slim. So now what? Ah! The answer is so simple...

Don't worry. 


I'll let you know how I do, continuing to relish existence in the void of not knowing where I'll be living in six weeks. Update coming soon...

Resurrection Power

I'm not getting spiritual on anybody here. I believe that I will be resurrected one day. What!?! You may say. Well, here's the deal: if we're here for 70 or so years and we're gone, and that's totally it, then all of life is a sham. Seventy years is nothing compared with not living - not even existing - for an infinite number of days in the future.

Wow. That feels messed up to think about. Yeah, think about it for a minute. Have you ever done that? I do it too often probably. I think about what it would be like to not exist. To not be.

I have to believe in resurrection because it's the only way for me to not be depressed about eminent death. It knocks at the door for us all and there seems to be no way to stop it. I recently tweeted out a couple things regarding life and death - actually, more about how to live... (You have to read the bottom one first.)

So I asked myself the same questions. Here's what I've decided:

1. Yep, I'd do a few things differently.

Here's what I *would* do:

• Buy that really sweet acoustic guitar I've always wanted but never thought I could afford.
• Buy a vintage tube amp and jam on it. Cranked.
• Write music. A lot. Then I'd record it.
• Go on a trip to somewhere cool with my family.
• Buy an iPhone.
• Listen to music constantly.
• Make my wife take off a couple weeks of work.
• Finally get that Last Will and Testament written up :)
• Take lots of pictures.
• Eat a lots of pizza.
• Go for a run or hike or something.
• Say goodbye. Probably have a party.
• Be really scared.
• Read the Bible.
• Share with people about what I think living is all about.
• Blog about what it's like to know exactly when you're going to die.

And here's what I *wouldn't* do:

• Waste my time watching movies or TV shows (you know deep down it's just a waste of time)
• Put off saying sorry.
• Get upset at my boy for stupid stuff.
• Worry about backing up hard drives.
• Record other peoples' music (sorry currently scheduled friends)
• Teach guitar lessons (sorry students! you know I love ya!)
• Try to meet the grim reaper early.
• Check my Facebook wall.
• Exercise rigorously.

And so, I hope to be resurrected one day. Why? Because I don't want to die. And I have to hope - because the alternative is terrifying.

Here you have it. The resurrected blog. About stuff that I think matters. Because talking about anything else is just like vegging out in front of the box. Get out. Do something. Be intentional. Stop reading my blog.

More posts coming soon, as I see fit.

You can follow me on Twitter, too: @jaymathesmusic

We're Here to Help

I met with a friend today whom I hadn't seen in months - probably close to four. His wife had a baby about eight weeks ago, and 12 weeks ago, my wife had a baby, and 16 weeks ago, my family moved a half hour away from where we used to live. It makes spending time with former friends difficult and many times, just plain unmanageable. But not today.

So his wife just had a baby; and, just like me, he's a stay-at-home dad (whatever that means). It's not the easiest road to travel, and now my friend and I can empathize with each other and those dads around the country who stay at home during the day and make less money that their wives.

We concluded our time together, our babies in hand, by me saying a few words of encouragement and praying for him. The main point I wanted to drive home was that we'd always be available to him and his wife if they needed to talk, bounce ideas off of us, hang out, pray with or for them, or otherwise agonize together as parents.

Megan and I want to be known as doers of friendship, not just lip service friends. We want you to know that if there is anything we can do for *you*, we're here to help.

What All Great Music Does

Life is never what we expect.

Curve balls are thrown. Your dad gets cancer. You don't end up with the career you always envisioned. Your almost 30 and still single. You feel pressured to achieve the unachievable - the unidentifiably unachievable.

This is what life is.

Life is messy. Life is full of disappointments. Life is imperfect. Broken. Difficult. Desperate.

But great music can help.

There is one thing that all great songs have in common: they fill us with a sense of longing for a perfect, eternal future. They remind us that a glorious future is possible. They even contain within them a glimmer of that reality, and for a few, brief moments, we can be there. In that moment. At peace.

Music helps me to continue living.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately: what does it mean to be human? I think it means exactly what I've already described about the human experience: you feel disappointment and long for unattainable fulfillment. Or is it unattainable?

Many of my friends call me spiritual. Few call me religious.

I'd say if ever there were a need to believe in God it would be because we humans know that this unquenchable longing can not be satisfied by what we do, have, or accomplish. History has shown us that our deepest human desires can't be fulfilled by our own achievement. Time and again people "at the top" are the hardest to fall. They seemingly have everything and yet, they lose it all - and eventually, die like the rest of us. Have your actions, relationships, or possessions brought you perfect fulfillment yet? I'm guessing not.

We have to believe God exists. Without Him, we are utterly without hope of having our longings fulfilled. We already know we can't make it happen ourselves.

And I'd say that if ever there were a reason to believe that God can actually do it - can actually placate my (and your!) frenzied hunger - its because when I listen to great music - in that oh so small, fleeting moment, that's exactly what actually happens. I feel redeemed.

God exists because an unquenchable longing exists in our hearts that can't be satisfied by human activity - and we have to believe that this longing can be satisfied by something out of this world. And God is in fact able to do it because he gives us pieces of that satiety through music.

Do I think there's more to the story? Oh yeah. By grace, I'm trying to learn more of it every day.