The Man in Me

As I have celebrated four years with my amazing wife, I have been considering and mulling over in what's left of my brain, the entire institution of marriage. When I call my wife amazing, I try my hardest not to merely pay lip service to her. That's just disrespectful. But, I do mean "amazing." I have put her through the ringer, and yes, I do take a considerable amount of, rightful -- credit for her emotional devastation. She, partnered with Jesus -- takes a lot of credit for stressing me out, giving me migraines, and day by day -- growing my immature ass up.

So, the question begs to be answered, "Who gives a fuck?" You don't, probably. I know I didn't, which is precisely the reasoning behind all the consideration of this institution of marriage. I also take pause to notice that all my buddies are either divorced, separated, or seriously considering divorce. The other interesting part, and the reason I actually give a shit, is that all these dudes are professing "Christians." This is troubling because there's this thing about Jesus that in a two-handed fashion bothers me and brings me peace. It's this fact that Christ gets in the shit with you as a Christian. Once you say "Jesus, I trust you," Jesus says, "A'ight, let's do this thing." This is regardless of all your dysfunctional bullshit that keeps coming up. I, personally, have a gigantic laundry list of stupid bullshit that Jesus is still dealing with. He endlessly, tirelessly, relentlessly pursues me and gets into it with me. This is not something I have pursued. Time and time again I have shouted "Fuck you, dude," and got outta dodge. Then He shows up, tells me He knows my shit, and he's gonna keep on walking with me.

This has astronomical implications on the state of marriage. Seriously? Five years and you're out? When Margie and I started this thing, I really had no idea how this was going to play out. Mainly because, I had/have so many bat-shit-crazy issues. I was always wondering how Christ was going to redeem this mess, but he is. He's teaching me how to love my wife. I still suck at it, but he's taking me through it. If you're a christian man, your wife is probably put there by God to teach you a bunch of shit you suck at, which is probably everything.

I'm troubled by dudes who proclaim Christ and abandon their wives. My dad did that. I'm scared shitless that I'm going to do that. I need Jesus to help me stick around and be a better husband. I need so much grace, and constantly.

I'm troubled for my brothers and myself.

San Francisco

A little over two months ago as Margie and I were cleaning out the rental home we lived in to move to Olympia with my parents out of necessity because I had been laid off for the millionth time in my life from a job that I hated, I had this creepy feeling in my gut..."What if this is it?" I said to myself. "What if my life has been resigned to bouncing around from job to job, town to town and my poor undeserving wife gets to come along for the ride?" This has been a haunting idea for a long time.

About a year ago, a good friend of mine advised me to move to California. I thought, in one of my few and far between moments of pure and unblemished snobbery, told him that the idea of moving to California is cliche and generic as I facetiously asked him if he would be willing to consider my bourgeoning screenplay idea. He then replied, "No, you should seriously consider San Francisco, you cocksucker." So, I began the asinine process of consideration. I thought through the pros and cons, "Well, it's not Seattle, that's a downside...um...there's a great deal of sun but it's a lot more expensive and about three times as crowded as Seattle..." At the end of thinking this thing through, I was still living in Olympia with my parents working construction with my step-dad attempting to go into business with him so we can have one big happy mormon compound in Rainier, Wa stockpiling food storage and guns. Although this neo-depressionist/pre-apocalyptic idealism was very enticing, there was an element to it that made me lose all hope for the future. So my wife and I had a very brief conversation. I asked her what she thought about San Francisco and in not so many words she said "Sure!"

Then on a whim, I began applying for various editorial internships in the bay area. One was for a semi-traditional copy-editing internship for a local weekly. The banality of that sort of job was very enticing to me. They contacted me for a phone interview and I bombed it. The other was for an internet start-up web 2.0/new journalism company that I wasn't crazy about, they contacted me for a phone interview. I nailed it. They scheduled a second phone interview. I nailed that one as well. Then they scheduled an expense paid interview in San Francisco after which they revealed the name of the company that was funding this start-up project. Then I became very excited about this prospect, but nonetheless I was very doubtful about the likelihood of my actually having a chance at getting said position. At the very least, I looked at it as a free vacation for my wife and I. So we made arrangements to drive our car to San Francisco, stay in an affordable boutique hotel in Downtown San Francisco and hang out for a week. It was an amazing experience. Never in our 3+ years of marriage have we ever rolled into a city (Note: we've collectively lived in Virginia Beach, Norfolk, Portland, Seattle, Burlington, VT, LA, SLC & Boston) and looked at each other and said "Holy Shit!" It just clicked. We made adventures to J-town, Chinatown, The Mission, The Wharf, Balboa, Golden Gate & SoMA. This was OUR city. There was this sense of belonging. We felt like ourselves. We felt stripped of all these cultural things that were expected of us and for a few moments we felt like humans again and not like ants in an assembly line. It was a liberating feeling.

Day two of our stay in San Francisco, I went in for the on-site interview and after stressing myself to the point of nausea, they offered the internship to me. I gladly accepted and agreed to be in San Francisco by the beginning of September. In addition, I'll be starting school at the end of August to finally finish my degree and to hopefully get our life started, FINALLY.

In christian circles, they say things like "I feel like I've been called to..." or "I feel led to..." but I feel those words are thrown around too much and have subsequently lost their meaning. I don't feel a sense of call, to be honest I'm not sure what that really means. In my experience, all that a "call" has represented is a justification from the divine for people to just do what they want to do. I want to take care of my wife. I want to be in a position to start a family with my wife and I want to raise that family in a diverse, major city. I have no idea what the future holds, all I know is that on August 10th, my wife and I are moving to San Francisco.

P.S. this blog post remains vague because I am contractually obligated to do so

Left and Leaving: A Confession

It seems as though I'm always departing from or going to some place. Usually, it's because I have devastated the tranquility that comes with "living" somewhere through my selfish pursuits. This has, for a long time, been the pursuit of art in all it's many forms. It's not only art that I've pursued, but the idyllic posture of being involved and living in the culture of those who create. Then I got married.

In 2004, I started dating Margie. At this point in my life, I was a self proclaimed agnostic. Mainly because the God I served, did not serve me (this could be another 15 blog posts so I'll just leave it at that). We started talking on the phone, and then we never stopped. We started to weave this tapestry of ideas and detailed plans for the future. We'd live in NY. She'd be a filmmaker and I'd be a writer/musician. We both loved Jawbreaker. She turned me on to The Magnetic Fields and phone sex. The romanticism is enough to make you wanna puke. But this was a dream. I had convinced her that I was this successful person, that I wasn't. I convinced her that I was a laundry list of things, that I actually wasn't. She was taken with me. She lived in Virginia and I lived in Olympia at the time. We announced our undying love for one another and then I hopped on a greyhound and took the almost 5 day bus ride to Norfolk, VA.

I was enamored with Virginia. I thought it could be a beautiful mecca to help nurture my self-proclaimed artistic genius. Little did I know that it was a hell-hole. Or rather that I was a hell-bound asshole. She had talked me into going to Church. We found a church in Virginia Beach, VA called Crosscurrent and then began the tumultuous beginnings to what would amount to us proclaiming faith in Jesus. We lived through my many a jobless state, being carjacked and kidnapped at gun point, and then on June 9th, 2006 in the classic Zeke & Margie impromptu fashion, with my friend Nik Safos as a witness, we went to the Princess Anne county Courthouse and we got married in front of Nik and a justice of the peace. Six months later, we packed our bags and left for the west coast.

After our 4 day drive we arrived in Portland. I think Margie immediately realized how much she would hate it, and how hard I would try to be cool and make it work. I worked a plethora of jobs once again, with vague promises of stability that I could never capitalize on. I pressed forward, and she grew more and more frustrated. A year later, it all came to a financial breaking point and I accepted a job in Seattle. After all that was where I always wanted end up anyway. From the day I met my wife, all I could ever talk about was Seattle. So we left Portland and moved to Seattle.

Upon our arrival in Seattle, Margie was completely taken with the city, as was I. I was so happy to be in the most beautiful city I have EVER been. We continued to struggle. I went from job to job. Margie's frustration continued to escalate. I still made excuses. "Babe, I just haven't been given the right opportunity" or "I'm the victim here." She believed it for awhile, until she noticed the one constant throughout all of our turmoil: Me. She came to a tipping point. I heard things like "you're a fucking coward" and "you are ruining our lives." All I could do is nod in agreement. What could I do to convince her otherwise that I am a responsible man? Nothing. Then she dropped the bombshell on me. She says, "God told me to marry you and to stay by you no matter what."

For those of you who are not familiar with my wife and for those of you who do know her, it will come as no surprise that she is an honest, forthright, generous and unconditionally loving woman. For those of you who know me or don't know me, I am a miserable, sarcastic, condescending, prick. That's not self deprecation, that's just an honest look at who I am. What my wife showed me in that instant where she reminded me of all the shit I inevitably put her through, is the fact that through her, God has shown me Grace unmeasurable. Margie, should have left a long time ago. She had many opportunities, many a betrayal and many a sin committed against her.

Closing in on our third year of marriage I thank Jesus for her. I thank Jesus for the Grace He has given me in a Godly wife who loves and pursues me. I thank Jesus that He is making me into a man that loves, pursues & leads my wife who has demonstrated the Gospel to me.

Romans 5: 16-17

16And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For(B) the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought(C) justification. 17For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness(D) reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ7