Dancing in the Dark

The ABBA-evoking piano swells in the background as Arcade Fire lead singer Win Butler sings out in a staccato groove "Every room in my house is full of s--- I couldn't live without out." The juxstaposition is pronounced. There is trump and tragedy in Butler's declaration. The music makes you want to dance while the words make you want to make you mourn the consumerism that has swallowed culture whole.

That's Everything Now in a nutshell. Musically Arcade Fire continues to dance in the direction they started with previous release Reflektor. And the lyrics rummage through the complicated, broken world. There are moments that touch on a darkness the band hasn't hit since Neon Bible. Of course, Arcade Fire is not the first band to sing about the darkness while trying to dance. They won't be the last either, but this band is talented enough that it makes for an interesting, rewarding, if not perfect listen.

Wrestlepalooza

Dusty: Welcome back to Wrestlepalooza א! Joe, this event has been nonstop, bone-crushing action!

Joe: That’s right, Dusty. The crowd is still going bonkers after the Nephilim destroyed EVERYONE in the Steel Cage Match!

Dusty: Well, those half-human, half-angel giants are not to be messed with! But even that catastrophic beatdown will be nothing compared to the upcoming Main Event!

Joe: That’s right! It’s Jacob “The Heel” Isaacs versus his brother Esau “The Red Storm” Isaacs! These two have a history and it’s full of bad blood.

12 Years

Words will fail here. I should get that out of the way at the start. Whenever I write something, I always feel like someone who underestimated the distance of a jump, but only realized it midair. But I know that these words are never going to cross the gap. It's not possible.

12 years ago, EA and I were married and time has done a weird thing. It doesn't feel like we have been married for that long, but at the same time, it's hard to remember a time before EA was in my life. A dozen years doesn't seem that long ago. 2005 doesn't seem like it was eons in the past. Then I remember that 12 years before I started falling for this woman, I was seven years old just like our oldest son is now.

In Darkest Night

"They told me this tale. A story about a creature that was born at the beginning of sentience. A yellow entity that was made of living fear. It created terror into anything it came in contact with. Caused entire civilizations to destroy themselves out of paranoia. Their fear was eaten by this creature....

[It] threatened to consume the entire universe. It wanted to infect every living creature with fear, and fear leads to violence. Violence leads to fear. Like an endless loop of death and destruction."
-from Green Lantern: Rebirth #3 by Geoff Johns

Still With Me

"Oh Lord, You have searched me and known me."

That can be a terrifying statement. It seems pretty innocuous at first. God has searched us and known us. That's what God does; knowing is one of the things the Divine just does. But then I consider the reality of God searching and knowing me. Not the front that I put up. Not the version of myself with my best foot forward. Not Writer Chris. Not Youth Minister Chris. Not even Husband or Father Chris. Sure all of those are part of me.

But the me that God has searched and known contains a tangle of insecurities, failures and screw-ups too numerous to mention, a heart that wants to follow God, but often veers from that path in a single beat. I read that first verse and sometimes I am flooded with every mistake I've made, every person I've hurt, every bit of myself that I wish were better in some way and I feel like the stoner at high school who feels nervous when the drug dogs come around. Please God, don't search me.

Death and All of His Friends

Earlier today, the oldest and I were riding in a car to an appointment. He was having a rough morning of his own doing and I wanted him to get re-grounded before we set off on the day. So I plugged in my phone and I played the Coldplay song "Strawberry Swing." I told him the story about how this was the song that his mom and I listened to when we brought him home from the hospital and it will always be one of my favorites because it reminds me of how lucky we are to have him. In the span of 4 minutes and 10 seconds, his entire demeanor brightened and we were ready to take on the day.

The song after that is "Death and All of His Friends." It's probably been a year or two since I've heard this song, but the escalating refrain at the end has been in my head all day long:

I don't want to battle from beginning to end
I don't want a cycle of recycled revenge
I don't want to follow death and all of his friends

Say Their Names (Luke 16:19-31)

My name is William Christopher Cox. The William is after my dad who goes by Bill, my Granddad who also goes by Bill—which, side note: my granddad’s name is Bill Williams and it absolutely blew my six year old mind when I figured out that his name was William Williams—and also my dad’s maternal grandfather. The Christopher in my name is because I was born in the early 1980s and it was federal law at the time that every fifth male child born in the United States would be named Christopher. Seriously, though, part of the reason my mom and dad gave me that name is because of what it means. Anyone who has rifled through those name bookmarks at Cracker Barrel can tell you that Christopher means “bearer or follower of Christ.” Faith has always been important to my family and my parents put that value into my very name.

There are bits and pieces of our parents and their histories in the name of myself and my siblings. My brother Taylor shares a middle name with my dad and his first name is a tribute to the South Carolina town where my parents met, fell in love, and served in a church. My sister Shari is named because it is a combination of Sharon and Mary—our two grandmothers—and her middle name Katherine is our mom’s name. We have the legacy of our parents’ lives in our very names, but it is remixed and rearranged into something that is unique. 

Dance

For one night, a rustic camp dining hall was turned into a dance club. Flashing lights pulsated and a smoke machine filled the room. Every few songs, a group of teenagers poured outside for a break. It was an unusually cool evening for June and, even by the campfire, the night air allowed for a brief recharge before the bass line of a favorite song compelled them to come back in. While the students were by the fire, they recruited.

"Chriiiiiiiiiiissssss, come in and daaaaaaaance."

I don't dance. Not because of some grand moral stance. I would love to dance. Or at least I think I would. No, the problem is I am a white guy from South Carolina who was raised Baptist. I have tripped other people doing the Electric Slide. Unfortunately, dancing for me is peak awkwardness for an individual that already feels pretty darn awkward most of the time. I discovered recently that I am a 9 on the Enneagram and dance avoidance is a classic example of preserving my inner calm.

And I kind of hate that, because dancing looks like so much fun.

Together

My headspace is a complicated place right now. Today is Pentecost; the day we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. It's considered by many to be a sort of birthday for the Church. It reminds us of the ties that bind the disparate threads of Christianity together. We all started in that room.

At the same time, I'm processing another terror attack in London. Whenever something like this happens, it splinters everyone into factions. There are people saying we need to profile minorities more. Folks use the attack as a catalyst to argue certain political platforms. There individuals aghast at all of this and saying we need to pull together and others calling those people snowflakes. Such an atrocity divides, strikes fears, incites rage, and all of that is exactly the goal of such an evil act.