Author Archives: Aaron Matthew Kaiser

On This Day 1,983 Years Ago…

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The following is a post I just made on my Facebook wall for Good Friday. I wanted to share it with you.

On this day 1,983 years ago, a man from Nazareth was wrongfully executed, convicted by a rigged jury and angry mob.

As he hung on the cross and died, he forgave the people the killed him, he forgave his friends that abandoned him, and he forgave you. For it wasn’t the lashes or the beating that ended his life, nor the asphyxiation from his shoulders being dislocated. It was your sin—and mine—upon his back. He was the only perfect man that ever lived and he willingly made himself a sacrifice because none of us are worthy of joining God in Heaven.

Romans 10:9 says that “if you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” It’s as simple as that. You can’t earn your way into Heaven. It’s not a matter of being a good person. There are not multiple ways to get there. Jesus said no man comes to the Father, but through Him.

This is the one day of the year that I will be this bold on my Facebook wall. The one day of the year that I will push this on you because it’s important. You need to get it. Without Christ, you are destined for hell. You don’t need to get your shit together before coming to Him, that’s the entire point. You can’t do it on your own. Just realize that the cross was for you. The sacrifice was to cover your sins. And salvation is as simple as accepting that.

The Day Truth Slapped Me In The Face…

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Slapped in the Face

©TheRogue on Flickr

I don’t think anyone reads my blog anymore. It’s my fault, really. I’m not consistent. Sure, I’ll spend a week or two putting up a handful of entries, but then I’ll go a couple of months until I post again. This time around, it’s been about six months. Oops.

The truth is, I’ve had a lot happening behind the scenes in the business arena and I’m not comfortable talking about any of it until official announcements are made. I don’t want to ruin and/or jinx any of these opportunities. (All I will say is that each day is a day closer to my goals.)

One thing that I can talk about, though, is what’s going on with me emotionally and spiritually. Last time you heard from me here, I was heartbroken. I experienced a type of love I never had before, only it wasn’t reciprocated and I was left shattered. I was hurt, then she managed to anger me and we stopped talking completely as I waited for her to contact me to resolve our differences. She never did, but It was during those last three months that God had been working on me in a way that he never had before.

I attend church on Sundays at Reality LA. We’ve been dubbed the “hipster church of Hollywood,” but I have to tell you that Pastor Tim brings some of the most solid biblical teaching out there and I’ve been under some great teaching in the past. He’s unabashed and unashamed of what the gospel says. And it is in this lack of timidity that he has taken us recently into the book of Ecclesiastes.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to respond to this study that we’ve just barely started. For those unfamiliar, it is an Old Testament book that was likely written by King Solomon (or someone within his sphere of influence or taking upon Solomon’s mantle). He doesn’t refer to himself as such, only as “The Preacher”. The other thing you have to know is that this is the most secular approach to God in the entire bible. It’s where the phrase “under the sun” comes from and it approaches eternity from a skeptic’s viewpoint. Basically, it begs the question “what is life all about when all there is to life is life itself?”

Printed movie script

©Alex Eylar on Flickr

That first week, we looked at life as it would compare to a movie script. Most of us are familiar with some semblance of story structure. At the very least, we should understand what the climax of a story is. Pastor Tim challenged us with the fact that many of us in the room live our lives as if the climax of our story will be when we are successful and have received the admiration of our peeps. Others are living as if the climax of our lives will be when we are standing on the wedding altar with that perfect man or woman of our dreams.

While these are good things that we are meant to pursue, they are not meant to become our sole dedication in life. If our identity lies within who we date or what our job title is, then we stand the risk of losing sight of who we are should we lose that very thing. What we need to realize is that our relationship with Christ defines us. Our identity is within Him. The moment that we accepted Christ is the climax of our story and no point in our life will define who we are as greatly as that moment.

Several months prior, I had already wrestled with the career aspect. I asked myself if I was making my career an idol and I had already come to the conclusion that I had not. I was willing to give it up if that was how God directed me. But in the days prior to hearing this, I was already struggling with the question of whether or not I was placing my desire for a relationship with a woman above my desire for a relationship with Christ. And I couldn’t answer that at first, but I knew immediately upon this illustration that I was. It was time to try to let it go.

Every week, something was said that got me thinking about my priorities in life. Am I sharing my faith enough? Am I caring enough for the salvation of others? Am I making excuses for myself in these areas? And each week, I felt convicted. When the book turned to the unpleasant conversation of death, I began asking myself what I would say at a funeral of a loved one. Would I stand before all of the attendees and passionately proclaim the gospel?

And then Tim’s wife gave birth to their third daughter. He took the week off and another one of the pastors took the stage and preached about the prodigal son. He admitted that there was nothing new that he could glean from this oft-preached passage, but he hoped to refresh our memories and remind us. Yet, he was able to pull out a truth that I had not seen before in all of my previous studies. And it hit me square across the face and has (so far) changed my life.

At the beginning of the story, as the younger son is basically saying that he wishes his father were dead, we see how the father reacts in the face of rejection. He’s hurt, but he doesn’t lash out at his son. In fact, how he went about giving his son what he wanted was acknowledging that the son was still his. Of course, the application was supposed to be about God’s response to us when we reject him, but I got something much more personal out of it, much more profound.

You see, all of us can associate with the father in this story. We have all been rejected at some point in our lives by someone close to us. We’ve been dumped by a lover or betrayed by a colleague. Yet, our human nature is not to respond in the same way this father did. We have self-defense mechanisms designed to stop the hemorrhaging arteries of our heart. We change our opinion about the person who wronged us in an effort to stop the pain. If we convince ourselves that the person was mean and evil all along, it’s easier for us to stop caring.

Bricks stacked on the ground

Yes, I went with a brick analogy. Sue me. ©Tim Green on Flickr

Suddenly, it hit me. That’s exactly what I do when I’m rejected. And it’s not healthy. More specifically, I was trying to convince myself what a horrible person my ex was for upsetting me and not contacting me to reconcile our differences. That anger continued to build and build and build. I trying to insist that I was over her, but more than one person pointed out that I was merely trying to convince myself that I was.

That night, I posted on Facebook about my discovery. I posed the question that, if I truly love someone to begin with, must I stop loving them in order to get over them? Doesn’t love last through anger and non-reciprocation?

And suddenly, I wasn’t angry any more. I had peace. It was okay for me to still love her, even though she rejected me. It didn’t even matter if she knew it, as long as I did. I can’t tell you just how much freedom there was in that action.

There is honestly more to this story, but I want to stop it here. I’ll just summarize to say that I sent her a text message on Friday night to let her know that I didn’t hate her, then unfriended her on Facebook today as a way to just let her go. That hurt I felt before is gone. The anger has dissipated. This was an act I resisted doing previously out of pettiness and was able to do now as a sign of acceptance that we both had moved on.

Yes, I’ll still miss her. And part of me will aways love her (as I should). But I’m free. And it’s all because God keeps slapping me in the face with His truth.

Turning The Page…

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Yellow Man from BrickArtist.com

I don’t know what to write. I know that I need to say something, but for once I’m speechless. The worst part is that I don’t even know what to feel. I’m not sure if I’m numb, in denial, or if my emotions have already spilled out like the yellow lego guy up above.

Chances are, if you are reading this, you are a close friend trying to find out why I’m mentioning having a broken heart on Facebook. Or you are new to my life and you are looking back through my experiences in order to get to know me. Hopefully, you aren’t the leader of some advanced alien civilization that will determine our planet’s fate based on what I write throughout my blog. ‘Cause, if that’s the case, our species is fucked.

So, yeah… my heart is broken. I can’t say that this is the first time, because it’s not. I also can’t say that I didn’t think this was a possibility, because I knew it was. But this time… this time, it’s different.

I’ve already written about Savannah (although this is the first time I have mentioned her by name). My last two blog entries are actually about her, as are my three latest poems. We had been Facebook friends for a while, but had never met until five months ago when she came to a party I was hosting at El Torito. I can still recall the moment she walked through the doorway. As if I was seeing the vision of an angel, my heart skipped a beat and I knew that there was something special about her. We clicked immediately and, by the end of the evening, I knew that I had to ask her out. Within a couple of weeks, I was in love and I thought I had finally met the woman that I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

Aaron and Savannah at the February Tubefilter MeetingYes, two weeks. Just like how I said this heartbreak is different, so were my feelings of love. She genuinely made me happy in a way that no other woman ever had. Unfortunately, she chose another guy and I pushed her completely away for several weeks. During that time, I had never stopped thinking about her, nor had I stopped being in love with her.

When I found out that she was again single, I sought counsel from friends and prayed to God for him to provide a divine appointment to see her. Two days later, I emailed her and apologized. Two days after that, we randomly ran into each other at a networking event and it was as if no time had passed at all. So much so, that we went on a date exactly one week later and really enjoyed ourselves.

We took things slow. Really slow. It wasn’t my idea, even though it really was what I needed, but it was because she wasn’t sure how she felt yet. To further confuse matters, we would say that we loved each other all of the time, even though we were not yet a couple. From the outside, a handful of people commented that it seemed she was leading me on, but I know that she was genuinely trying to see if the deeper feelings would develop. She loved me, but was she in love with me?

And that’s when we arrive at yesterday. My phone rang, her beautiful face appears on the screen. I answer and she is soon confessing that those feelings still haven’t arrived. She doesn’t think we are meant to be more than friends.

I had been fearing this call. You might even say that I was prepared, except for the fact that it came as I was eating and surrounded by a group of friends at a potluck. I stepped outside for privacy, pacing around the driveway in my socks as we discussed our hearts.

There is one thing that I didn’t mention above: during the last two months of re-courting Savannah, I had fallen even more in love. I already thought it was something unique and special, but now it was more. And I can’t explain it. For the life of me, I can not tell you how this deeper level of love feels. The closest I can get is comparing these emotions to the concept of “soul mate” or “true love”. I found myself in a place where I no longer sought her to make me happy, but my joy came in bringing happiness to her. A place where I would gladly deny myself to give her life. My greatest concerns about her were about her well being, future, and salvation. I would try to imagine a future without her in it and not only was it not possible, but it was not desirable.

Yet, here I stood. In a friend’s driveway. In my socks. On the phone. Talking about my heart and my faith to the woman I loved more than anyone else in the world. And the topic on the table was that she loves me, but isn’t in love with me.

iPhone with dead batteryThen my phone dies at perhaps the most critical moment of our conversation. I rush back inside and borrow my friend’s phone. By the time I get online and recover her phone number, she had already retired for the evening. The conversation was over.

I sunk down against the wall, not breathing a word of the call’s contents to anyone. I only half-watched the movie that was playing as I texted a handful of close friends to let them know. And any time I thought about how I felt, a silent tear would creep down my face. I was trying not to show it, but I was numb inside and I felt like I was dying from the inside out. I simply didn’t know how to respond.

Everyone left, but I stayed behind. My friend asked about the call. He was asking about the second half of the conversation, which he knew about. I answered the questions, then told him about the first.

I couldn’t look at him as I talked, I just kept staring forward and looking at nothing in particular. I wept as I spoke, holding onto as much composure as I could muster. “I just want God’s best for her, even if it doesn’t include me.” I told him, meaning every word. In fact, I had been praying that very thing for almost two weeks, always hoping that God’s best did, in fact, include me. I just wanted God to know that I wasn’t making an idol out of a relationship with her.

God had been teaching me a lot as I waited for a relationship with her. I honestly thought that, giving her enough time, God would have changed her heart toward me. The funny thing is, even now as I stand on this side of the phone call, I still feel as strongly as I did then about her being “the one.”

I promised Savannah weeks ago that I wasn’t going to push her away again. I’m going to hold myself to that promise (if only for me, because it sucked last time not to be able to talk to her). And it’s always possible for God to change her heart, but I also know it’s healthy for me to not expect that to happen and try to move on. Yet, all I want is her. All I see is her. I don’t even know if I can trust myself to love another woman the way I love her.

So, here I stand alone. Not sure which way to go. Not sure how to act, how to feel, or what to think. All I know is that I’m in pain because I love someone very, very deeply and it turns out that it wasn’t enough.

Lessons from God in Love…

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Pages of a Bible forming a heart

I think God has been working on me a lot lately. A lot more than normal. Well, at least I’m listening more and actually letting the lessons sink in. That’s gotta count for something, right?

A little over a month ago, I told you about pushing the woman I loved away and finally mustering up the courage to tell her that I was sorry. So much has happened since I wrote that and I couldn’t tell every detail if I wanted to. (I actually don’t want to, believe it or not… I know, so not like me!) What I am willing to share is that, two days after sending her that apology email and her replying, we randomly ran into each other at a networking event. I didn’t expect to see her, but there she was. And it was like no time had passed.

I honestly had not expected to be back in her life so quickly, nor had I expected to have another chance to pursue her, but it was happening. I was apprehensive at first; afraid to have my heart broken by the same person once again. Yet, there I was: confessing my love and falling back in love with the person that never left my heart emotionally. I even wrote her another poem (the third she has been a muse for) and was getting happier and happier by the day as we appeared to draw closer to the other, inch by inch.

And I say inch, because we are taking it slow. Very slow. And it’s frustrating the hell out of me, but it is exactly what I need. This is the lesson I need to learn. Not the patience part, but the part that forces me to trust God with this relationship. You see, because I’ve dated so many women that have never turned into relationships, my fear is that this one never will as well. I’m afraid of getting hurt and instead of keeping myself guarded, it forces me to rush things when I find a woman that I truly like. And I try to take control of the situation to make them love me back, which doesn’t work. At all. Even good things have been taken away from me because I’m not letting God do his work.

A couple weeks ago, I realized what I was doing. I was trying to force the relationship to happen instead of letting God woo her heart toward me. So, I reached out to a couple of close friends and told them what was going on and asked for prayer. Since then, it’s been a back-and-forth battle between my fear, which has been reading too much into the situation, and my faith, which is handing control back over to God.

I even had a night where I ran into a friend from church, told him of my struggle, then went home. Within an hour, my fear had again consumed me and I tweeted my frustration. This same friend saw and commented, “cuz then we wouldn’t need to trust God for everything and care the most about His opinions.”

That hit me square between the eyes. God wanted me to see how ridiculous I was acting. So, I handed control over to him once more. The next several days, however, the pattern would continue. My mind would wonder why things are going so slow, then God would remind me that he wants me to build something that will last, then I’d grow fearful again, then I’d relax and trust God once more. Never. Ending. Cycle.

Finally, Sunday arrives. I force myself to go to church (I’ve really been slacking all this year). Pastor Tim is currently teaching from Hosea, which chronicles a prophet who married a prostitute as a symbol of God’s love for, and relationship with, the nation of Israel. At one point, he made the following commentary:

If you have to perform in order to achieve acceptance, you will be forced to continue performing to order to maintain acceptance.

Bam! Right between the eyes again. He was talking about the nature of God’s love toward us. This also directly relates to the falsity of works-based salvation, because one could not work hard enough to achieve, let alone maintain, God’s acceptance. (And, when you think about it, that makes the grace of his abundant love for us even greater).

For me, though, it hit closer to home. It hit directly where I was struggling: my prospective relationship. And I relate it like this: If I work hard to win her love through my performance, I will be forced to never stop performing, lest the relationship fall apart. Alternatively, if I just be myself and allow God to bring us together in his timing and according to his desire, then it will be a union that can stand under pressure. And that’s the kind of relationship I want.

Are there still things I have to do? Yes. I’ll still call her, write her poetry, and open doors for her because that’s the kind of guy I am, but at the end of the day I can relax and let God deal with her heart. I couldn’t force that to change anyway. When all is said and done, God has got to be involved. I can either get in the way and make it more difficult, or I can step aside and let him work his magic.

I choose to let him work his magic.

Saying “I’m Sorry” Like A Man…

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I'm Sorry

I have a news flash for everyone: I’m not perfect. I make mistakes, bad choices, and wrong decisions. Sometimes they occur because I wasn’t thinking, other times to avoid pain. In the end, it doesn’t matter why, it just matters how you deal with them. And when you did something wrong, but feel you had good motivation, it is really hard to say those two important words: “I’m sorry.”

This story is about the hardest “I’m sorry” that I’ve ever had to make in my life.

A couple months ago, I was pursuing a woman—a smart, beautiful, talented actress that took my breath away from the moment I met her. Communicating with her came so easily, we had so much in common on multiple levels, and she had just the personality that I was looking for. But there was more. There was a spark.

You know what I’m talking about. “The” spark. The fabled sensation that everyone talks about looking for and never seems to discover. The one talked about on eHarmony commercials or bandied about at a wedding reception about the happy couple. I’d seen it in the eyes of other people, so I knew it was real, but I had never experienced it for myself. With all of my dates and crushes and romantic pursuits, that was the piece that was missing. And I finally found it.

So, I asked her out.

I’m not going to get into all of the details, but I can say that she had another suitor that she’d been seeing for a couple of weeks. She gave me a chance to prove myself and I set to task of showing her that I was the better man. I took her places that I knew she would appreciate, bought her flowers, wrote her poetry, talked to her for hours on the phone, etc.

I tried my best to hold myself back emotionally, since I knew my penchant for falling in love easily, but it was no use. When you exert that much energy in such a short period of time, you fall and you fall hard. I was in love deeper than ever before. And it didn’t help that she not only reciprocated interest, but that my friends around us were picking up on the same vibes. My heart was gone—hook, line, and sinker.

A big networking event was coming up and I was feeling pretty good that I was winning out in this war of roses. I’d be able to flex my industry prowess and she’d be impressed and she’s be mine. And that’s exactly what happened, except that she called me four days later to say that she had chosen the other guy.

I was crushed. I’d been here before and lost then, too. The problem with the other times is that I didn’t feel like I was the better man because I wasn’t as handsome or musically inclined (yes, I lost out to a musician). This time, the rejection came out of left field. I knew from the moment I asked her out that this could have been a possibility, but I honestly thought the odds were in my favor.

At first, I didn’t want to do anything rash. She desperately didn’t want to lose my friendship and I was hoping that I’d still be able to steal her away over time. But that didn’t happen. Two days later, the stress tipped me over the edge and I pushed her completely away. She offered space, but I wanted separation. And that’s exactly what I got, because she didn’t contact me again.

This wasn’t my first push-away either. I’d gone through about three or four in the past. Except, in every single one of those cases, the girl pushed me away because of some supposed character defect. In each case, they all came back and apologized months, sometimes years later. So, in the back of my mind, I expected the same to happen here. What I didn’t realize was that this was different because I was the one pushing.

I was thankful for a big project that took place immediately afterward, because it kept my mind focused and I wasn’t able to dwell on her. Facebook kept showing me her photos and statuses to torture me, but I was able to brush off most of the negative feelings for a while. After things settled, I began to think about it again and I found that I couldn’t get over her. She was in my head and under my skin and wasn’t leaving. In my mind, no other girl I’d dated or wanted to date came close to her and I’d leave nearly anyone to take her back.

For weeks, I’d been thinking about contacting her. Do I send her an anonymous bouquet of flowers? Do I send her a letter? Part of me hoped that she would watch my project and comment on that, opening the door for more conversation, but that never happened. Like I said, I got what I asked for and she left me alone.

And then I logged into Facebook again. It was within fifteen minutes of her changing her status to single and commenting that she’d thought he was different and wasn’t. I was floored. I didn’t expect her romance to end after only a few weeks. But what could I do? What could I say? If I suddenly swooped in and commented, that would have looked opportunistic and my credibility would be shattered. So I prayed for wisdom and I consulted with friends. I talked to women that could relate to how she might be feeling because they’d gone through similar situations. And I sang a lot of Sinatra. Yeah, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” was stuck in my head.

The urgency to say something was mounting on my shoulders. Thoughts of what I could say or do consumed my thoughts. And then the most important thing began to happen: regret. For the first time, I began to fully regret having pushed her away. I had questioned it multiple times already, but now I realized that I had really made a mistake. And it was time to say something.

I sat down at the computer to compose an email. Nothing came out. This had to be real and authentic. It was still important to me that she didn’t think I just wanted to make an opportunity to get back together with her. And part of me still thought that I was justified because she was the one who picked the other guy. So, I sat there and stared at the screen until the right words could formulate.

I’m not sure how, but Chicago’s “Hard To Say I’m Sorry” popped into my head. I went onto YouTube and started playing the cheesy 80′s music video.

Turns out that this cheesy 80′s music video was exactly what I needed. It put me in the proper frame of mind to realize that I just needed to apologize and exactly what for. Keep it short, keep it simple, keep it real. Within minutes, I had written the following few sentences:

I’ve been battling with myself the past few weeks, wondering if I handled the situation properly. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but what I felt I had to do to protect my own sanity. And I got what I asked for: you left me alone. Yet, I’ve regretted every day away from you. I am genuinely sorry for pushing you away. I was selfish and thought only of myself.

I know that you guys broke up recently, but this email was honestly a long time coming. I just didn’t man up enough to send it to you until now. I wish I could be there for you to make sure you are okay. You will continue to be mentioned in my prayers. Again, I’m sorry.

[Note: I find it ironic that I've written such a long blog post to discuss such a short email.]

Before I could talk myself out of it, I typed her name in the header field and hit send. No turning back now. I sighed, then began to cry a little. There was so much angst built up over the past six weeks and all of it was released in that very moment. I felt free.

You see, I needed to apologize as much for myself as for her. That’s why making amends is an important step of addiction recovery. Now that I’ve said my peace, I have the ability to move on and not be chained to the notion of “what if I never pushed her away?”

As of writing this post, I haven’t heard back from her yet. I hope I do. And I hope she forgives me. And yes, I hope that this may lead to us eventually getting back together, but I’m placing that part in God’s hands.

[Edit: I have now heard back from her and I've been forgiven. The rest? Well... time will tell.]

I’ve referenced apologizing like a man a few times here. I guess that I should bookend with that. While I am in no way an expert, I do believe that there are a few examples here that you can follow. First, while a face-to-face or telephone conversation would have been preferred, it wasn’t appropriate for this situation. Second, I admitted my wrong and kept to that without deflecting blame. A real man owns up to his mistakes and is sincere with every word he says. Third, I did not use this message as an opportunity. If she wants to begin communicating with me and letting me back into her life, she will do so with a reply. Like I said before: keep it short, keep it simple, keep it real. Do that and you, too, can be apologizing like a man in no time.

I Pushed The Big Red Button…

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Big Red Button

Image courtesy włodi.

The following is a cautionary tale of technology and misattribution.

It was Tuesday night. I was on the phone, joining the San Diego Filmmakers planning meeting remotely (as is my norm). We were discussing our Facebook page when I noticed a doppelgänger. That’s right, someone had created their own SDF page and was using it for their own evil purposes.

I’m guessing they took a page out of Dr. von Kaiser’s evil playbook, as there was only one fan, but we had to act regardless and take the page down.

Without alerting anyone, I clicked the “Report Page” link and filled out the DMCA form, citing abuse of our intellectual property. The next morning, I receive an email stating that they had removed my page for violation.

“Wait, that’s not right,” I thought as I logged in to see what happened. Apparently, in my haste to report them and my distraction of being on the phone, I put our official URL in the field where I was supposed to put the offending page. And now, our hard work and 1,200+ fans were gone.

That’s right, I pushed the big red button and nuked my own God damned Facebook page. Let’s just say that, if I’m ever elected president, they won’t be letting me anywhere near the nuclear launch codes. I’d be likely to blow up Newark or something (not like that would be a bad thing).

How did I respond? I swore. A lot. I pounded my desk as I muttered the F-word, tempted to throw something valuable across the room in anger. How could I have done this? How could I have been so reckless? I took a walk, calmed down, then rationally approached the situation.

Thankfully, the page had merely been disabled and Facebook operations restored it within 24 hours (while also disabling the offending profile). I do think that part of the blame lies in their confusing form (I assumed that they knew what page I wanted deleted based on where I clicked the link), but I do have to take the responsibility for the rest of it. Luckily, no permanent harm was done and—who knows—maybe New Jersey would look better with a giant crater in the middle of it.

2010: The Year I Wrote Scripts…

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I’ve always been a writer. Since I was a wee one, I was crafting words onto a page and telling a story. One such tale, which I remember vividly, was an assignment during 2nd grade that featured my cousin, my (talking) hamster, and myself on a wild adventure that brought us to Mars. It just so happened to completely follow the plot of Total Recall, which I had seen recently prior. Apparently, I’ve also been a plagiarist since I was a wee one, as well.

It’s true, though. I’ve been writing as long as I can remember and I’ve been good at it. From papers to speeches (usually flaring on the melodramatic), I easily wove together pieces of sentences to form the finished artwork. I’ve told those around me that it’s in my blood, thanks to my grandfather. My style developed, I got published, but I never considered myself a scriptwriter.

My career plan involved hiring other writers and collaborating on my concepts, so I could focus on producing them. “I’m a big picture guy,” I would say. The truth is, I really love to write and my life would not be complete without it.

I think it was my “career plan” that was most flawed. I used to have a problem conveying the vision in my head to other people. I overcame that, but still ran into a problem of finding writers that I could collaborate with and keep motivated. This led me to having a over a dozen concepts in development and not a single script ready to produce.

So, early in 2010, I told a co-worker that I felt that God wanted me to focus on my writing. If any of my projects would progress to a finished script, I would have to do it myself. I was confident of my writing skills in general, but not so much when came to screenplays. I set out on a small project and began to write.

That small project turned into a pilot for a half-hour series that I spent eight months perfecting, learning along the way the nuances of the format. Friends and colleagues not only loved the concept, but the script itself and I knew that I was now on the career path that God wanted me on. This was confirmed when I turned my attention to a new short script concept, cranked out the first draft that night, and got the same reactions. And the next soon followed the same pattern.

But it wasn’t just scripts that I spent time developing in 2010. A lot of time went into developing the series proposal for this pilot, finding the best ways to pitch the project to potential sponsors. I also began researching and writing a feature film business plan for another project as well. I have to say that, in terms of skill development, I believe this last year contained my greatest advancement over my entire career prior.

Now, I’m tasked with 2011. Honestly, I feel like there will be more writing involved. A lot more. I’m honing my craft, expressing myself in ways never before. I’m creating characters, universes, worlds that beg to be explored. And I’m building up my catalog of scripts that are ready to be produced. In any case, it’s going to be exciting.

How To Never Lose Hope…

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Hope is a funny thing. We are often told not to get our hopes up, lest we get disappointed. The bible says that hope deferred makes the heart sick. Robert G. Ingersoll said, “Hope is the only universal liar who never loses his reputation for veracity.” And I say, based upon the fact that I was once faced with a situation where I had lost my hope, that it is extremely dangerous to not have.

But what is hope? How can you wrap the intangible into something that we can realize? How do we know when it is slipping away and how do we keep from losing it?

This topic came into my mind tonight because of two videos I watched online. It first happened as I was watching the latest episode of Family Guy on Hulu. Near the beginning of the episode, Meg and Chris are talking about this very topic. Take a look at the scene:

So, according to Meg Griffin:

Hope is what gets you out of bed in the morning when it’s the day of prom and you haven’t been asked. Hope pushes the caterpillar through the cocoon and drives the salmon upstream. Your breasts may be small and your glasses may be thick, but hope doesn’t hold up a mirror. Hope is a horizon we head for, leaving nothing behind us, but fear. And though we may never reach our goals, it’s hope that will save us from who we once were.

Okay, so there is some obvious comedy there, but she’s pretty spot on. Hope is the force that pushes, drives, and beckons us to continue each day, in the face of adversity, for something better. It is most evident in those that stand tall, despite immense trial, and patiently wait for the calamity to end.

And again, speaking from someone who has been there, hope is something incredibly important that we must hold onto. Pray that you are never in the place where you can not see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Now, I mentioned that there were two videos that brought this topic to mind. The second involves the recent internet sensation, Ted Williams. His is a story that I’ve been following for a few days if, for no other reason, that it helps renew my hope. Take a look at this 11 minute interview on NBC’s Today Show:

I hope that you caught the same thing that I did. Aside from the inspirational reaction that Ted has received since the story hit the internet, there is an interaction (starting at 5:47) that answers my final question of “how do we keep from losing hope?” Here is the transcript:

Matt Lauer: Your mom has lived long enough to see what is going to be, we hope, redemption… [Meredith Vieira and I] both worry, a little, that a lot is happening very quickly and some people might find that hard to deal with. Are you emotionally ready to accept this second chance, to do the right things with this second chance?

Ted Williams: This time around, Matt, I have God… in my life… acknowledging Him on a daily basis… I was ready to mark 2010 as another year wasted until I realized that, in 2010, I found a new sense of spirituality… I do want to say that the difference between my successes of years gone by, I didn’t acknowledge the Lord or thank him for anything before. You know, and I’ve had some great opportunities… but I never, not once, said, ‘Oh Lord, thank you for this’ or ‘thank you for another day’ or ‘forgive me for this.’ But this time around, I’m acknowledging him in all my ways.

Matt: So, you think you can make it?

Ted: Yes, sir.

So, can thanking God be the secret to not losing hope? Can simply waking up each day and saying, ‘thank you, Lord, for the morning’ be the missing piece that so many of us miss?

I have to admit that this is an area that I struggle with. I’m not always as thankful as I could be and, when I am, it’s usually right after I’ve been shaking my fist at Him for something. I need to do better. Something in Ted’s words are resonating in me. Call it conviction if you want, but I know it’s true and I need to follow his lead.

Father, I’m sorry for being selfish. Life is always about me and my needs. I often forget that each day is a gift that you have given. I thank you for the sunsets and the reminders that you are there along the way. I thank you for the talents you have given me, the dreams you have instilled in me, and the journey you have taken me. I thank you for the personal relationship that I can have with you and I’m sorry for each day that I don’t spend developing it or listening to what you have to say. Despite my current lacks and my current needs, I place my life in your hands and I thank you for it all. Please renew my hope. In Jesus name, Amen.

Remember the Sunsets…

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Sunset along I-5 on 10/20/2010

The most beautiful sunset I've ever seen. Photo courtesy Julia Denton.

As the warm glow of 2010 begins to set over the horizon of time, I think if only fitting that I tell a story about involving sunsets and happy, fairytale endings. Minus the fairytale part. There was no kissing of frogs involved.

It was October and things were tough. Hell, when aren’t they? Anyway, this particular financial struggle involved my vehicle registration on top of everything else in my life. I was so broke that I hadn’t paid my registration fees (I was six months overdue) because I could not afford them, nor the mandatory smog check. In fact, my insurance had lapsed for non-payment and I was behind on my car payment itself. To top everything off, a ticket I had received a couple of months prior was coming up due. I had reinstated my insurance, but I still needed to register my car.

You can just imagine the stress upon my shoulders. I didn’t know what to do. Because of lack of work, I had no options at that point.

Thankfully, I have friends in my life that really care about me. In this instance, TK decided to “hire” me for a day to help him setup his website with WordPress and he would pay me in advance so I could pay my vehicle registration and be done with it.

I woke up on Tuesday, October 19th with a spring in my step and a sigh of relief. Before picking up the funds from TK, I decided to get my car smogged so the trip to Hollywood could be streamlined. That’s when I ran into…

The Big Roadblock: I failed my smog check.

I was devastated and angry. My friend was helping me, but it wasn’t enough. Forces beyond my ability to control were keeping me from being able to register my car, simply because of a check engine light that pointed to an expensive vehicle repair.

Deciding it best to keep moving on best I could, I still met up with TK, got the funds, and ran over to the DMV to pay my fines. If I couldn’t get my sticker, I could at least get the money part taken care of. I wanted to make sure that this help went exactly where it was intended.

The next morning, I woke up to drive down to San Diego and appear on my ticket. I was angry that my registration wasn’t resolved. Not at the system, but at God. I needed him to provide and I felt abandoned. My plan was to ask to see a judge and I assumed that meant another court date and a second trip to appear. To me, it was a waste of time and gas that would not have resolved my issues.

Leaving Burbank later than anticipated meant that I didn’t arrive in San Diego until the afternoon. I stood in line for a while and walked up to the counter, gave her my paperwork, and told her I got part of it taken care of, but not all of it. The outcome surprised me.

This entire time, I had been worried about the registration, but it turns out that they only cared that I paid the fees (score one for moving ahead with the original plan). The big issue was the fact that I didn’t show proof I had insurance at the time I received my ticket, only after the fact. An $800-something fine dropped to only $400-something. It was another sigh of relief followed by an “uh-oh.”

I asked to see the judge, as I had a year prior in Burbank on a similar ticket. I pulled out my calendar, ready to discuss dates, when she told me that I was checked in and should walk around the corner and sit in the courtroom.

“Okay, this isn’t what I thought would happen, but let’s get this taken care of.” I pondered.

As I sat through the last few cases of the morning session, I noticed that this judge wasn’t the same temperament as the judge I had prior. Before, the judge waived all fees if you received insurance after the fact, leaving you with only a small $25 assessment. This guy wasn’t giving anyone a break. Perhaps one in ten people got a small reduction, but he held tight to what people had to pay and tried to get through everyone as quickly as possible.

The longer I sat there, the more anxious I got. If I left San Diego too late, I wouldn’t make it back to Los Angeles in time for bible study. Finally, it was my turn. I was the first person called in the evening session. I walked up to the podium and placed my fedora in front of me.

“How are you doing today, Mr. Kaiser?” he asked.

“I’m surviving, your honor.” I replied. “Thank you for seeing me.”

My case went as quickly as those before me. I showed him that I paid my fees, but had failed my smog and didn’t have the full registration. I gave him the insurance and admitted that I didn’t have it at the time of the ticket, but purchased it afterward. I didn’t explain or excuse why, I just presented the facts. Never did I state how broke I was or make a plea for leniency.

Yet, leniency was what I received. The fee was reduced to $375 (with two $25 assessments on top) and he automatically offered me a $75/month payment plan. I was humbled and very thankful as I left the room and walked into the bail office to receive my paperwork. I don’t know if he picked up on my “surviving” comment, or there was more of a supernatural prod on his spirit (or a combination of both), but I got a break that I needed.

“I’ll most likely be on the road in 30 minutes, I’ll probably be late.” I texted to a couple of my friends. Another sigh of relief, intertwined with the anxiety of driving up I-5 and I-405 in rush hour traffic on a rainy day. Then, before I could think another thought, my name was called. Because of the break between sessions and since I was the first person called, my paperwork was ready almost immediately. Within five minutes–not thirty–I was out the door and on my way. It was about 5:30pm.

Now we get to the good part of the story.

Sunset along I-5 on 10/20/2010

In case you forgot what it looked like, here is the sunset again. Photo courtesy Julia Denton.

I was driving north on I-5, I passed Oceanside and hit the stretch of freeway that hugs the beach. My view was unobstructed by buildings and mountains and what I could see just happened to be the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen with my own two eyes. The sun was just dipping into the water and there were abundant hues of orange, pink, purple, and blue. Thanks to that day’s rain, there were high clouds and low clouds and the beauty of the moment gave me pause.

As fate (or God) would have it, my friend, Julia Denton, was driving along the same stretch of freeway at around the same time as me. She decided to take out her iPhone and took a few photos (which I neglected to do as I was, you know, driving). By the way, Julia is also a beautiful and talented actress. So, you casting directors should totally hire her. Here is her website: www.juliadenton.com

Immediately, I was struck with awe and the realization that, had the timing of the day gone any other way, I would never have seen this sunset. This was a gift from God, reminding me that he was still in control, even when I didn’t think he was. I began the day angry, upset, and anxious. I ended it with a resolved traffic ticket that did not require any more trips to San Diego and a sunset that inspired me and reassured me that I serve a living God that responds to our needs. Plus, I had a story to tell during bible study (which happened to fit right into our study of Habakkuk).

But wait, there’s more! Yes, a nice little epilogue to this story.

Driving home from bible study (which I made it to on time, surprisingly), my check engine light turned off. I woke up in the morning for a breakfast mixer and it was still off, so I drove down to the smog station for my free retest. An initial test still showed the error, but the test itself passed!

I can’t quite remember, but I’m sure that I jumped for joy right there in the mechanic’s garage. Needless to say, I immediately drove down to the DMV and got my sticker and put it on my car as soon as I walked out. This was one of the biggest trials weighing me down during 2010 and it was over. I was excited. And I remembered the sunset I had seen the day before, reminding me that God was in charge.

And, as if to further prove the point, the check engine light came back on as I drove to another session of the same bible study Thursday night. It stayed off just long enough for me to pass smog.

So, as 2010 fades away and 2011 begins to rise over the distant mountains, I urge you to remember the sunsets in your life and continually praise God for putting them there. Speaking from experience, it is so easy to forget and take them for granted, but we are meant to remember them.