“No Excuses!”

Well, that is what I hear as I try to convince myself of a worthy reason as to why I haven’t written in almost three weeks. Honestly, I have no excuse. However, during my stint of laziness, I’ve been meditating on an article which I read a while ago.

The article titled, “Who Are You?” (by Roy S. Johnson, Editor in Chief, Men’s Fitness/March 2011), presses the reader to take a look at ourselves completely stripped of the stuff and things that control our identity; such as what we wear, drive, eat, etc.. Then, when all else is gone, who and what is left?

      Ultimately, who we are is what we leave behind. Sure, you might have a will crammed with all kinds of stuff to leave your family and loved ones. But even if your estate is worth millions, it won’t be as valuable as you and how you touched those around you, how you taught those around you – by your actions and words
      Make sure you like you when there’s nothing else around.

Well put! But why bring it up? Because, in essences, this is the heart of the Modern Gentleman. Too many times am I needing constant reminders of what it means to take pride in “me.” Everyday, I have to ask myself, “What am I doing to invest in me?” And this question is the foundation of The Modern Gentleman.

(Read more, click here…)

Let’s take a moment to talk about manliness. For the past several months, I’ve been consumed with this idea that men should become better at being men. And much of theses ideas have encapsulated itself into the new project, The Modern Gentleman. But, I dare say that the issue plaguing the fowl mouth, insecure, hedonistic society and culture of today (and most of history) is the lack of emphasis we have on raising boys to be well-defined, justice driven, confident, self responsible men.

Let’s face it. Our culture has bastardized the definition of men, and the values that are naturally written in the DNA of every male. God forbid society raises any more men that qualify for a spot on The Jersey Shore. Culture has taken the definition, values and morals of being a man, and stunted it’s growth at the age of 16, leaving a culture of mentally pubescent men at the age of 30 years of age parading around thinking with a brain that is only to be tamed.

This cultural ideology has left us with 40 something year old men, living in their parent’s basement, consumed in online worlds and nurturing relationships that are only found in fantasy and imagination. It leaves us with an astounding divorce rate in America, leaving sons and daughters to mature in an environment that is one-side and un-trusting of the missing family element. It leaves us with websites promoting infidelity, preaching adultery as a healthy characteristic of marriage.

One of the most profound books that I have read on this subject is Wild at Heart by John Eldredge. Eldredge argues the decline in “manliness” contributed to the overwhelming feminizing of male children. Only because of the declining role of the father. It’s been left to moms and grandmothers to raise boys, and teach them how to be men. It’s contradicting in nature.

Being in youth ministry for over a decade, the most popular conversation among teenagers and their parents have been how culture presses in on young girls to encourage them to be someone different than who they are; thus, leading to the epidemic of eating disorders and self-mutilation. However, in today’s world, it can be said that as problematic as it is for girls to be pressured in a “super-model” persona, oppositely, boys are pressured by culture to not be who they are created to be, giving into the temptations of their adolescent nature which never grow to maturity out of this stage.

It is not as though adolescences is a mistake, or a stage in life that boys are to be ashamed of. Quite the opposite. But, if those adolescent boys soon turn 30 or 40 years old, and are mentally and morally stuck in adolescences, then the “man” inside is lost, encouraging culture as the victor once again.

Men have to be better. Men must be continually seeking growth intellectually, morally, socially, and spiritually. Men must have a hope that drives them to greatness. Men must believe in something greater than themselves, whether that be God or the common good. Men must be controlled by passion: a passion to succeed, a passion to protect, a passion to provide, and a passion to be fair.

We’ve lost the intricate aspects of manliness and have perverted it with shallow and insignificant values. Then we have the audacity to elevate icons in culture to represent these ideas, viewing them as heroes of today. We’ve a long way to go. However, it starts with my son. He will be better than the men of today. He’ll be better than me. And if you are a man, then it starts with your son, too.

Let’s be honest. We can officially state that chivalry is dead. Some men are still known for there morals and presentation of self, but the world has killed the gentlemanly trait of chivalry. Yet, even though such a thing may no longer exist in the circle of men, or has made it absurdly unaffordable for most, there is an urge in most men to be something better.

If there is one thing that a man might be known for is his persistence. If a man is to develop a passion in something or someone, and his attention and absolute focus were to be consumed by this then there would be nothing to stand in his way from completing the objective, or obtaining the object. But, hidden in the deep complexities of a man’s passion and focus, and going deeper into the inner workings of a man’s soul is a trait by which the entire core and existence of man’s being is fueled, honor.

And, within this trait is a self-determined and God-written code by which a man survives and lives, consciously and subconsciously. Many men will fail at crossing over the rite of passage of boyishness to manly disciplines, and die a prideful, convoluted, wanderer lost in his disability to find himself.  However, the other few will continually search out perfection as their understanding of self is saturated with humility and respect. And they will die fulfilled and pleased with their journey as they have tried and tested themselves, understanding the meaning to live. This is concept of the Modern Gentleman.

The Modern Gentlemen is not about a list of morals, per se. It is deeper than that. It goes beyond the surface, and even the heart of a man. It is about the idea that drives the heart of men. The idea that life is something to be fought for, something to be enjoyed, and something to die for. It is the idea that today you should wake up a better man than you were yesterday. It is the idea that perfection should not obtained, but should be sought after. It is a purpose. It is a vision. It is a goal.

The Conception

When I was in my early twenties, I worked in a cigar and fine gifts store; later, I would find myself managing the store. Though much of the reoccurring clientele were older and more wiser in their years, I begin to take notice of an ‘underground’ group of twenty-something males seeking out, what many would call, the finer things of life. I found myself entering into conversations with these men who were yearning to change their discipline and attitude towards manliness; yet, was confused as to what manliness was and by what means they were to afford it.

There eyes would light up and you could see their imagination ignite as they began to imagine themselves in other men’s shoes – men who were enjoying these ‘finer things.’ And in an instant, certain disciplines, often overlooked by many, became their reality; coffee, shaving, tobacco, grooming, etc.. But, more often than not, the twenty-something’s wallet carried the wrong credentials. And, the men left with a sense of doubt in themselves and their ability to be the man who their heart tugged at them to be.

Years later, I met a man named, Tim Brown. During many conversations over cigars and drink of choice, we found many similarities in our pursuit of manliness. Throughout the years of our friendship, we sought out our respected desires towards manly disciplines, and found encouragement and intellectual stimulation in our anticipated meetings.

After years of searching, poking and prodding our own hearts and desires towards the manly arts, we put a name to the movement, The Modern Gentleman. This is not a new concept by any means, but an understanding and revitalization of an older one.

The Revitalization

As I stated above, chivalry is dead. It was once a code for a class of men, pushing themselves to be something different, something better. And as time progressed, as well as culture, the movement died. The code was something  passed down from father to son in each generation. However, with the ongoing cultural perversion of family systems and male-to-male relationship, the code would be lost in self-doubt and prideful ambition.

Yet, this code is not something a man can merely get rid of. It goes deeper than that. It is written into the very structure and creation of a man. Men simply yearn to be something great. Some are able to harness this yearning and put a definition to it, adapting it to their life, their discipline, their relationship and their self-perception. Others find themselves lost in a mindless searching for greatness in the midst of nothingness.

The young men who would come into my store so many years ago discovered their yearning and they were trying to put definition to it. They saw themselves as men who walked differently, talked differently, conducted business differently, and lived life at a higher standard. However, that reality for them was to expensive.

That is where the Modern Gentleman comes in. We want to help make that reality affordable to you. We want to help you understand your own yearning. We want to help you define your manliness.

The Modern Gentleman

The Modern Gentleman is a pet project, in which Tim and I want to help young men afford that reality. And not only afford it, but understand it, too. We want to open up a whole new world to manliness. This movement is for those who have the urges for greatness, yet feel the necessity to tame it. It is understanding and adapting the discipline of manliness to our lives so that we are better men and the world around us is a better world.

Some will catch on and some won’t, but we hope that you take our experience, our finding, our experiments and our understandings, and let it assist you in your rite of passage.

What is the Modern Gentleman going to look like? It is going to be a journey of disciplines, arts, ideas and experiences. We will see out different ideas of manliness and give our perspective on it. And when certain concepts are usually tainted with extreme amounts of money (i.e. $150 shaving brush from Art of Shaving), we will seek out the affordable (i.e. Why to even use a shaving brush?). Manliness should not be elite. It should not be expensive. But, it should be open for any man with an urge for greatness. It is about bringing a new standard for men across the world, across the nation, and across the street. It is about you becoming who you were made to be.

Become the Modern Gentleman.

Just recently (January 2011), my wife, Cassie, has created her own little project (you can check it out here) which is quite an extraordinary project, I might say. Her project is named, Project Seventh Day. It includes a mixture of changing life styles, disciplines and dieting, while also, taking a day off to enjoy food, fun, family, and… well, sanity.

While I was there when this concept was contrived, I had no idea what my involvement would be. Maybe a little encouragement here and there. Maybe the need to endure a salad more than I necessarily want to. But, then the first Saturday (seventh day) came. All of her hard work from the week of exercise and dieting would pay off… for me.

My wife wants to cook, try out new recipes and dishes, and enjoy food in such a way that hedonist would be jealous, and I am the guinea pig. The meal that she has spent all week thinking about, creating a recipe, preparing the groceries and spending hours to cook, involves me pulling up a chair, grabbing a fork and indulging my taste buds.

Now, I’ve never recieved a free meal at a 5 star restaurant due the article I am to write the next day. Heck, I’ve never been to a 5 star restaurant. However, Project Seventh Day is a 5 star idea! I’m no food critic, but I am a lover of food. I know what tastes good… and also, what my dog wouldn’t even eat.

I’m not saying I will critique my wife’s cooking (no, that would be a mistake of tremendous proportions). However, I will enjoy the benefits of having a wife with such passions that it overflows to my waistline. And, I will let you know a non-food critic’s point of view on my most favorite restaurant in town, my wife’s kitchen.

I hope you enjoy! I hope you find the information useful. And I hope that one day you could experience the same glorious thing that I do every seventh day. Cheers!

READ TODAY’S POSTS:

Week One

What better way to start off Project Seventh Day then to bring home some comfort food from the south, fried goodness! Now, I have to be honest. I “like” fried food, but don’t “love” fried food like many people do. I hate to feel greasy, or gooey, or gross; and fried food does just that for and to me. Yet, I was intrigued when Cassie told me that the secret to her fried chicken was “double dipping.” (Read more…)

Week Two

Imagine this: sitting in the living room while your wife is in the kitchen composing her masterpiece for this week’s project, and then you hear her say, “Dang it! This is going to be a disaster.” (Read more…)



Curtis Thomas’ New Years Resolutions for 2011

1. Make a resolution

Pretty anti-climatic, huh? I’ve never been one for resolutions to be honest.  However, a new passion that has sparked within my wife over the Christmas season has developed into her 2011 pet project, Project Seventh Day. And watching this new-found passion and motivation has really convicted me.

You always hear the saying, “Opposites attract.” And those two opposites are me and my wife. It has become a natural phenomenon in our household to look at each other and say, “How did we end up together?” We have completely different tastes in music (she likes country, I want to rip my eyes out with daggers when I hear country), different tastes in movies (I want the entire Scary Movie box set, she would rather punch me in the face), different tastes in reading material (she got a Kindle for Christmas, I got a Batman comic book), and so on, and so on. But, don’t get me wrong, our marriage is not in shambles. Remember, “opposites attract.” My wife and I really work together!

One of the biggest opposites that we come across more often than not is our difference in planning for the future. My wife does just that, she plans. She has spent weeks getting everything together for her new venture, Project Seventh Day. She has spoke to multiple people for ideas. Perfectly constructed a plan of action for carrying out the weeks of 2011. Bought a desktop calendar for our kitchen that has every thing written on it. All of this so she can plan and prepare for the future. If she doesn’t have any of that, then her life becomes chaotic and stressful…and so does mine. She functions on planning.

Then there is me. I believe the only thing I have ever planned for in my life was Halo 3 parties during college and skipping classes the next day because I was up all night schooling an 8 yr. olds on the meaning of “death by sniper.” I’m the guy who didn’t know where he was going to college when He graduated from High School, and only ended up at a college because his best friend and girlfriend were going there. I’m also the guy who woke up one July morning to a conversation on the phone from the administration office of my college to find out that my records were incorrect and I had actually finished all my hours in May. I was allowed to go to lunch as a college graduate that day. If my inability to plan for my future was diagnosable, it would be ADHDeriffic!

But, that is home for me. That is where I’ve always lived and feel most comfortable. I am comfortable with not planning, not know. But my wife, she lives in planning-ville. That is where she is most comfortable. And together, we really do work. For her, I bring that sense of spontaneity. The ability to not look into the future and expect every little detail to work out. The ability to take the crazy part of life that is happening unexpectedly, and enjoy the chaos at times. And for me, she brings the much needed responsibility of adulthood, and acting like adult in all aspect of life. The need for a vision and expectation of the future.

So when you look at our lists of resolutions, her’s is a mile long filled with important life-changing and life-bettering things (I really do encourage you to check it out. The entire concept is quite amazing and I am looking forward to all the benefits of her cooking!). And mine, well, I got bored after writing the number “1″ on my list. Yet, my wife and I, we really do work! I guess you could say that we are the poster children for “opposite attraction.”

By the way, I decided last night as I was watching TV that I am going to run a 5K. “Why,” you ask? … Well, why not!?!

Personally, I been a worship leader longer than…well, I ‘ve probably been a Christian, so I feel as though I have a pretty hefty foot in the door when it comes to the conversation of, “What is worship?” I been a part of many experiences in worship such as:

1. Two high school students leading worship for a youth group while only having one acoustic guitar between the two of them, and each one only knowing 2 songs.

2. 2 years of touring coffee shops in Texas, cutting two CDs, and asked to step aside from a gig because someone better came into town.

3. The emotional roller coaster and over-demanding, opinionated youth pastors during church camps.

4. Leading worship bands full of untalented middle/high school musicians/singers, with big hearts for the Lord (and big egos).

5. Adult contemporary Christian music cover band. Thank you Michael W. Smith for your contribution to the Christian music world.

6. Cultivating and integrating electronic/techno music into the Sunday morning church worship service.

7. Being asked not to come back to lead worship during the Sunday morning church worship service.

8. Creating and producing a techno Christian music CD.

9. Leading the congregation in an instrumental rendition of “Santa Claus is coming to town.”

10. Playing harmonies to “Heart of Worship” with a trumpet.

11. Trying to remember how the words, melodies and choruses go as the band plays the intro 4x longer as it is written.

And still, to this day, I find myself on a stage on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights asking people to join with me in song and hopefully, somewhere in the words and music encounter Jesus and have their life changed by his presence. It’s an interesting beast, worship. But I can only speak for myself  (as my wife pointed out to me so non-gently).

See, many years ago I found that I had developed a technical ear that overpowers an intimate heart. For a musician, worship (on Sunday mornings) is 80% performance and 20% hope, at least this is the case of me. There is preparation, decisions on what song fits with the sermon, listening to what’s popular on the radio, chord-charts, practices, run-throughs, a change in the song set when the pastor doesn’t like a particular song, making sure the sound boards is done right, amps, monitors, drumers, power points, lights, changing the song again when you find it is written for a girl,  sound, tuning, telling the other band mates their out of tune…and so on, and so on.

“Five minutes till the service starts,” the pastor says, and your expected to take hundreds of people who have fought to get to church with all three of their children, act as though life is okay when asked how things are going by an elder, and downing their fourth cup of coffee to take the edge off, and then, usher them to the throne of God in worship. At this point, the 80% of performance began with the set list, but the 20% of hope steps in and says, “I hope we don’t screw this up.” (That is usually the prayer the banding is offering when huddled around the drums before playing a note)

In my own personal walk with Christ, I find it near impossible to come close to God during the worship time, simply because I am listening to all those things, picking up on the “out-of-tune” instruments, noticing what singers are not turned up (on purpose), and watching how people respond to all the hard work that we have put into this morning’s service. Often times, I find myself watching other people with their hands raised, eyes closed, and singing at the top of their lungs; and I think to myself, “I wonder what they are thinking or feeling,” or  “I wonder what they have spiritually that I don’t.”

So, I have been actively exploring this subject lately in songs, churches, blogs, books, or whatever else there is out there. However, it was not until my wife laid down her “divinely-inspired” smack upside my head that I began to realize that I was over-looking a major aspect in worship.

It was a Saturday night, after preparing for the service the next morning and watching the clock count down to “show-time,” I turned to my wife before drifting off to sleep and said, “I am having trouble with the whole worship thing. I don’t know if I believe in it anymore. I just can’t get into it.”

After a very annoyed flop to the other side so she could face me in the dark, she said in disgust, “It’s not about you, Curtis! Some people find great intimacy with God during song. So, suck it up and get over yourself!” Followed by many Christian expletives (crap, freaking, etc.), another annoyed/frustrated flop to the other side, and a loud sigh that rattled the walls of the house.

“Wow!” I thought to myself. “My wife should be more obedient to her husband…psh!” But, then after pondering her words she spoke, I realized, she was right. To many people song is their expression of homage, or worship, to their God and King. Music strikes a certain chord within the heart and tugs at a particularly form of intimacy. Sure, it might be more of a performance for me, but the honor is found in being the tool for which God uses to grow closer with his people.

They may just be chord charts to me, but for other people, they are the foundation to an experience with a living Christ. There might be to many repeats and words to remember, but it is another’s opportunity to pay tribute and worship their savior, the one who set us free.

It’s not about me! It never really has been. And, you might not see me lift a hand, or shed a tear, during Hillsong’s “Came to the Rescue,” but I will do my best to prepare, plan and play my heart out so that you may experience Christ in a real way, so that you may draw close to Him in spirit and truth.

So when you come to church on Sunday, don’t stare at me with eyes that say, “I read your blog, and I know that you don’t believe in worship! I can’t believe you are up there and going to ‘lead’ me in worship.” Instead, stare at God on his throne, and forget about me. That truly is the heart of worship, it’s about Him, the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior of the world. And when you see me and band huddled around the drums praying before service about not screwing up the lyrics or missing any notes, that prayer is so that we can be a tool for you to draw close to God

…and so we don’t screw up. That’s just embarrassing.

< Disclaimer 2: my wife doesn’t cuss or use Christian expletives, and I am sorry for using such profound untrue statements. I hope she doesn’t read this.

Hero by Abandon

He walked the dirty streets. Famous for nothing.
He said “come follow me” and they came.
A face like all the rest.
But something was different.
The Son of God would lead the way.
And soon they all would say.

There He goes – a hero. A savior to the world.
Here He stands with scars in His hands.
With love He gave His life so we could be free.
The Savior of the world.

He spoke with clarity. Walked across the sea.
A single word would calm the storm.
His touch could heal the sick, but He was called a hypocrite.
Laid behind the stone. His death was shortly mourned. He left the curtain torn.

He choose to take the cross. Shed tears for the lost, the broken, and the needy.
Forgiving those who were and will be.
The angel made it clear. He told them have no fear.
He’s not here. He’s not here!

Now, when I first heard this song, I immediately tilted my head to the left and said, “Wow, what band was that?” Then, a few days later, I heard it again on the radio and thought to myself, “Man, that is pretty cool. I need to find out who this band is.” But, after a few weeks, I didn’t care about the name of the band any more.

The lyrics were beginning to do something to my heart (which I am pretty sure the writer intended to happen). Reread the chorus, “There He goes – a hero. A Savior to the world. Here He stands with scars in His hands.” It sounds crazy coming from someone who gets up in front of crowds from week to week leading people to worship and also, preaches the gospel, but it was almost as if I had completely forgot about what Christ did, and who Christ was.

I mean, sure, he bared my sin, I got that but after awhile it becomes very easy to simply say, “Out of sight, out of mind.” And throughout all of my ministry and all that I had going in life (that is supposedly for the glory of God), I had forgotten that this man is my hero, the Savior to the world.

I became the man in the crowd who was looking upon the death of Jesus, saying, “Well, just another day, just another man.” I had moved passed the cross and forgotten it. Yet, when hearing this song for the first time, it was as if I was being introduced to Jesus for the first time. It was a divine slap in the face.

And as I hear now, well…I want cry like a little girl. He is a hero. He has the scars to prove it. And those scars are my journey, my life. But even more so, “With love He gave His life so we (I) could be free.” We don’t move past the cross, we are firmly planted at it, in it’s grace and mercy.

So, for weeks, my heart is stripped to it’s barest form reminding me of when He first found me. When I hear this song, I cannot help but stop and weep for my hero. May you also be reminded of who Jesus is, and what he did for us…and join me in crying like a little girl.

I am ready for change.

This week marks the beginning of a change of seasons in more ways than one.  The weather is changing and Fall is in the air.  I am starting a new job and a new chapter in my time with Cohen.  Curtis and I have made some personal changes that we hope are going to reap fruitful results.  Things are changing!  Hopefully for the better.

We are coming out of a season that has been hard for our family.  But today I was reminded that even when we have been struck down, it is the Lord who raises us up and gives us new seasons of hope and refreshing.

Hosea 6 says:

“Come, let us return to the LORD; for he has torn us, that he may heal us;
he has struck us down, and he will bind us up.
After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up, that we may live before him.
Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD; his going out is sure as the dawn;
he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.”

Even when we don’t understand it, He give purpose to our suffering.  He heals where we are torn and he binds up where we are broken.  I want to press on to know that God.  I want to know the God who offers beauty for my ashes in an intimate way because I need that exchange!

The beginning of October always sort of marks the end of a year to me…like time is winding down on this particular calendar year.  This year has been hard.  But for the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful that things are changing for the better, and that I can dance in the showers of the Lord’s coming.

So like children with a new toy, my wife and I carefully changed diapers, gave bathes and played with Cohen, who didn’t do much but lay there and stare off into space dreaming of fairies and unicorns, as his mother and I pranced around like Christmas elves excited about the onset of Christmas urging a smile from him. And as Cohen continued to grow over the months, learning new things and beginning to recognize us when we enter the room, there was one thing that continued to bother me.

Throughout the sleepless night, the spitting up and 6 ft. projectile poop, every night when putting Cohen to bed, after saying our family prayer, I am struck with the fear and anxiety that comes from feeling absolutely helpless. Yet, I have to take a breathe…

As a father, I can pretty much make anything better for Cohen. If he is sad, I pick him up and tell him a joke. If he is scared, I can turn on a light. If he is having trouble sleeping, I can cuddle next to him and ease him to sleep. Yet, the one thing that I will never have the ability to control, the one thing that plagues my fatherhood is Cohen’s sin. I know, sounds cheesy and I know I am not the first to feel this way, but it is heart-wrenching!

I know that at some point in life, Cohen will have to make his own choice for or against Jesus. At some point Cohen will be confronted with a living, real God and be presented the opportunity to either repent of his sin and follow Christ or reject it. One day, Cohen will have to make his own choice whether or not to pursue God.

And though, I pray for God’s redeeming work in his life every day, there is still that lingering question in the back of my mind, “What if he rejects God?” Just the thought is haunting, and I have no control over that. I pray for a relationship with God that is life-changing and something so great my wife and I could never imagine; for God to captivate Cohen’s life in such a way that impacts every person he comes into contact with, for a faith that shakes the ground he walks on. Yet, that comes down to God and Cohen, not me.

So, every night, I close Cohen’s door after putting him to bed and cry, “Oh, please God…” As a father (and even a husband), the worse feeling that you can feel is helplessness, but it is within experiencing that heart-breaking feeling that God’s little whisper breaks through, “I already got this.”

“Okay… but what does that mean!?!”

I wish I could say that I am able to rest in the fact that God is working in Cohen’s life, but I still anxiously continue to pray, “God, save Cohen.” It is amazing knowing that God is already working in Cohen’s life, that God has already written Cohen’s life, and that God already knows what will happen the day they meet face to face. There is peace in that, but I will always leave his room at night crying, “Oh, please God! Only you can do this.”

Since being a father, this may be my biggest test of faith yet…

cyn·i·cal [sin-i-kuhl]

1. like or characteristic of a cynic; distrusting or disparaging the motives of others.
2. showing contempt for accepted standards of honesty or morality by one’s actions, esp. by actions that exploit the scruples of others.
3. bitterly or sneeringly distrustful, contemptuous, or pessimistic.

Okay, I’ll be honest, I am more than likely a self-proclaimed schizophrenic due to the mass amount of conversations that take place within the walls of my head between myself and the little voice we’ll just call Cyn. Often times, it’s humorous to listen to, other times its sad, or maybe even depressing; but, never the less, it is definitely entertaining. So I thought I might let you in on the conversation in a little piece I call, “A Conversation with Cyn.”

Cyn: Knock, knock…

Me: Busy! Go away.

Cyn: Well, don’t be such a party-pooper. Here, I will just finish it for you. Knock, Knock. Who’s there? Interrupting cow. Interrupting cow who…

Me: Please don’t finish that…

Cyn: MOO!

Me: joke!

Cyn: Well, now that I have your attention. I want to ask you a question.

Me: …

Cyn: Good, you’re listening. So, I was thinking the other day…which means you were thinking the other day…and I was wondering, do you think that everything is going to work out?

Me: What do you mean?

Cyn: What do you mean, “What do you mean?” You’ve been there. You’ve experienced it, too. You know what has been taking place. Life has stunk lately. Instead of lemons for lemonade, life has handed us … pomegranates and asked us to make a steak dinner.

Me: Steak dinner? Pomegranates? What are you  talking about?

Cyn: Look, you know and I both know that the past few months have been very difficult emotionally, financially, spiritually, and mentally. This is serious. The whole world is caving in on us, which I would guess is normal by this point. Shouldn’t we be freaking out?

Me: Well, sure. It’s hard, but we’ll make it through it. And by the way, mentally, I’m doing fine.

Cyn: Really!?! Is that why you are having conversations with yourself?

Me: …

Cyn: Now, I’m not trying to be a Debbie Downer or anything, but I just don’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. You said there would be a light at the end of the tunnel, but  where’s the light? Are we even in a tunnel? Is it a cave? It’s dark! I hear the echo of my voice. And, I may be a little scared, too! Maybe, a lot scared.

Me: Okay, settle down. Sure, we can’t see a light, and maybe the tunnel is dark. But it’s only temporary. We’ll make it through it.

Cyn: Something just touched my leg! I don’t think we are alone…

Me: Okay, you’re over reacting. The world is caving in on us. We’re just in a dark place right now, but it won’t be dark for long. We’ll get through this! Look, just hold my hand and I will walk you through this.

Cyn: I am holding your hand…ain’t I?

Me: I’m over here.

Cyn: Oh no…

Me: Look, I know that it is going to work out. It has to. And you freaking out isn’t helping. You’re starting to freak me out too, and you’re making it very hard to stay focused. So, just take a deep breath and relax. We’ll see the light soon.

Cyn: <breathes in> What’s that smell? Did you fart?

Me: No!

Cyn: Look, just accept the fact that it isn’t going to work out. We need to push the red button, the “Do Not Push” button. We should be at Def-Con Red! Emergency! Emergency!

Me: Okay, see that is what I am talking about. It’s not an emergency. Yeah, it’s dark and we’re scared but everything is going to be okay. My dad told me, “Take heart.” You know, just hold on. And we have to trust that.

Cyn: Did you hear that? Could it be a ghost! Maybe it was Ole’ Nessy! Maybe it was a leprechaun! Oh no, what if it was a leprechaun? I’m so scared.

Me: Wait, I see something up ahead. It kinda looks like there’s light up ahead. Come on, let’s go.

Cyn: It’s probably a train. Wait, what if it’s a train? Maybe we should stay here and wait for someone to come get us.

Me: You want to stay here with the leprechaun?

Cyn: So you admit it, there IS a leprechaun!?! I think I just peed a little…

Me: Look, you’re a big boy. Either stay here and wait for someone, or you can come with me and let’s check out what’s up ahead.

Cyn: Stay here with the leprechaun? No way. This is my only pair of underwear. I’ll take my chances with the train.

Me: Now, see that wasn’t a hard decision. Here, hold my hand and we’ll do this together.

Cyn: I though I was already holding your hand…ain’t I?

Me: No, I’m over here.

Cyn: Help…