I Don't Miss My Addiction

It's been more than 3 weeks since I swore off Facebook. I've only been on to check the church site, and once changed my profile picture to support Chik-Fil-A Appreciation Day. Other than that, I've kept to my vow to remain Facebook free for 30 days, and then decide where to go from there.

No need to wait. I've made up my mind. In the last 23 days I have:

-Slept better
-Read two books
-Finished my work early
-Spent more time with my son
-Lost 7 pounds
-Endured less stress about trivial matters
-Felt no need to let the whole online world know I just had a pancake for breakfast

I once had a dentist tell me that if you can get used to flossing for two straight weeks, you will make it a habit. I suppose that's true for just about anything you want to accomplish. Being without Facebook for over three weeks has been an absolute joy. No doubt, the first week or so was tough, but looking back now I can hardly believe how much time I was wasting and mental energy I was expending. I was truly trapped, and that's a very hard thing to admit. 

So I'm done with Facebook. And it feels good. God has taught me that I can accomplish a lot more on my knees talking to Him than arguing with the world from a keyboard.

The world will just have to assume I'm having pancakes for breakfast. And they're probably right.

May I Just Say... Yum?

Someone, somewhere, on some blog I recently read had a very interesting essay on the identities we create online. I'm not talking about some idiot stalker who pretends to be someone he or she is not, but rather how we can mold or shape our own identities into who we would like to be; who we would like others to think we are. Are we truly honest with others, and to a larger extent, with ourselves now that social networking has shrunk the world even smaller?

Years ago I worked for an "oldies" radio station where I created my own on-air persona just for fun. I had our listeners absolutely convinced that I was the world's biggest fan of Bobby Darin. We played it up, too. We raised money for charity by urging listeners to have me sing "Mack the Knife" on the air. I would always introduce Bobby as the "Undisputed King of Rock n' Roll." Bobby's official web site dubbed me, "The Most Dedicated Darin Fan Ever." We even built a Bobby Darin shrine in the studio lobby. A pregnant listener swore she was going to give birth to her baby there. I don't know why. She didn't.

A few years later, I moved on to a country station, where I supposedly fell in love with Sara Evans. I made it an on-air quest to meet her, which I finally did when I bought myself backstage into a meet and greet that lasted all of 30 seconds. I got front row tickets to another concert where I wore a t-shirt that read, "Yes, My World Really Does Revolve Around Sara Evans." And to our listeners, it probably seemed that way.

As a Youth Pastor, it was Mark Schultz. Don't even get me started on that one. My youth group must have known human videos to nearly every song he recorded.

But here's the thing. Those "identities" really did creep into my personal life. I have more Bobby Darin, Mark Schultz, and Sara Evans CD's, photos, autographs and assorted stuff than I know what to do with. I still listen to Bobby and Sara regularly. It's hard to let go of the fun of it all, even though I'm officially retired from radio.

So is it any wonder that now, in this vast world of social networking, there's a whole new identity? Really, I didn't expect the pancake thing to take off like it did. A certain someone we'll call "The Drama Queen Who Shall Not Be Named" tacked the nickname "Pancake Head" on me. Not very original I know, but it's the best she could do. I suppose it was easier to spell that "Pancake Connoisseur." At any rate, the identity stuck, and here I am. Problem is, like Bobby and Sara, I've adopted the identity. I've come up with more odd ways to cook a pancake than Bobby Flay has to barbeque a hot dog. And you know what? That's okay. It really is. You see, when I die I hope people gather around my ashes before my wife sprinkles them off the top of the White River Lighthouse and say, "You know, Pastor Tim was a hoot. He sure enjoyed a good pancake, didn't he?" And then they'll laugh. I hope they laugh heartily.

That, my friends, would be an awesome legacy.

Why Not IHOP Instead?

I really don't like dreaming.

I don't get the funny little dreams about flying, walking around school in my skivvies, or being back together with a long-lost love where everything is sunshine and roses. No... I dream about making french fries at a fast-food restaurant. I don't even eat there, and it's not because of the greasy food, either. No, this is just another in a series of those nutty dreams I have because I'm trying to improve my life, and fear tries to rule the day.

We had our first intercessory prayer meeting at church last night, and I prayed for the strength to lose the weight I've recently gained back. It's been a struggle all my life, but I had it under control for a number of years. Well, I tried to fit into my favorite suit coat (which I wear about twice a year) last Sunday, and... nothing doing. That baby wasn't even close to being buttoned. That was a wake-up call. So I asked my friends for prayer, and to join with me in believing I can conquer this nasty demon once again.

So what happens? I dreamed that I was hired at a greasy fast food joint, working the fryer. I had some sort of weird teenage co-worker who took orders from the drive thru, while I filled the bags. Most of the time I had to go track him down and tell him there was a car in the drive-thru, because he was in a back room watching television. One of the orders was even returned undercooked. I didn't do it, by the way. I was in charge of the greasy fries.

Anyway, our "restaurant" also had an exercise program. It was part of some winter contest to see whose business could lose the most weight. Our place was working in teams. Of course, I was paired with the lazy co-worker, who wouldn't exercise. So, I munched on a sugary peanut butter cookie instead. Nice.

So hopefully, I'm awake now... although I fear I'm having a dream within a dream again, and I'm going to wake up to find all this typing was useless. But if I am truly awake, then I have conquered the first hurdle of the morning: Breakfast! I had a dry piece of fat-free wheat toast and a bowl of corn flakes with skim milk. Now I'm off to the gym to walk a mile or two, and then I'll head to work to consume large quantities of coffee with fat free creamer.

The pancakes will have to wait.