Stop comparing yourself to anyone.

I’m not saying if you want to be rich not to read Dr. Stanley’s books about millionaires. I’m not condemning anyone that sets goals, but I am saying that you are where you are because of nature and nurture. You are not an accident, and when you surf Facebook at the others who are “more” successful” than you then you sabotage your own success and happiness.

There will always be someone “better”, “richer”, “in better shape” and “better looking” than you. This is what you call narcissism, and it gets you no where.

I know because I battle this on a daily basis, but I’ve also spent the last decade coming to peace with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and who he has made me to be. I don’t settle for status quo, but I don’t beat myself up over some perceived Daniel Tomlinson life “failure.”

Bridges burn. Divorce happens. People become millionaires. Friends succeed. Family rejects you. You get a large inheritance from a deceased relative. Spend it wisely. A thousand things happen every day, and we over analyze it a plethora of times a day. We re-live the past like we eat lunch every day, but where the hell does it get us? Precisely.

Comparison was Satan’s primary weapon with Jesus when he tempted him in the desert. Jesus knows how you feel. He knows the pull of materialism, lust and power. He stared down the evilest of evil ones, and he won.

He will win again through us as we come to experience day after day his unconditional love for us.

Jesus loves us. He doesn’t love our money, muscle or mind. Those things are fleeting.

Get over them.

And if you can’t. Please get professional help. And also, I don’t post on here just to post. If you ever need a listening ear please don’t hesitate to contact me. I’m not a professional counselor, but I care about people, and my pastoral background and life long struggle with depression makes me a good candidate to practice the presence of Christ as others have done for me.

Grace and peace.

I’ve started some new year’s resolutions this year, and I am adding one. I will not use expletives in my posts any more. I’m not doing it because of my pastor or my mom, but I am doing it because God has convicted me through my mom and pastor that even when my clinical depression displays symptoms of angry outbursts I need to be using words that build others up and give them hope.

I’m not binding this on you, and I’m not loosing you to use expletives. That’s between God, you and your circle of influence.

Much of this thinking has originated, not from my pastor and mom, rather it has come from my meditation on The Message version of James 1:2-8. Here that is in its entirety.

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.

So, my very dear friends, don’t get thrown off course. Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures.

I usually don’t provide Scripture because it is available in your own Hebrew text, Greek text, translation or paraphrase, but Dr. Peterson’s The Message paraphrase really touched me deeply. It spoke into other areas of my life that I will write about later.

Thank you one and all for following my drivel, and I trust that as I journey through my life and blog that you will draw closer to God.

Have a great week.
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I suppose that’s why I followed the example of a fellow blogger out in Oregon whose name is Storie. She calls her blog The Real Storie, and when I resurected my blog I called mine The Real Daniel. To be real is to have deep and redemptive content to post, and it’s in that vain that Storie and I offer what we offer. God is glorified in that offering, and you our readers are drawn closer to Jesus Christ, the most real One forever.

In Him we live and move and have our being.

I’m pausing this night reflecting on the chronic struggle I have with depression. I was with my daughter tonight at a birthday celebration, and I was sitting at a table listening to a man mistreat a young girl for being homeschooled. When he finished with his ignorant line of questioning he asked the girl if he could grade some of her papers, and I leaned over to her, and I told her not to let him because of his dumb questions. I should have kept my mouth shut. She was doing fine without me.

One problem with my depression is a bi-polar condition that creates an inappropriate amount of anger that flies past my frontal lobe before I realize what I just said or did I should not have said or done. What a “blessing” God has beset me with. It’s a cross.

The homeschool girl left our table, and I thought I’d add something to my little self-righteous monologue. I quote the real daniel.

She’ll be your cardiologist 10 years from now about to cut you open, and she’ll look down at you on the operating table, and say, “Remember me? I’m the homeschool girl.”

I’m so bright my dad calls me son. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I’m pretty sure King David, Joseph and Jesus battled depression. I’m in good company, and even when I write myself off my God is not done with me.

After I said that to him you could cut the tension with a knife. I was right, but being right is wrong sometimes, and I completely crossed the line.

I was getting on to my daughter for “crossing the line” moments earlier, and there I was guilty through and through of the very thing I was trying to sell my daughter on. Long sigh as I draw in some coffee and Kahlua.

Thank you Hillsong United for reminding me again for the thousandth time that He does indeed hold me now.

Here I stand arms opened wide…-Hillsong United

Your prayers are always welcomed. I love you each and every one even when I’m a jerk.

I thought it might give me more clarity about my family of origin. It didn’t except that it showed me what Rich Like Espresso, my own memoir, will not be like.

It also made me think about the last post I put on here. Like Allen in the book, my post was poorly written, it brought no closure, and it’s randomness was dizzying.  There was not continuity, and I think Kimberly was right. It should have been a blog post.

At some point you have to stand on your own two feet, and accept that God has empowered us to create a new life apart from our family of origin. I’m not saying Mr. Allen hasn’t done this, but part of my reflections for myself after reading his book made me think about it for my own life.

I don’t blame Mr. Allen for leaving the Church of Christ. When we recently left the Church of Christ we worshiped with for 10 years we visited other denominations, but we decided on another Church of Christ here in Nashville. That’s not because we think or ever thought we are the only ones going to Heaven. That’s not because we think instrumental music is wrong. It’s because we made some relationship connections that supersede other doctrinal issues. There are doctrinal issues that we believe are commandments from God, but to borrow from Landon Saunders.

If God decides to to take a break on judgement day and step down from the throne I will not volunteer to get up there to take His place.

I don’t know who said it, but I like the following sentiment.

We are trying to be Christians only, but we aren’t the only Christians.

I respect Mr. Allen’s courage for being so vulnerable, and working hard to self-publish Growing Up Church of Christ, but self-published works should be taken just as seriously as a work published by a big publishing house. In this world of mobile phone, texts and emails there is no excuse for poorly written reflections when editors, ghost writers and successful self-published authors of every genre are available. Sure, it might cost money, but if you are going to put something out there for public consumption than I think it should be good.

Dan Poynter’s Self-Publishing Manual list the following authors who self-published.

Mark Twain, Zane Grey, Upton Sinclair, Carl Sandburg, James Joyce, D.H. Lawrence, Ezra Pound, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Stephen Crane, Mary Baker Eddy, George Bernard Shaw, Edgar Allen Poe, Rudyard Kipling, Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman, Robert Ringer, Spencer Johnson, Richard Nixon, John Grisham, Tom Peters, Stephen King, Ken Blanchard, L. Ron Hubbard and many, many more. (pg. 37)

Writing is hard work if you want to do it well, and I also think that when you write a memoir it has to reflect the arduous journey the subject went through, and how they overcame it to have success on the other side.

It can’t just berate those who mistreat me. It has to show what I learned from it. How I became a better person for it, and what I contributed to society and the world after it was over. A memoir or biography is never really over unless of course the person is deceased, but it does show what television network ABC’s Wide World of Sports coined, “…the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat.” A book is formed in between those things, and people are given hope that what they are going through is not the final word.

He does care about drawing us closer to Himself.

Leaders are fired in the name of something other than Jesus, and disenchanted laymen journey across town to worship inside four different walls, and yet somehow Jesus is still with them. I guess that’s what makes it easy and light. He never said it would make sense, except that He would never leave us or forsake us.

I hope the unbelievers we intersect with day after day pick up on The Presence. I pray my jaded attitude about the church from California to New York is hidden, and that when I exercise my skill of hypocrisy or just plain Taylor Swift meanness that they will forgive me quickly, and that if they cannot that they find someone who embodies Christ better because I know they are here and model their walk in Christ by watching them.

My friend Landon Saunders speaks about Transitoriness, and it simply means that life brings with it a reality of transitory experience. We strive and strive day after day to create stability, continuance and relationship. Transitoriness empowers us to see that all these things we value as much as oxygen are passing, and one day the struggle we fight between flesh and the unseen will cease because the supernatural unseen will be a reality we can fully embrace.

Worship in any form enables us to a small degree to experience this supernatural unseen. It is not a melodramatic spectacle made for entertainment consumption, but it is an engagement with the God who brings life.

Real change, lasting change and true stability comes out of worship.

Stop looking around. Care less about what people think, and care more about what God thinks.

You cannot do anything you set your mind to doing. Priorities demand your attention, and you are responsible for numbering them. If you have too many priorities then something has to give.

None of us is omnipotent. I love my friend Paul Fox, and I dedicate this post to him because he taught me that we can swing for the fence every time, but we aren’t going to hit a home-run every time we do. So let’s get real with ourselves and others, and settle for a base hit.

Jesus cannot love us more or less than He already does.

Accept it. Believe it. Live it.

In this picture I’m wearing a Superman shirt, and a crucifix. My thoughts this morning came around to why I put these on. S does in fact stand for Superman on this Target t-shirt I got for my birthday, but when I see it as a background for the Cross I see it standing it for Supernatural. What happened at Golgotha was Supernatural.

When my family and I left this morning we were not treating each other with much loving kindness. Grant it, one of us is seven, and she is not a morning person. I dropped her off at school first. As we headed down Granny White to the Vanderbilt area to drop my better-half off at work we held hands in silence as we listened to cheesy Christian radio.

I think that little seven-year-old comes about her night owl status honestly because her parents have to drag themselves out of bed too. I got home to make some espresso, and as it’s brewing I sit down in a chair that puts you to sleep as I try to read my Bible. I ended up going to sleep. What a surprise. When I finally joined the land of the living I prepared my espresso, but I take it to our bedroom. I place it on my nightstand, and I lay down with no resolve to sit up and down it. Needless to say, I was exhausted this morning.

Two hours later I join the living again, and I thanked God for that ice cold espresso sitting on my nightstand, and I down the doppio. I was famished because I had two sugary pop-tarts on the way to school and work, and my head was hurting. I sit down with some chicken lasagna. I was feeling unusually fat, so I only had one helping.

A thousand things began to swarm through my mind as I dealt with a flood of anxiety at my imperfect world, and I was driven to prayer and my Father began to speak to me in that storm. I’m glad I read the Bible this morning. It most certainly brought my Savior closer to mind. He can speak when we don’t read the Bible, but for those of us who struggle with the natural course of things we become more aware of the Supernatural in our path.

My Father walked with me as I spoke with Him in our home. My prayers surrounded the “urgent” needs that are on my plate, but as I turned to Him in His knowledge and wisdom He gently whispered to me I was put at ease that this God is love, and He listens to me above all the distractions that come at me 24/7.

It’s Supernatural, and how it works I don’t know, but I know it does. Why it works I can only assume that when I sing Jesus Loves Me that the song is true. And I bow in thanks that though I may see Him as a cosmic Santa Claus He still listens and delivers. He wants a relationship more than that of a child and Santa, but He accepts me even when my prayers take on a Dear Santa form.

I look through my closet at the shirts I have, and I see the Superman shirt my daughter gave me, and it occurred to me that the Supernatural way was born on the Cross, and because of the Virgin Birth, the Cross and the Resurrection I’m empowered to live at the Supernatural level.

You can’t buy that at Macy’s, and you’ll never find it at the North Pole.

Grace and peace.

All of us are God’s children, and we are doing the best we know to do with what we have been given. Extend the hand of mercy and grace to everyone. It’s even more pertinent that we do this this time of year.

I think that’s part of what makes this country great. We have a strong sense of family be that miles separate us, yet when the rubber meets the road we will place all things aside to spend our greatest asset, namely time, to be with our families. There is no substitute. I realize success is relative. When you have it the relatives come. But that’s not the point. You can have a 10k sq. ft. home packed with family, but the same thing can happen in a 1500 sq. ft. home.

Time is of the essence. Bling is optional.

There’s nothing wrong with bling, and I am as much a fan of the Swan’s house as I am of the Cullen’s house, so I’m not condemning my rich friends. In fact, I’ll be over tomorrow for a glass of Trader Joe’s cheap merlot. Cheap in price.

My point here is that in the hustle and bustle of our comings and goings lets not get too big headed or materialistic to forget that the point is time, conversation and smiles. None of us stands to fall before each other, so let’s leave the condemnation to the One who is rich in mercy.

Grace and peace this Christmas and New Year.

I do get to clean another home that is just as beautiful close to my alma mater, and so I am thankful to God for this blessing.

The negative always outshines the positive in our world. That’s just life. That’s the nature of the beast. That’s the way the cookie crumbles. Here is a picture of our china cabinet, and for days I’ve obsessed over the fact that the third shelf is darker than the top two shelves. The light is not reaching as much of the bottom shelf as the top two shelves. I was finally able to see the beauty of what Carey did to the china cabinet tis the season, and the dark shelf below was less of an obsession.

A thousand things a day go wrong, but so many things go right. I know it’s hard, but try to think and dwell on those things that are good. That seems funny coming from a man who fights clinical depression, but let me just say that whatever it takes do what is legal to focus and concentrate on the good things of life. I’m not going to begin to tell you what that is because God communicates with each of us in vastly different ways, but I know one thing. He is powerful enough to deliver you from the demons you battle, and if you think demons and angels don’t exist well I pray God educate you about your ignorance.

Our struggle is not against flesh and blood my friend. Begin with your mind, and from there tell me if your life doesn’t concentrate more on the positive.

Grace and peace.