Supafly.com

The citrus trees are blooming, and the aroma is intoxicating. I wake up and inhale the glory. It’s quite a contrast to when I fart in my tent. It’s quite funny when you think about it.

I’m sitting at Candyce’s coffee shop on a beautiful Saturday morning. With every day that passes, temperatures drop in Arizona. Our summer is like every else’s winter: you stay inside. Today’s high is going to be 99 degrees, which is nothing in dry heat. I climbed out of my bed at eight this morning just so I could catch the cool morning. On my drive over here, I couldn’t believe how many people were taking walks and riding bikes. There were hundreds of them!

The past month at work has been hectic trying to launch the store on lifeteen.com. A month ago, my computer crashed and I lost many of my files from the last four years of my life. That was good and bad. Good because I’m glad to be done with that crap, and bad because I needed some of that crap. So I reformatted my computer and got back to the store.

It was three weeks of hard work, then my newer computer crashed three days ago. I lost all my files again. Its easy to say that I should’ve been backing up my files, but who backs up files on a new computer? I mean I hadn’t even added names to my address book yet. Yesterday I installed a new hard drive and started back up.

It’s ironic because I had to reformat my home computer the day before. It had become so buggy and loaded with spyware that I couldn’t even do basic tasks like shutting down. I don’t understand because I have Norton and I never download crap. I became so frustrated with these assholes who create spyware that screws up my life. I mean, I’m trying to relaunch nomoho.com, a good website with a good cause, and here I am spending one night after the next restarting in safe mode to scrape off all the spyware.
It’s been pretty easy to deal with these woes because many of my friends are down along the Gulf helping the relief effort for Katrina. If all that crashes is my computer–I am doing pretty well.

So anyway I left work at 7:15 last night after my computer was back in working condition. I picked up Candyce for dinner at a restaurant called “Z Tejas” in Tempe. Five years ago I wouldn’t want to get caught in a chain restaurant because I was too cool for corporate stuff. I preferred locally-owned hipster restaurants. But this place has good food and a good vibe, so why not?

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the “scene” at this restaurant on a Friday night. The average age in was probably 28. Every girl was pretty and every guy was smooth. Our little table was sandwiched in between two large tables of Arizona Cardinals players. The parking lot was loaded with blinged-out H2s, Escalades, and luxury cars. I was so entertained by the scene because I didn’t know it even existed. It’s just so good to be in my own town on a weekend!

Yesterday, I traveled for a total of seven hours: car, plane, bus, and on foot. By the time I got home at one in the morning, I was so physically and emotionally exhausted. It’s the worst feeling because your body is in survival mode, and it’s difficult to relax and fall asleep. I lied there wide-eyed, staring at the roof of the tent, ready for battle.

I am sitting at my favorite coffee shop in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. It’s the Caribou Coffee in between Concourse F and Concourse G. As desperately as I want to be home, I have to be thankful for these quiet moments along my journey. I never imagined when I first came to this Caribou in the year 2000 that I’d be sitting her five years later. This is probably my tenth visit to this same table, typing on this same computer.

A lot of people would look at the last five years of my life and be impressed with what I’ve accomplished. I’ve been on two MTV reality shows, each reaching more than twenty million viewers. I graduated from a top school with highest honors. I’ve traveled around the country to over 250 places, speaking to 250,000 young people. I’ve spent three years designing a huge website from the ground up, pulling together countless bright minds to contribute their time and talent. The website reaches a remarkable number of young people every hour. I have a nice house in a nice neighborhood. Although I am thankful for where I am, I am not content.

I am a student of success. I want to know what it is that makes them tick. What has driven them to the top? I want to know where beautiful ideas come from. I want to know why one magazine succeeds and another does not.

I was hoping that once the new lifeteen.com launched, I could relax and be at peace with my life. But no, none of that has happened. Although I am deeply thankful to God for being faithful and allowing this site to go up, I am not happy with where it is. We desperately need to hire a qualified full-time web developer. I need someone’s help to help maintain this huge site. Plus, there are so many more websites that we need to build.

I cannot be distracted by tomorrow’s dreams when yesterday’s dreams have come alive today. I need to stay focused on lifeteen.com. Nothing is more valuable on a website than quality content delivered consistently.

I know that Jesus taught we should be meek and humble, and I’m still trying to figure out what that means. I know that today you have to muscle your way through this competitive world of idealogies. I believe in the healing power of the Gospel, and all around me I see suffering. The message is not getting out. This bothers me.

My flight left Phoenix four hours late because Minneapolis/St. Paul had a big snow storm. Everyone scurried to find their seats and buckled down for the flight. Ten minutes later, the flight attendant got on the speaker and explained that it could be two to four hours before we took off. She gave us permission to leave the plane as long as we stayed close. I sat down at Starbucks and spent the next couple hours reading ESPN Magazine, HOW Magazine, and reading John Grisham’s newest book, “The Broker”. Soon it was time to hurry back on the plane and take off for Minneapolis.

I spent most of the four hour flight scribbling down ideas in the blank pages in my magazines. I spend so much time staring at glowing monitors, it was fresh and exciting to record my ideas like I did for most of my life. As I get older, my ideas get more bold and big. I’m always trying to sort out the details of my life: my goals at work, home, and personal projects. Ideas were spinning everywhere. It was wonderful!

My brainstorming became so overwhelming, I had to close my eyes and pray.; Ten minutes later, I’d open the magazine and find another page to scribble over. The ideas mapped out on those wrinkled pages give me so much hope and excitement.

After reviewing each page and trying to make plans to bring the ideas to life, one thing became painfully clear: I don’t have enough time. I have the talent and money to get things done, but at the end of the day, I never have enough time to get it all done. This day-to-day problem has continued for two years.

The only solution is to stop traveling as much on the weekends. I’ve known this was the solution two months ago, but I know it now more than ever. If I keep traveling at this pace, nothing in my life will change. On Monday I am going to talk to Kathleen and tell her that we need to slow down my schedule.

:::

Once we landed in Minneapolis, it was a mad dash to make my next flight.; I had not choice but to run hard and fast. If I missed this flight, I’d be spending the night at the airport, with no guarantee of flight the next day. I have a broken toe and I was wearing a pair of loafers. My backpack was heavy and I looked ridiculous, bouncing through the airport like a kindergärtner running to the school bus. But I pressed on. By the time I got to the gate, I almost ran into the ticket counter. I was like a bowling ball trying to stop in front of the pins. I was out of breath and couldn’t say anything. I gasped for air and then handed her my ticket. She waived me past.

I stepped out of the gate and onto the Jetway, infinitely grateful to have made the flight. The floor was covered with snow and the air was so cold it shocked my lungs. I mumbled a prayer and stepped onto the plane. Before I could take a seat, they had closed the plane. I had made it with only ten seconds to spare.

Getting the plane off the ground in Minneapolis was quite an ordeal. Even though it was nighttime, their was a cool glow coming fresh snow that covered the tarmac. The wind whipped walls of snow past my little window. In the distance, the flickering lights of rolling planes illuminated a cloud of snow, one second at a time. When set apart from the blanket of white, the airplanes looked so sleek and powerful. The whole scene was beautiful.

We pushed out of the gate to be de-iced. In the past, this has meant a quick squirt of liquid to the wings before we left the gate. But this time storm was particularly bad, forcing the plane for a full wash. The de-icing truck looks a lot like a telephone company truck, with a cherry-picker arm extending above the ground thirty feet. At the end of the arm was a small cockpit for a the man who controlled the hose. He looked so small and helpless up there, lifted so far off the ground, hosing down this mammoth plane beneath him. From inside the plane, it sounded like an huge automatic car wash.

Once our wash was done, we moved cautiously over the snow to the runway. We drove past dozens of bulldozers of all size, each scurrying to sweep up the thick layer of snow. Their front buckets were as big as my house.; They turned and zipped across the runway at amazing speeds, sending a rainbow of snow into the night air. They looked like a team of friendly giant robots.

:::

It’s after midnight now, and I am sitting up in bed. I’m staying in the basement of the rectory, on the hill above the church. There snow has covered the hills in the distance, giving them just enough light to pull them out of the darkness. It’s beautiful. Earlier tonight I saw three deer walk by the window.

I am in a town called Rockford, just outside of Grand Rapids, Michigan. When I looked at my travel schedule for this month, I didn’t realize that I had been at this church a year ago. Although I was only their for an afternoon on my last visit, I was charmed by their community spirit.;

It’s taken me over an hour to write this journal entry, and I think it’s time for bed. I am just happy to be under these warm covers and not curled up in the corner of the Minneapolis airport.