The Odors Have Landed

An Update on the Life of the Odor Family, Part I.

I've realized over the past month that I've done a really crappy job of keeping my friends updated on what exactly is going on in our lives. This is an attempt to be a better friend by communicating more. Now I just need my friends to read it...

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Last August, after five amazing years in Cincinnati, our family (Judi, Jenna, Liam and I) moved to Wilmore, Kentucky. Judi had completed her Master of Divinity degree from Cincinnati Christian University (mine is still in progress) and applied to two Ph.D. programs. Asbury was our first choice, and when she received a generous financial aid package (to a program where only eight people a year get accepted), it seemed like God was pushing us out of Cincinnati, over the Big Water and into Kentucky.

This terrified me.

I had a great job at the Cincinnati Vineyard... fantastic people, fantastic church. I loved our house, I hadn't finished school, our kids were thriving, and my parents had just moved to the area. Why leave?

The answer, of course, was that I married a True Scholar and that we're in it together. So I started applying for jobs in the Wilmore/Lexington area. Over a 6-month period from February to August, I applied for everything that looked remotely plausible, and got no hits. Two good opportunities where I lost the job in the interview (more on that another time), quite a few "don't call us, we'll call you," and lots and lots and lots of nothing at all.

But we were sure this is where God was calling us. So on August 20th, 2010, I locked my office for the last time, turned in the key, and left my dream job. We spent the following week packing up, then rented the truck and drove back in time 50 years to small-town Kentucky. We moved into a little duplex that felt more like a dorm than a house. I put my resume in at all of the local temp agencies. And I prayed like crazy that we hadn't made a stupid mistake.



It's embarrassing how little I trust God (more on this another time).

Three-quarters of a year later, I can honestly say we've never had it so good. Judi is thriving at school; soaking up Biblical languages and doing more between the kids' bedtime and her own than some of her classmates do all day. Our kids are fantastic; seminary towns are filled with fertile young couples with similarly-aged kids (and Christian-college towns are full of amazing babysitters). The duplex has been perfect; I can imagine more but I don't need it. And my temporary gig has turned into something pretty amazing... I'm an Advanced Technical Specialist for a small engineering firm specializing in Mass Emergency Notification (more on this another time). But the best stuff is the fam. Daddyhood continues to be amazing, and Judi and my alliance has hit a whole new level. I feel like I've hit a new level with God, as well. There's a trust there now that I don't think I had a year ago. Thriving, baby. If this isn't what it feels like, it's close.



Short version? Life is beautiful. We miss our friends in Cincinnati (and elsewhere) and there is a part of me that wonders what life would look like if we were still there. But when I was in town last weekend for the CCU Small Groups Conference (more on that another time), I realized I couldn't imagine going back a year and NOT making this change. I have no idea what the future holds for us (seriously, I have absolutely no idea) but for now, we're safe and we've landed.

It's enough.

Don Miller's the Man

I'm kind of a fan.

I actually didn't start out as one (I was the only guy in the world who didn't love Blue Like Jazz) but I thought Searching For God Knows What is the most fantastic book that nobody's read.

And since then, I've been loving his blog. It's like you can see him growing in realtime. I'll be really curious to see what he's like at 50 instead of 40. In the meantime, Don's got this book you may have heard of... Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Check it out:

What story are you telling? from Rhetorik Creative on Vimeo.

The paperback releases today. Get your copy here, if you're into crass commercialism and owning physical copies of books (and hey, who isn't?):

Buy it on Amazon.

Don, if you're reading this, you might like this: Clicky.

Infovore

I haven't had much reading time in the past month, but have used almost every private moment this weekend to catch up on my overweight Google Reader feed. This is kinda fun, I thought:



You could make the case (and I have to myself) that I'm spending far too much time taking in and not enough time creating. Breaking Rule Number Nine, and all that. My only (poor) excuse is that my special project at work right now is really taking it out of me, but it will be over soon and I can go home to Tara. I mean, over soon and I have lots of things to write about.

I actually bought www.infovore.net, but haven't yet had the willpower to do anything exciting with it. For now, I feel good just catching up in Reader.

If you'd like to see the best stuff I've read recently, feel free to check my shared items:

http://www.google.com/reader/shared/micah.odor

Odor Theater

Sounds appealing, huh?

I lack the time to write right now, but I've made a goal to post every week at least. So instead of my witty reparte, you're getting some high-quality video from around the web.

Best non-OkGo music video I've seen this year:



Seems like it would be hard to train the people to walk up the walls like that. Impressive.

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Why We Can't Walk Straight:

A Mystery: Why Can't We Walk Straight? from NPR on Vimeo.

Reminds me of Winnie the Pooh, where they try to lose Tigger in the forest. Yeah, I'm a dad.

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Two Men Running:

Two Men from Dominic Allen on Vimeo.

Dooce said: "This short film could quite possibly be one of the most profound three minutes and fifty-four seconds you've ever spent watching video on the Internet."

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And finally, last but not least, Growing Is Forever.

Growing is Forever from Jesse Rosten on Vimeo.

It's interesting that everything interesting is on Vimeo, not YouTube.

There is a land...

There is a land shining with goodness where each man protects his brother's dignity as his own, where war and want have ceased and all races live under the same law of love and honor.

It is a land bright with truth, where a man's word is his pledge, where children sleep safe in their mother's arms and never know fear or pain. It is a land where kings extend their hands in justice rather than reach for the sword; where mercy, kindness, and compassion flow like deep water over the land, and men revere virtue, revere truth, revere beauty, above comfort, pleasure, or selfless gain. A land where peace reigns in the hearts of men, where faith blazes like a beacon from every hill, and love like a fire from every hearth, where the True God is worshiped and his ways acclaimed by all...

There is a golden realm of light, my son. And it is called the Kingdom of Summer.

For better or for worse, Stephen Lawhead's Pendragon trilogy has probably shaped my theology more than any book outside of the Bible. Lewis and Tolkien are giants, without a doubt. But Lawhead taught me to dream.

Resolve

It's the character trait I most admire in others and desire for myself. I'm flaky by nature and it's entirely too easy for me to start new things and not finish them (probably due to this). Which is why these words by one of my favorite authors have kept me up nights over the past two weeks:

I’ve been thinking about what I can resolve to do differently. There’s plenty I could name, but it’s the resolve that gets you, isn’t it? There’s a scene, towards the end of The Untouchables, when Jim Malone (Sean Connery), his body riddled with bullets, wheezes at Eliot Ness (Kevin Costner) through blood bubbling up from his mouth: “What are you prepared to do?”

Malone doesn’t ask Ness what he feels like doing, or what he thinks he might do. He doesn’t care about emotions, or reasoned probabilities. He’s seeking resolve. What are you prepared to do?

It’s worth asking ourselves, each of us alone, in the lonely night’s dark when bluster and delusion have left us, when the hard truths of our lives press in close as shadows. What are you prepared to do?

photo © 2010 Bohari Adventures | more info (via: Wylio)


I have a lot of new resolutions this year, but per Mr. Miller I'm not going to share them. Instead, I'm going to share two new additions to my wall at work. They're the only thing hanging on my walls besides a picture of my smoking hot wife.

The first is the somewhat tongue-in-cheek-but-not-really Manifesto of the Cult of Done.

1. There are three states of being. Not knowing, action and completion.
2. Accept that everything is a draft. It helps to get it done.
3. There is no editing stage.
4. Pretending you know what you're doing is almost the same as knowing what you are doing, so just accept that you know what you're doing even if you don't and do it.
5. Banish procrastination. If you wait more than a week to get an idea done, abandon it.
6. The point of being done is not to finish but to get other things done.
7. Once you're done you can throw it away.
8. Laugh at perfection. It's boring and keeps you from being done.
9. People without dirty hands are wrong. Doing something makes you right.
10. Failure counts as done. So do mistakes.
11. Destruction is a variant of done.
12. If you have an idea and publish it on the internet, that counts as a ghost of done.
13. Done is the engine of more.

The other is a quote from Calvin Coolidge, 30th President.

Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.

The character trait I resolve to build this year?

Resolve.

Things I Don't Ask God For

I don't ever pray that I'll meet the woman of my dreams. I never ask God to someday give us two amazing children, or to help me find a job to feed and clothe them, or for a roof to put them under.

photo © 2009 Leland Francisco | more info (via: Wylio)

I don't ask for these things because I already have them.

This isn't meant as a boast, and it's not a statement against prayer by any means. It's just a simple observation: we don't ask for things we already have. It's not limited to God, really. You don't ask your boss for $10 an hour when you're already making $12. You don't ask your prof for another chance to take a test you aced. It just makes sense... you only ask for what you don't have.

So why did Jesus tell us to ask that God's will be done?

I have heard Christians say many times "Well, this terrible thing happened, but that must be God's will." And I always want to jump in and ask "How do you know?"

"Well, it must be God's will because it happened."

If whatever happened was automatically God's will, then what exactly is it we're supposed to be asking for?

I know from firsthand experience that God's will isn't always done. I know it because sometimes God's will is for me to be a better husband/father/friend/citizen, and I'm not. Forget tsunamis and cancer for a moment (but not for too long, we'll come back to that) and just think about yourself. Have you ever acted in a way that was contrary to God's will? If so, then isn't God's will not being done?

If they really sit down and think about it, what most people mean by "God's will is always done" is "No matter how bad something is, God can find a way to turn it for good." Absolutely true. God is the ultimate salvager who can take our nastiness and use it for something beautiful. But that's not because he enjoys nastiness.

The right response to the frequent utter brutality of our world isn't "Oh, this horrible thing must be God's will and design for your life, so start looking for the good in it or else get used to the fact that you really suck at being spiritual."

The right response is to acknowledge that awful things are awful, and to recognize how much the pain of our world hurts God himself. The right response is to recognize that there are things, good things, that can happen in the midst of horrendous pain. And the right response is for us to ask God to make things right, and for us to be available to be the ones he works through.

NOTE: The photo was found by putting the word "prayer" into wylio.com. You should check it out... it's a very cool website built by the best college roommate I ever had.