Reel Images of Immigration (a film guide)

One of the most divisive issues today (at least on the level of rhetoric) seems to be immigration reform.  Regardless, it's certainly one of the largest (if not the largest) civil rights issues facing us in the United States.  Sojourners sent me an email this morning with a discussion guide about four different movies about immigration, which you can download here.

I've only seen one of the movies, The Visitor, which I enjoyed a lot.  It was a powerful, moving film that wasn't preachy, but used some immigrant characters as the catalyst in a story about a man dealing with the loss of his wife.  It has great acting and excellent writing.  In fact, I suggested that you watch this movie back when I first saw it.

The second film is called Made in L.A. and is a documentary about some sweatshop laborers who come to realize that they are being exploited and successfully sue the clothing company that is mistreating them.  I haven't seen this one, but the reviews are quite good.  Here's the trailer:


The third movie is called Dying to Live and also appears to be a documentary, with a broader look at the border in general and lots of interviews with a diverse group of people.

The last film is a third documentary, Farmingville.  After the attempted murder of two Mexican day laborers, in Farmingville, New York, two film makers move to town for a year to try to get the points of view of all the different people involved.  Sounds interesting. 

So, there it is.  The discussion guide is designed to help create a conversation about these movies, what this says about our society and the role of Christians in this difficult question.  If you've seen any of these movies drop me a note, I'd love to know what you thought of them.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

A while back I did a phone interview with Jason Coker at Christian Audio. You can download the interview for free, and then listen to me answer Jason's questions while you are jogging. Or, for those of you who have already had knee replacements, while you are surfing the internet.

What's that you say?  You want to spend money at Christian Audio as a way of thanking them for this excellent interview?  Then I would suggest that you buy the spectacular audio book to which I have linked at the end of this paragraph, with "Voice Acting" by the author himself.  It is a treat wrapped in an enigma.

New Dawn Treader trailer...

I am going to go see this movie. But I ain't going to see it in 3D. The last thing I need is a 3 foot tall mouse jutting out of the screen and in my face.

At last someone is taking responsibility to protect us from robots

As you know, I never advertise here on BHR, but I do occasionally talk about products I really believe in. That's the case with Old Glory Insurance. Please watch the important commercial below. And special thanks to my friend Christian, who pointed this out to me:

Eavesdropping with Matt (Episode Forty-Six: Social Engagements at the Social Security Office)

Dedicated to the old man sitting behind me for an hour at the Social Security Administration Office today.

OLD MAN: I don't know what makes them think we can sit here and wait all day, like we don't have anything better to do.

(Pause.)

Actually, I can do that.  I don't have anything better to do.  I'm retired.

Because you demanded it! My daughter A invents Spanish songs on my voicemail.

I've gotten about three of these voicemail messages today. Here's the most recent one:

(Click to play. You will probably want to do it again and again.) If you speak Spanish at all, the enjoyable hidden message will brighten your day I'm sure.

It's like a passion play, but with Star Wars

I would follow this play around through the streets of New York City for three days. Yes, I would.

A Year Old Today!

A year ago today we held our sweet little baby in our arms for the first time!  I can't believe she's a year old. She can walk (sort of) and talk (just yesterday she told me that a chicken says 'moo').

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY M!  We love you.  You are a gift from the Lord.

Coffee shops are for weaklings without original thoughts

I've been working hard to finish up my second book, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD CHRISTIANS.

Several of my friends have complained to me lately that THEIR friends keep asking if I spend a lot of time writing in coffee shops.  This is, of course, one of the stereotypical pictures of the writer.  Another would be me, smoking a cigarette over a typewriter while drinking copious amounts of booze.  But this is not how I work, no!  Coffee shops... too much coffee!  And I can't control the music that is being played which is distracting!  And I can't stop eavesdropping on the people around me!

Behold, my secret.  When writing I prefer a two person hammock, preferably brown with a taupe stand.  If a stand is unavailable it is acceptable to hang the hammock between two trees (12 to 15 feet apart, maple).  Shade is necessary to save on laptop battery power.  The pillow should be folded in half to give superior lifting ability.  Also, preferably to be delivered by someone else, along with occasional snacks.  Or meals.  Or just a quick visit to say, "I was thinking about how hard it is to be a writer and how gifted you are and how you are probably wishing you had a pack of cigarettes right now, and I just wanted to say I am proud of you and keep working because you are going to win a Pulitzer I bet or an Oscar or whatever prize it is that they give you authors."

But now it is night and I have moved in to the couch.  Imagine a similar picture, but with a couch and less flora.  That is what it looks like now. 

And how is the book coming along?  Why just fine.  Now bring me some macadamia nuts.


P.S. Don't smoke cigarettes.  It is bad for you and the people around you.  And 90% of hammock related deaths happen because of smoking in hammocks.

This is amazing

Here's a video of Captain Brian Bews ejecting from his jet less than a second before it hits the ground.  He stayed in the jet to make sure it wouldn't crash into any civilians or spectators.  Reports say he is well, but went to the hospital with injuries after hitting the ground (his parachute was only partially opened because of how late he ejected).

Weep Not, O Faithful Readers, For Behold! I Bring You a Blog Post of Unexpected Fabulousity!

When you go as long without blogging as I have just done, everyone wonders for a little while if you're going to have to give the blog CPR.  Could it be that the blogger has lost all interest in what he blogs about?  Is he about to change the name of the blog and then bring in a bunch of other writers to put up posts and then quietly slink away?  Of course, all the enemies of this blog have been so pleased that it has been so long since I posted that they have been trumpeting all over the internet, THE BURNING HEARTS REVOLUTION IS DEAD!

But that is not so.  Of course.  Because, as I've already proven, I will continue to blog long after the fad is gone and it becomes a tool relegated to old men.  Ahem.  Like now.  Also... I have auto-scheduled a blog post for the year 2057, so if it ever appears that the blog is discontinued you will know that there is one more post coming in the far flung future.  I can say without reservation that it is the funniest, most poignant, most deeply moving piece I have ever written.  It's worth the wait.  Sometimes when I wake in the middle of the night I get up and warm a glass of milk and sit and read it over and over until the warm satisfied glow that comes after all the tears and the laughter and the reminder of halcyon days gone by washes over me, and then I curl up around the computer and sleep like a baby kitten in a pane of sunlight.  It is that good.

In other news, instead of doing the traditional blogger apology paragraph where I tell you "boo hoo I love you my dear audience and I will never leave you again" I thought I would take the more honest route of saying that I hate you all, you magnificent horrible whiners.  And rather than giving you one shred of actual clue as to why I've not been blogging, I thought I would put a poll up on the sidebar where you can decide for yourself.  So stop sending me your little notes all the time saying "Are you all right, Matt" and "We're concerned for you because you usually are too much of a narcissist to keep from blogging for more than a day or two."  So be sure to take the poll, and in the comments feel free to leave an impressive list of topics you would like to see me address in future blog posts. 

That is all.  You may now return to the inferior blogs you have been filling your life with since I have left you hanging. 

Sincerely,

The Revolutionist

Fireworks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They are exciting.

My kids are in a swim club.  Which means I'm in a club of sorts, too.  I never knew this, but being in swim club as a child means that in addition to practice and the swim fees and swim meets there's this thing called "Volunteer Hours."  You have to volunteer a certain amount or you get fined.  It's something like 800 hours, or you can buy your way out for forty bucks an hour.  Needless to say, Krista and I have chosen a life of indentured servitude to the Swim Team in exchange for which my children will grow up to have excellent back strokes and will often think, I imagine, while swimming in the Olympics, Thanks be to my parents for their hard work and dedication in doing all those volunteer hours. Without them I could have never become the best swimmer in the entire world.

This month's volunteer hours involved working at a Fireworks Stand in preparation for the 4th of July.  Now, you have to understand that we live in Washington, where fireworks are legal, and people come from several states away to buy them.  We had customers from as far away as California.  You could recognize them because of their deep tans shining out among the pasty white Oregonians and Washingtonians, and the way they would whisper, "Hey man, you got any, you know, fireworks?"

I grew up in California, so I know what it's like to live in a land where fire is illegal.  It's true.  Boy scouts in California have to learn to rub two sticks together until water comes out of them.  And fireworks are an unheard of and monstrously evil substance that can only be used in the most carefully constructed circumstance, and even the professionals are encouraged only to launch fireworks over bays of water.


In a strange piece of Washingtonian legislature, bottle rockets are illegal in Washington.  Every third customer asked me for bottle rockets, and I would tell them, "Those are illegal." One customer asked why.  I told him that they were too dangerous (this seemed like a safe answer).  He picked up a 500 gram mortar shell which had the dire warning SHOOTS FLAMING BALLS LIGHT ON GROUND AND STEP AWAY DO NOT HOLD IN HAND NO SPECTATORS WITHIN 100 FEET and asked, "Is this one dangerous?"  I assured him it was perfectly safe if one followed the directions and correctly built the bomb shelter in the way laid out in the instructions. 

Another interesting moment was when a customer asked me if our fireworks were made in America.  Which of course, no, they aren't.  Because the Chinese firework factories still have not taught us their secrets.  That is to say, we haven't figured out how to pay someone less than minimum wage to pour gunpowder into tiny packets with one's bare hands while an assembly line grumbles and sparks nearby.  This creates for interesting ironies when I pick up a firework named AMERICA RISING! to celebrate the U.S. of A and realize that it is made in China.

Perhaps the most frightening moment came when a man walked into our tent full of TNT, his hair and eyes equally wild, looked around, held up his unlit cigarette and asked, "Hey, man, you got a light?"  My eyes immediately darted to the two tiny fire extinguishers by the tent flap door which, I imagined, would not be particularly useful if a table full of fireworks caught on fire.  I did not particularly want my obituary to read, "HE TRIED TO PUT OUT A FLAMING TENT FULL OF FIREWORKS WITH AN EXTINGUISHER."  On the other hand, I thought that a fire extinguisher probably could be used to knock out a crazy person.  I cleared my throat and explained to the crazy gentleman that we were, in fact, standing in a tent full of fireworks and that even if we had a light (and we didn't) that we wouldn't give it to him and that although we had an inexplicably small sign saying NO SMOKING we meant it very, very sincerely, as if our lives depended on it (which they did).  He nodded and then walked around the tent looking at fireworks.  One of my co-volunteers gave me a look which said something like, I want to live to volunteer at next month's swim meet, please don't let him kill us with his smoking.  So I followed the crazy man around until he left.

On the 4th I realized that risking my life to provide our neighborhood and many others with the firepower necessary to celebrate the birth of our nation was worth every moment.  It wasn't just when my brother-in-law and I lit screaming space eye-balls that flew into the crowd of spectators, or the way that parachute laden firecrackers landed on our neighbor's roof.  It was the whole smoke-clouded spectacle of watching our Tongan neighbors light twenty-seven professional grade fireworks at once, aimed right over our roof, and the jolly comraderie as we all packed our folding chairs into the street to watch a show bigger and brighter and more fun than all the professional shows I've ever been to.  And meanwhile, good friends and family eating too much good food and all of us enjoying not just America, where State rights allow Washington to celebrate individual freedoms like buying our own fireworks, and waving around insanely long sparklers and then later entire packs of sparklers in each hand, just trying to use them up, and my brother-in-law and I are getting careless and lighting fireworks in our hands and tossing them nonchalantly before they pop and the neighbors are starting to tie all the fuses of their fireworks together because we're running out of time to celebrate, because midnight is on the way and then it will be the 5th of July and we'll all crawl into our beds and listen to the last few delayed and muffled celebratory explosions in the distance, and then a satiated and jolly neighborhood slips into contented sleep and in the morning we all wake up and say, next year it will be even better, why would we ever go to another big fireworks show again when we could visit those white tents and create something beautiful right here on our own street and above our own home?


You are all invited to next year's festivities.  And if you happen to pass a Reservation, pick up some bottle rockets on your way.

Making My Mailbox Happy This Week

In the stream of bills and advertisements, the thing I eagerly anticipate finding in my mailbox is BOOKS.  I love getting books.  They are my love language.  Even if I hate the books.  Even if the books are pasted together sets of bills and advertisements.

I've had four books come to me in the last week or so, and here they are.

From InterVarsity Press:

John Stott's The Radical Disciple: Some Neglected Aspects of Our Calling is one I'm really excited about.  I read a couple of chapters already and I'm enjoying it.  Stott's message has to do with what it means to truly follow Jesus, a question that interests me a great deal.  So far I love Stott's answer to the question.

Second is Wisdom Chaser: Finding My Father at 14,000 Feet.  I'm a big fan of Richard Foster, and this book is written by his son... a reflection on growing up the son of a father famous for his spiritual insights.  Nathan and his father had grown apart, but they re-discover one another by deciding to climb the tallest mountain in Colorado together.

And, from my good friend and agent, Wes:

The Biggest Bear. A really wonderful kids book about a boy who adopts a bear.  Why did Wes send this to me?  I'm pretty sure it was to spite my acquisitions editor at Tyndale, Sarah.  It's a GREAT book, Sarah.  So good.  Wow.  I bet you wish you had one.

A Silk Road Pilgrimage: Discovering the Church of the East.  Wes said the authors here are some friends of his.  I haven't had a good look yet, but having lived in a location on the Silk Road, I'm excited to see what they have to say about their journey.

Many thanks to Wes and IVP!

Psychic Octopus Predicts World Cup Results

Yes, it's true.  The psychic octopus, who has the mysterious stage name of "Paul", predicts wold cup results.  At least, World Cup results about the German team.  About 70% of the time.

Rumor is that FIFA is considering hiring him as a referee, to let them know ahead of time when refs will make a bad call about a goal.

Special thanks to Christine Mabry, who used her psychic powers to know that I would want to know about this octopus.

The Rules of Flip Floppery

With summer finally warming even the remote nothwestern edges of the Unites States of America, I thought it would be a good time to share some of the summer Rules of Flip Floppery.  Frankly, having grown up in California, I am just now learning these rules, because in California I didn't wear shoes at all.  But here are a few of the many rules of flip floppery:

1) Do not wear your new flip flops on a long, long walk with a friend.  You may think it's a sign of solidarity.  You may think it will be nice in the warm summer sun.  You may discover that you get giant blisters that completely cover any place that the flip flops touched your skin.  You may want to post pictures of said blisters, only to be told by your wife and your friend that this is a disgusting habit and not to be encouraged.

2) If you wear your new flip flops on a long, long walk with a friend, do not post pictures of your blisters on your blog. 

3) Do not call your flip flops "thongs."  I should think this is self-explanatory.  Would you have read this post if it was titled "The Rules of Thongery?"  I think not.  Also, it is confusing when someone says, "Hey, let's go on a walk" and you say, "Just a minute while I put on my thong."

4) Never slap someone in the face with your flip flops.  I have tried this on several people and they have all replied, as if by instinct, "HEY!  Don't do that."  Apparently this one is self-evident.  I mean, I didn't know it, but I figured it out after five or six tries.

5) If you must slap someone in the face with flip flops, make sure they are evil.  The people being slapped, I mean.  Flip flops themselves are rarely evil.

6) Be sure to check on State laws before wearing flip flops to weddings.  While certain States encourage flip flops at weddings (Hawaii and California), others allow only wedding guests to wear them (Oregon, Washington, Colorado).  In other states, flip flops are discouraged altogether. 

7) Believe it or not, there are differences between men's and women's flip flops.  Try to wear the appropriate flip flop for your gender.  The differences can be subtle, but there's nothing more embarrassing than being told that you are wearing women's flip flops (see the picture, left, of my first pair of new flip flops, which have now been returned in exchange for a more manly print).

Eavesdropping with Matt (Episode Forty-Five: GRADE SCHOOL FLASHBACK!)

Dedicated to the two fifth grade boys who were saying goodbye at the end of the last day of their grade school career.  The first boy put his hand tenderly on the shoulder of the second and said:

Boy 1: You know, I'm really going to miss you.

Boy 2 put his hand on Boy 1's shoulder and said gently: I'm not going to miss you at all.


Both boys erupted into riotous laughter.

Boy 2: Just kidding...

Making My Mailbox Happy This Week

Making my mailbox happy this week is Back on Murder by J. Mark Bertrand.

I like the write up on it at Mark's site: "A house full of bodies... a missing girl... a corrupt investigation.  They thought they could get away with it but they forgot one thing: Roland March is BACK ON MURDER." 

I'm looking forward to reading this one.  Special thanks to Mark and Bethany House for sending that along to me!

Link It Up

Ah, it's that time again, when I share the sausage of the internet: LINKS!

Two special links from yours truly:

1) A Father's Day post on the Tyndale Blog.  You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll remember to buy a Father's Day gift for a Dad you know. Bonus: leave a comment and be entered to win a copy of Imaginary Jesus.  It's true. 

2) Over on Chuck Sambuchino's blog with Writer's Digest you can find an article I wrote called 5 Lies Unpublished Writers Tell Themselves (and the Truths That Can Get Them Published).  The basic point of the article is that there are these five lies that unpublished writers tell themselves and there are some truths that can help get them published.  I couldn't figure out how to say that in the title.

MORE LINKS:

3) If you haven't seen it yet you should see that this giant statue of Jesus was struck by lightning.

4) You are running out of time to win the MY IMAGINARY JESUS contest.  You could win a trip to Portland, an iPod, a Kindle and money to a bookstore here in Portland for your trip!  Deadline is July 1st.

Oh, Denver International Airport... I don't know whether to thank you or shame you.

I was disturbed last week when I arrived at the Denver International baggage claim and looked out the window to see a 26 foot tall statue of Anubis, Egyptian god of the dead towering over me.  It was, to say the least, creepy.

Why?

Why would any airport desire to have a god of death keeping watch over the airport?  Is the murderous blue stallion with glowing red eyes not enough?

A little research revealed that the reason for inviting the god of death to watch over the airport had to do with a museum exhibit of King Tut coming to town:



I still think it's creepy.

A little more digging revealed that there is an entire population of people who believe that the Denver airport is some sort of conspiracy theory Temple built by the Masons or the Illuminati or some other secret cabal bent on world domination or world destruction or saving the world or something else having to do with the world.

As I started researching more, I started to realize that DIA is, in fact, creating a living theatre version of LOST.  Airplanes.  Mysterious underground electromagnetic forces. Strange Egyptian statues.

If only there was a black smoke monster.  Oh wait.  There was.

DIA.  It is dumb to put a statue of the god of death overlooking your airport.  I know you don't think it has any power or symbolism in the 21st century, but you are wrong. 

Simultaneously, I would like to thank you for bringing LOST to life for me again.  If you could have somehow made all the actors from the show be returning from Hawaii on my plane, that would have been awesome and would have really completed the illusion.  You officially win the Creepiest Airport Reward.

I do have a TSA story from my flight home through DIA.  It involves a seeing eye dog, a full body scan and a very, very long line.  But that is a story for another night.

Good night, internet. 

Oregonian Article

If you haven't seen it already (because I'm sure you have nothing better to do with your weekends than google my name over and over, hoping that something new will come up), here's an article that appeared in yesterday's Oregonian.  It's a fun piece.  You will like it.  You will probably want to print it out and place it on your mirror, so you can read it each morning while you comb your lustrous hair.  Unless you are like me, in which case you can read a few words each morning while you pretend to comb your Bald.

The Malaise-O-Meter reports on getting in shape and the progress of Night of the Living Dead Christians

You may recall this post from a month ago, in which I decided to destroy malaise, get in shape, and write my new novel.  It is going slower than I had hoped, but at least it is headed the right direction. If you look at this post from a year ago you will be surprised to discover that it is even slower going than I initially thought, and also that when I am talking about weight loss I am almost certainly going to refer to chopping off or removing some essential piece of my anatomy, the heavier the better.

Since Night of the Living Dead Christians is due to my publisher August 1, I need to actually (ahem) finish writing it.  So I guess it's time to start busting out the progress bars like I did when writing Imaginary Jesus.  So, (drumroll, please), here it is:

21678 / 50000 words. 43% done!

Forty-three percent done!  Now, if someone could kindly give my Acquisitions Editor a smelling salt so that she doesn't faint from the stress, I have to say that I am farther along thatn I thought I was!  And in addition to the actual pages written, I've charted all the chapters out (like a Boy Scout! Or a navigator or something!) and have even written bits and pieces of the ending scenes.  

P.S. I noticed that you didn't actually do a drumroll.  That is disappointing.  What good is a blog if people are not interacting, I ask you? ANSWER: It is mostly good to give me the feeling that I have an audience at all times. And when you don't respond I assume it is because you are having such a great time that you can't form the words.

P.P.S. In case you are one of those morbid people who keeps tuning in to wonder how much weight the Biggest Loser has lost this week (can't you just love us the way we are?), I've lost about 8 pounds since the last time I dared to talk about this subject. From all the jogging.  And sweating because of my unfinished novel.

It's entirely possible that this is why God created the internet

A five year old has written the best comic of all time, and his 29 year old brother has illustrated it.  Get ready for its awesome goodness.  And when you are ready, click on this link.

Psalm 117 (NLT)

Praise the Lord, all you nations.

Praise him, all you people of the earth.

For he loves us with unfailing love; the Lord's faithfulness endures forever.

Praise the Lord!

Jogging Advice

Okay. I need some advice from some of you insane people who are always jogging. What the heck do you people do with all the stuff from your pockets?

Here's the stuff I carry:

My MP3 player. So that I can play MP3s.

My keys. So I can get back into my house before I collapse on the porch.

My driver's license. So if I get hit by a car they know where to take my unconscious body.

My cell phone. In case I fall into a tiger pit or something.

The problem is that while I'm jogging all this junk bounces around in my pockets. And then I end up running while holding my cell phone and MP3 player in one hand and my keys in the other, which means that I am woefully unprepared if someone were, for instance, to throw me a gold brick and shout "CATCH IT AND YOU CAN KEEP IT!"

I am at an impasse. And because there are thousands of you insane joggers out there, I'm guessing there is some sort of technology or common sense solution to this problem. So... please enlighten me.

Side note: I noticed tonight while I was running that if I look off to the side instead of straight ahead -- say, to look at a bird which has startled up out of the marsh -- that my body keeps running without my eyes watching the road. Good job, body! That's a great trick.

Better, Stronger, Faster

I am slowly getting back into jogging and exercise.  When I started I could barely breathe.  I mean, six steps of jogging would be followed by about six minutes of pep talk about, "You're not going to pass out, Mikalatos!  Because if you do there are wild dogs in this neighborhood which would eat your fingers off!"

But I am getting stronger.  As someone who has never exercised much, I'm always amazed by the physiological changes as I start getting more time exercising.  It increases my mental energy, and my interest for new topics is piqued.  I find it relatively easy to think and have deep prayer times while running, which in turn creates a deeper desire for spiritual health. I am more thankful for simple things.  Like oxygen.  And the smell of antique roses in the rain.  My thought processes seem to expand (not that they're ever particularly contained) and I see strange connections I hadn't noticed before.  I feel more calm.  Also, I have an increasing desire to lay on the floor and concentrate on breathing and reminding myself that although my legs are complaining all the time, they are not the most important part of the body.  OBEY ME, LEGS!  Don't worry, I will master them eventually.

Also getting stronger... my smell.  Man, when I run I create an impervious wall of scent.  If some gang of men were to come against me and raise their fists to me I would have only to raise my own fists and they would be down for the count.  When the police found them, the detectives would say, "It appears that they were struck down by a semi hauling a giant container of musk."  That's right.  Musk.

And now you are wishing you had stopped a paragraph ago.  But that is the sort of discipline you can gain only through regular exercise.  I know for me personally, I never read more than one paragraph or a blog,  sixteen words of any given e-mail, and 97 characters of anything written on twitter. I will share more about that some other time.  In the meantime, you should know that soon I will be appearing in body building magazines, and I didn't want you to be shocked by the transformation. Just yesterday I couldn't find my car keys and had to lift and move my car out of the driveway.  I mean, it's only a compact, but I suspect I'll be moving the van within a few months.

Signed,

Steve Austin

In The Mailbox!

In my mailbox today was Faithbook of Jesus by Renee Johnson.  Renee has written a devotional book aimed at 20-somethings, and I've heard great things about it (and her).  I'm looking forward to digging into it and seeing what she has to say!  Thanks, Renee and NavPress, for sending this along!

Time Machine, Take Us To The 1980's!

Tonight, because of our friend Justin McRoberts Krista and I started talking about George Michael tonight. And during that conversation Krista revealed that she had NEVER SEEN A MUSIC VIDEO FROM THE 80s! She somehow missed them all!

Which REQUIRED that she watch George Michael's classic video for "Faith." You gotta have it. It is awesome. And now you need to watch it. WARNING: Elvis dancing and 80's style abound in this video.



Where do you start with someone who has never seen ANY music videos? Well, I immediately thought of "Take On Me" by Ah-Ha!



Krista's comments included:

1) It is awesome.

2) That girl in the video had Krista's dream 80's haircut.

3) That girl from the video has the same stereo Krista had! She is stealing Krista's dream hair and her boom box!

I then turned Krista's attention to "Happy To Be Stuck With You" by Huey Lewis and the News.



Then she made me stop. In fact, she didn't make it to the end of the video. Even though it is funny and rad. And Huey Lewis.

Then I tried to convince her to watch a David Hasselhoff video. But she politely declined. You need not do the same:



I know, that last one is not from the 80's. But it could not exist without the 80's, could it? No, it could not.

DISCUSS: What 1980's music videos must we introduce to Krista?

What Little Boys Are Made Of

The kids came running out of swim class this week and A shouted, "Dad, dad, do you know what little girls are made of?"

Me: I don't know... puppy dog tails or something like that?

A: No!  Sugar and spice and all things nice.

Me: Oh.

Z: And do you know what boys are made of?

Me: No.

Z: Salamander tails and nails and all that fails.

Me: I've never heard that before.

Z: That's because I made it up.

A career in Beaver Dams

While learning all about the world's biggest beaver dam, I saw a link to get a "Beaver Dam Job."  I'm not sure what that sort of job is, exactly.  I'm pretty sure it's what I was thinking about yesterday... you're hired to do the beaver's job, you're given a pair of knives and sent out to build some dams.  Pretty exciting!

What's really cool about the CareerMatcher advertisment site is that you can make any job you want with a little editing of the address link.  So if you would like a job as a professional Burning Hearts Minion, CareerMatcher can help connect you with that. Or if you would like to be an UFO driver.  Or a dinosaur hunter.  Or pretty much anything you can think of.

Beavers, Dams and Serving Jesus

A couple of months ago I mentioned that I was headed off to have a Day with the Lord.  I meant to share a bit about that immediately afterward, but I find that I have a difficult time putting into words my serious spiritual experiences... I can't just slap them together and throw them on the blog for public consumption.

One thing that interests me on my little getaways like this is "applying my heart" to the things that I see.  The idea behind this comes from the Proverbs, when Solomon wrote that he saw a broken down wall.  He said that he applied his heart to what he saw and then comes to the proverb itself, "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest and poverty will come upon you like a bandit, scarcity like an armed man."

I try to take this sort of thinking with me on days like this and see what I can learn from observing the world around me, and trying to listen to the Lord in the context of my surroundings.

On this particular day, I was pleasantly surprised to stumble upon my first close-up beaver dam and lodge.  It started when I saw this tree:

I had never seen anything like this.  In fact, my first thought was, "Hmmm... that's how it looks in a cartoon when a beaver has been eating a tree."  Genius, I know.

I was amazed as I looked around and noticed more and more trees that had been chewed down.  Some of the trees were fifteen or twenty feet tall, and some had been fell and then stripped of their smaller branches.  Then I came across the dam, which was actually quite impressive, when you stop to think about how it is made:

And here's the lodge:

The lodge, as you probably know, has a hole in the bottom so that the only entrance is through the water.  Inside the lodge it's dry and warm and safe from predators.

Anyway, as I spent time thinking about and reflecting on our friends the beavers (I never saw one, by the way... I assume they were safely snuggled up in their lodge) I thought about this: here we have an animal a little larger than a cat which can chop down trees, build dams and build homes for themselves.  The scale of their accomplishments seem ridiculous to me.  If, for instance, someone were to give me a set of sharp knives and tell me to build a dam and a lodge, I don't know that I could replicate their industrious constructions.

Beavers are designed to do this marvelous thing.  Through industry, perseverance and a singular vision they accomplish something that I would say is impossible if I didn't already know it existed.  I wonder if I can't be like a beaver.  Is there any reason that I can't take what meager abilities/skills/tools that I have and use those to accomplish unbelievable things for the glory of God?  I don't think there is.  Certainly if I am willing to work hard and persevere and follow whatever blueprints he gives me, I don't see why this couldn't be the case.  If a thirty pound mammal can alter the geography of an entire area, there's no reason that I can't accomplish something amazing for the Lord.

My good friend Shasta sent me an article about the largest beaver dam in the world, which has been built by several generations of beavers.  Pretty amazing.

Anyway, this was one small bit of my day, but I thought I would share.  I want to take every little skill I have and use it to accomplish unbelievable, amazing things for God....

Children, Freedom of Speech, Jesus, and Alternate Theories of the World's Beginnings

My daughters, Z and A, were sitting in the hallway sorting their jewelry (is this normal? Someone help me out here.), and as I came up the stairs I overheard this conversation:

A: You're not allowed to talk about Jesus at school.

Z: Why?

A: Because it causes fights. At least in my classroom.

Z: What do people fight about?

A: Well, Sophia will say that the world started when a giant mountain broke down and then made the earth. And then Jacob will say, no, that's not what happened. God created the earth. Then I will tell Jacob, we don't talk about that here, this is school not Awanas.

Z: Does Jacob go to Awanas?

A: No, but I just mean that you talk about Jesus at Awanas, not school.

I walked up later and explained that in this country we have Freedom of Speech, which means that you can talk about whatever you want in school (except hurting people or blowing up schools, that sort of thing). And that this meant that our friends (like Jacob) are also allowed to talk about Jesus at school. And Sophia can talk about how the world was made when a mountain broke down.

Honestly, though, Sophia. The world was made when a mountain broke down? zWhat the heck?

This Blog Might Just Save Your Life

I've spent a lot of time thinking about the coming world domination (in which robots take over the world).  Lest you think it's a joke, don't forget that there are robots who can eat you.  Right now.  Today.  In this world in which we live.

BUT today when I was out surfing the net I came across this fascinating piece of information from the human resistance, disguised as a comment form.  BEHOLD:

Looks like it's time for a trip to the tattoo parlor!

My Daughter Vs. Radio

Driving A to ballet on Saturday, she suddenly burst out, "WHY? DO YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS?  IT IS -- SO -- BORING!"

I was listening to A Prairie Home Companion, which is not boring.  But perhaps to a child it can be.  I tried to convince her not to listen if it bored her but she told me she couldn't stop listening because "It fills the whole car."

So I turned to a local Christian radio station. 

A: What was that song about?

Me: Uhh, something about God working in the lives of everyone and not giving up on them.

A: Is every song on this station the same?

Me: No, that was a different song.

A: But they're all about the same thing,

Me: Yeah. They kind of are.

A: Are they all sung by the same person?

Me: No, there are different singers.

A: Well, they all sound the same to me.

I Would Like You All To Fan Out Over the Entire World and Deface Road Signs In This Way

Bold Links, complete with Exclamation Points (!)

KILLER ELEPHANT ON THE LOOSE!

BBC India reports that there is a serial killer elephant on the loose.  He has killed at least 10 female elephants and his signature kill has to do with puncturing his victims with a broken tusk. 

This sounds like a job for... BOBO THE DETECTIVE CHIMP!

If ever there were a time that the world needed a real, live detective chimp, this would be that time.

CONTROVERSY OVER CHURCH NAME SHORTAGE!

You've probably already heard all the controversy surrounding the shortage of church names.  This is by far the best article I've seen on the topic.  It's an important issue that all Christians should weigh in on.

AMAZING SHRINKING HORSE!

BHR correspondent @mrkengos writes in to tell us that horses are getting smaller all the time. Soon you will be able to carry them in a purse or handbag, or carry them on an airplane.  I would appreciate it if no one ever mentioned this to my children.

ROBOTS ARE DESCRIBING IMAGINARY JESUS!

At least I assume it is robots.  It might be poorly paid interns.  Regardless, you can see my careful study of the fruits of their labor here. 

Get Page CXVI's HYMNS album for FREE (!!!!). No, really. Free.

Today through May 4th you can download, for free, the entire first Hymns album by up and coming rock band Page CXVI.  Here's the link for that album.  Page CXVI has an amazing sound, and I'm glad they're giving this album away.  Part of the idea here is that you will love the first album and want to buy the new one, which is releasing this week.  You will want to buy the new one.  I'm going to go buy it right now.


You may recall that I've written about this band before.  They are always trying to be all anonymous because they want people to focus on the music and not get caught up in a celebrity lifestyle.  Well, I don't want you to have to worry about it, so last year I revealed their identities.  I have listened to this album (the first one) about a thousand times.  It's really amazing, and it has done exactly what they designed it to do... brought new life to beloved hymns.  I love hymns, I really do, but frankly I do not listen to them outside of the church building.  Or I didn't before this album.  If you're skeptical (why be skeptical, it's FREE!), take a listen to a couple of songs.  I love their version of "Joy".  And, well, their version of everything.  It's powerful stuff.  Take a listen and leave your thoughts here, if you like.

Their name and logo, by the way, comes from C.S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew. Page 116 is the page (in the edition they were reading) that Aslan sings the world into being.  They wanted to allude to the creative power of God and the power of godly music to transform and create. In my edition it's the part where the witch tears out the lamppost and goes after the taxi driver with it.  Which would have made a cool logo, if you try to picture it.

Look forward to hearing what you think!

If you're looking for Matt Mikalatos, this is where you can find him.

I've had a sudden surge in interest today here at the Burning Hearts Revolution, because George Barna sent out an article about people's opinions and thoughts concerning whether they feel connected to Christ. I thought I'd give a quick introduction about me and my book for all our new friends.

About Me.


My name is Matt Mikalatos, but I suppose you figured that out already. I live in the Portland, Oregon area, and I'm married to a gorgeous woman who has provided me with three gorgeous daughters. We go to a church called Village, just west of Portland. I just graduated from Western Seminary, and I work full time for Campus Crusade for Christ.  You can follow me on twitter or friend me on facebook.  No doubt there are other things you could do to me on other websites.  Here is one of my favorite pictures of myself, with an eagle on my shoulder, from when my wife and I went to the election riots in Mexico. Yes, the only thing I was thinking the entire time that thing was on my shoulder was, "TAKE THE PICTURE BEFORE THIS THING SCOOPS MY EYE OUT LIKE A GRAPE!"  We don't show pictures after this time until I could take the patch off.  I am a passionate follower of Jesus, and like him I have a lot of friends who aren't followers of Jesus.  And that's the way it should be, to my way of thinking.  And now I will stop editorializing and share a couple thoughts about my book.  I LOVE to speak at different events, and if you would like to invite me to speak at your event you can listen to a couple of talks I've done or schedule me for your event right here.

About Imaginary Jesus.  Imaginary Jesus is the first novel to be released by Barna, and it's a comedy theology novel.  If it sounds like I just said "It's a cat that lives underwater", then you can read the first chapter here to see what I mean. It's designed to be entertaining while simultaneously exploring our misconceptions about Jesus... and how to know and interact with the real Jesus. So far I've heard from atheists as well as fundamentalists who have loved the book, and I believe you could use it to start a conversation about Jesus with pretty much anyone.  Anyone who can read, that is, unless you just want to discuss the excellent cover.  You can order the book here, the spectacular audio book here.  You can also go to the IJ website, or ENTER A CONTEST to win a Kindle, iPod and a trip to hang out with me in Portland, OR!  Since we're throwing links around like they're free or something, you may as well go check out the cool book trailer that Tyndale House put together.

About the Burning Hearts Revolution.  BHR is my blog, which I put together several years ago purely to entertain myself.  I pretty much write about whatever pleases me.  I call the followers of the blog the BHR Minions.  I don't often put a lot of my more profound thoughts or spiritual experiences on this blog, though that's something I'd like to change.  But it takes me a long time to express those things adequately.  In any case, please understand this is just my personal blog, which I keep updated for kicks.  You can check out the Imaginary Jesus blog, which I keep updated for kicks, also, but which is more specifically focused on the content of IJ.  In any case, you are very welcome here, and we're glad to have you aboard!  Feel free to introduce yourself in the comments if you would like.

What It Looks Like When I Graduate From Seminary

Friday night Western held the graduation banquet, which was actually a lot of fun and brought to mind a lot of reminders about why we came to seminary in the first place. I'll put a post up later this week about that. Krista, our parents and my sister Dawn all joined us at the banquet and so did a lot of our friends from Western and their families, of course. And why the number 40 in this picture? Why, it's my class rank, of course. Goooooooo, number 40! Oh, fine. It was the number of our table. Goooooo number 40! In other news, the napkins at the restuarant were made to look like human hands. Creepy. Notice also the uncontrollable flame in front of Krista. Because she is HOT!

Here's the family, all celebrating together. No more class for Dad! Yay! The kids did an admirable job sitting through the ceremony. Here's the first picture of me with my Master's Hood. I liked it during the rehearsal when they kept referring to "The Hooding Place." It sounded creepy. It wasn't actually creepy, but that's how it sounded. The hood, unfortunately, was rented and had to be returned.


Baby M: "Dad, I am so glad you spent six years and many thousands of dollars for this great toy for me!  Yaaaaay, Dad!  It's attached to your head!"

Z: "Before I had a baby sister *I* would have been the one to yank those tassles."

Old couple in the background: "When I was younger, people had the proper respect for graduation tassles!  None of this letting babies touch them nonsense!"



Lastly, I told A she could take a picture of herself wearing my cap, but only if the tassle was on the right side of the cap, since she hasn't earned wearing it on the left yet. TAKE THAT you seven year old non-graduate! Don't worry, she is planning to defeat my school-going record. Go for it, kid!

Many thanks to all my family and friends who came to graduation and the party afterward. I love you guys and am thankful for all the hard work, understanding and patience you have given me over the years while I was working on this degree!

Taking Malaise Out of My Diet

Mmmm. malaise.

I went and worked out the other day after not working out for, oh, I don't know, a million years.  Yes, that's right.  A million years.  I realized during the workout that I had been experiencing a general feeling of malaise and I needed to kick myself into gear.  Yes, that's right, kick myself.  It's not as hard as you would think.  Man, you're really picking my every word apart, aren't you? 

ANYWAY, if you're all done criticizing every single thing I say.  Sigh.  What I was trying to say was that I was experiencing some malaise.  And while it sounds like something that might be tasty on a sandwich, it's not something you want to be feeling in life.  It's unpleasant.

And as I worked out I felt better.  I decided that I needed a goal to break out of this malaise.

Now, according to the height/weight charts I've seen, my "target weight" should be 167 pounds.  This is shocking.  The last time I weighed 167 pounds was the day I was born.  My skull alone weighs about forty pounds because the Good Lord wanted to make sure that my monstrous brain was well protected.  I weigh 208 pounds right now.  But it's strawberry milkshake season, so that could be about to go up.

I decided, as I was saying, that I needed a goal.  And so I've chosen to lose some weight over the next couple of months. I'm not going to lose 41 pounds because I don't want anyone to call me Skeletor.  Also, it is unreasonable to suppose that I am willing to live without my skull.  No way!  That would be uncomfortable.

I'm targeting 190 by August 22. 

But I am not going to start trying until May first because right now there is a large amount of white chocolate chip cookies in my house that require eating and I don't want my family to suffer through that alone.

Also on the to-do list: My next book, Night of the Living Dead Christians, is due by August 1st.  I will write it instead of eating.  That is the plan.

And now we return you to the regularly scheduled blog posts.  Thank you for your kind attention.

Babies Are Awesome

I was home with the baby today and got to spend quite a bit of good, quality time with her, which led me to this observation: babies are awesome.

And perhaps it's because their skulls haven't completely closed up yet, but you can see exactly what they are thinking most of the time.

For instance, when I walked into the bathroom and closed the door most of the way, she wiggled in after me and the door swung open and she rolled over in stark amazement and I could see her thinking, "WHOA! That thing totally swings open.  You just push on it and it totally... swings." 

Then she found the wastebasket and she was clearly thinking, "Oh.  This is where Mom and Dad put all that stuff they don't want me putting in my mouth.  It's some sort of... treasure box!"  And when you tip it over it spills its treasure all over the floor!

Also, babies are still learning a lot.  For instance, most people would know not to follow me if I am walking into the bathroom.  'Nuff said.

Right now she is drinking from a bottle.  I notice, by the way, that super markets never put baby formula on sale because they know we have to buy it anyway.  But they are worried we will steal it.  It's just covered in electronic sensors and in some stores it's kept LOCKED UP.  With the spray paint and the cigarettes.  If this ever gets out to the young hooligans in our neighborhood I'm sure they'll be tagging fences, smoking, and drinking baby formula.

All that to say: babies are awesome.  The world needs more babies.

THE END

p.s. Puppies and kittens also are acceptable.

Touché

On the way home from the video store....

Me: Home again, home again, jiggetty jig!

Z: I'll kick a puddle and then eat a pig!

(pause)

Me: That made no sense.

Z: It made as much sense as what you said.

Rest in Peace

I had this friend named Collette.  I met her in a creative writing class at my junior college.  As I recall she had written a story which turned out to be a thinly veiled story about herself, in which the main character was dealing with some conflict with her husband.  I mentioned in the feedback that the story was frightening, to see such a clear example of spousal abuse, and she came and talked to me afterward, to ask if I really thought what she had written about constituted abuse.  I told her I thought it did, and in some mysterious way this caused us to become friends.  That's my first memory of Collette.

Over the years we kept in touch occasionally.  Krista and I both briefly worked at the same school as Collette.  She got our newsletter, and she and I would send notes back and forth on Facebook.  She sent me theological questions every once in a while, and made funny comments on my profile about as often.  A few years ago I visited her at her house, and hung out with her and her kids.

Collette was a sweet, loving, patient woman, with a lot of ability to endure difficult things without realizing they were difficult.  She wrestled with tough questions, but with an underlying certainty of God's goodness.  She was friendly, and pleasant, and kind.  She had a sincere faith in Jesus Christ, and spoke about him often and with great affection. I considered her a friend, and I like to think she considered me a friend, too.

And that's about all I can share here about Collette.  This last Monday Collette decided for some reason I cannot fathom that it would be best if she took her own life.

How I feel about this is complex.  I think it's safe to say that the first thing I feel is regret.  I wish she had called me and I had been able to talk to her about whatever it was that made her think this was a good idea.  I wish I had known her better, had been a close enough friend that she would have even thought about calling me.  I was in her town the day she did it.  I wish I had thought, somehow, to call her.  I wish it had crossed my mind.

Related to that, and intertwined with it, is the sadness and a sense of loss.  When someone is gone, there's a realization that I can't call her now.  I left a note on her wall on facebook, but that's more for me than for her. She's not checking her messages anymore.  Or, well, I don't really know how that works. But there's this moment in the feelings of loss where I just want to go back and remember every insignificant conversation we ever had.  I want to re-read our dumb facebook notes to each other.  I want to double check her theological questions and see if I missed a warning sign. I want to make sure to remember every last thing I knew about her, because that's all that's left of her, for me.

And then there's this next-to-last feeling that I'm not sure how to express because it seems wrong to say.  I know it's normal and even expected, but I am really angry at Collette, too.  Killing herself was selfish, pretty much the most self-involved thing she could have done.  It doesn't change that I liked her, or that she was a great person, but I just don't understand how she left her kids behind, and left all of us behind without a goodbye and without asking for our help.  Or maybe she did, and I wasn't close enough to be in that circle.  

The last thing, Collette, is that I'm glad you're beyond this now.  What I mean is, I know you're in the arms of Jesus, and even now he's wiping the tears from your eyes and showing you that all those years you spent broken and worried and hurt and abused and crushed and uncertain of your own value, that all those things are a million years behind you and you are in a place where you can experience (at last) perfect love and see yourself the way our Creator sees you.  I'm very, very thankful for that.  I wish you could have found a big enough piece of that here, but I'm glad you're in the arms of our savior now.

So. Rest in peace, my friend.  I will pray for your children and family, and I hope to see you well and whole when next we meet.

Your friend,

Matt

Eavesdropping with Matt (Episode Forty-Four: THE WORST BOOK EVER!)

Dedicated to the very friendly, industrious and chatty teens at the Marshall Center in Vancouver, Washington, who had no idea that I was silently taking notes on them like some sort of person who takes notes on wild animals. 

Teen #1: What book did you choose for your AP book report?  I'm reading Alice in Wonderland, but I'm so far ahead of schedule I had to stop.

Teen #2: I haven't even started mine.  I chose The Count of Monte Cristo.

Teen #3: I chose, like, the worst book ever.  Don Quixote.  It's over a thousand pages with tiny print.

C'mon, you know you want to...

Easter is better than Wester

We had a great time yesterday here at the Mikalatos household.  We got up early yesterday and went to early service at our church, which was amazing.  The traditional service had an orchestra and large choir which was great.  Pastor John did a great sermon on Abraham, Isaac and the resurrection of Christ, which was really excellent and fascinating.

Then we came home and everyone started cooking.  My parents, Krista's mom, Shasta, my brother-in-law Kevin, my nephew and our neighbor across the street all came over for lunch, an Easter egg hunt and good company.  We had a good time.

On the left here you can see a picture of our wonderful children.  Baby M is holding that traditional symbol of Easter, the Jesus Chicken.  You can see more pictures at my lovely wife Krista's blog.

It was a good day.  Another wonderful holiday past... now back to regular seculidays.  Those are good, too.  I am thankful for my family and friends and particularly for the sacrifice of our Lord.  Christo anesti!

Imaginary Jesus Contest REVEALED!!

At last I can reveal the amazing "My Imaginary Jesus" contest!

You could win a Kindle, an iPod, signed copies of the book or... lunch with me in Portland!  I know some of you who read this blog are thinking, "I have lunch with you all the time here in Portland... and it's AMAZING!"  That's true.  But just imagine someone from some backwoods place like New York City getting flown out here by Tyndale to have lunch with me.  And imagine this... I will convince my wife to come to lunch with us, too!  AMAZING!  I know.  It really is.

All you have to do is write, draw, paint or record your own story about an imaginary Jesus from your own life and send it in to Tyndale and then WIN!

And to get you used to how awesome it is to WIN THINGS here is the first chapter of Imaginary Jesus FOR FREE!

Imaginary Jesus Sighting in the Wild, or, One of These Things Is Not Like the Others

Krista went to the downtown Portland Borders today and saw a copy of Imaginary Jesus in the wild!

Poor Imaginary Jesus.  He looks a little out of place on this shelf.  I mean, there you are, reading the spines and you come across:

Plain Jayne
Cowgirl at Heart
The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow
Imaginary Jesus (?!)
Somewhere to Belong
She Walks In Beauty

That's right, friends, Imaginary Jesus is the book equivalent of that boy that your parents told you not to hang out with in high school.  "Plain Jayne, I told you that Imaginary Jesus boy ain't worth nothing.  And he smokes and chews and goes with girls who do."

But that's where he likes it, baby.  He's going to worm his way into Amish romantic fiction soon.  Awwww yeah!