That could totally be the title of a Heroes episode.  In fact, I'm almost certain there is one called "Four Years Later."  I think it's about what time-traveling Hiro sees when he travels to the future, circa 2011: a bleak, miserable world in which the worst fears of the present have been realized.  Luckily the show's take on time travel is that we can always change the future as long as we do it from the present, so the horrific future is ultimately prevented in the Season 1 finale.

     But in this episode, February '08 Jon, having just written what June '08 Jon must admit was a killer blog entry about the origins of Valentine's Day Predictions, glimpses his life 4 months into the future.  Things aren't apocalyptic, but V-Day Jon notices a few oddities about his June self: for one, he's hypochondriatic, a fact that was never remotely true before, but was probably brought on by some flukish or not-so-flukish passing out incident.  He's also twiddling his thumbs a lot, notifying FebJon that the suaveness of the most recent Xanga/facebook entry did nothing to establish a lasting romantic relationship -- realizing that writing cool blogs doesn't work toward this end, he will probably return to his own time and discontinue all blog activity.
     June Jon, or J.J. (as he's called by his somehow wiser, more attractive past self), doesn't see his alter ego observing him, but hears noises as the large time-traveler trips on umbrellas and fans.  This will only lead to further propogation of the 2008 Summer Apartment Ghost Myths. 

     This was, in my current state of delirium, my best effort to explain the ridiculous writing hiatus.  It's amazing that the word "ridiculous" in that last sentence modified "hiatus" and not "effort."  As always, receiving comments will spur me on to do more strange things like this.

Love,
Jon

Notation:

x~y denotes "person x is in a romantic relationship with person y"
d(x,y) is a measure of the distance, in miles, between the residence of person x and person y

The Baker-Mathieu Theorem

If g is a local girl, g~b, and d(g,b)>35, then

     b is a douchebag.

A proof of the theorem is beyond the scope of this blog, but one key observation is in order: each condition in the theorem is necessary.  If any is removed, counterexamples abound to refute the theorem.

Counterexamples of insufficiently strong statements of the theorem:

Suppose we remove the condition that g be a local girl.  Then consider Allison Cook, who is in a relationship with Zach Smith and lives more than 35 miles away from him.  Zach Smith is not a douchebag.  The theorem does not hold.

Suppose we remove the condition that g~b.  Then consider any local girl.  Andrew Nelson (who is not in a romantic relationship with any such girl) lives more than 35 miles away from her, and he is not a douchebag. 

Suppose we eliminate the condition that d(b,g)>35.  Then consider local girl Rachele MacFarlene, who is in a romantic relationship with Tim Moreland.  d(Rachele, Tim)<1.  Tim Moreland is not a douchebag.

     Perhaps Adam and I will hold a colloquium to present the proof and hold a question and answer session.

Jon

While it's still (sort of) the day before my birthday, let me post this:

Wish I had what I needed
To be on my own,
'Cause I feel so defeated
And I’m feeling alone.
And it all seems so helpless,
And I have no plans:
I’m a plane in the sunset
With nowhere to land.
And all I see,
It could never make me happy;
And all my sandcastles
Spend their time collapsing.

Let me know that you hear me
Let me know your touch
Let me know that you love me
Let that be enough

It’s my birthday tomorrow;
No one here could know
I was born this Monday
Twenty-three years ago.
And I feel stuck watching history repeating.
Oh, am I just a kid who knows he’s needy?

Let me know that you hear me
Let me know your touch
Let me know that you love me
Let that be enough

I changed a few words.  But I didn't change what counts.  Let me know, God.

Jon

My life was jolted at Radiate07.  The story:

* * *

     I kept seeing her.  A girl whom I clearly knew, but every avenue down which my mind traveled to make the connection ended in silent frustration.  A previous conference?  A friend of a friend of someone from WVU?  I could stare at her all I wanted, but I had no idea who she was.  But I was unwilling to consider that the familiarity of her face was imagined.
     On one such occasion (staring, dead end, frowning in contemplation, staring more, obviously losing my mind steadily), Seidler was nearby.  Of course!  I could just ask him, because he knows about 93% of the people I know.  But Seidler's exact words were unwavering: "I've never seen that girl in my life."
     "I think I'm going over there to talk to her," I said.  The cost-benefit analysis was a quick one in my head -- I would run the risk of seeming like a creeper, or I would fruitlessly run circles through my mind to identify this girl until I fainted.  I don't like running of any kind, but there were only two options.
     But as soon as I was close enough to see her better, and words were awkwardly forming a question out of my mouth, memories flooded my mind.  Well, one distinct memory, anyway, and that was the image of this girl, whose name (April) dawned on me just then, in the Pennant Room of the Ambassador Inn in Ocean City, New Jersey, taking part in awesome theological conversations.
     Relief and excitement marked the conversation that followed.  The mystery had been cleared up, and in the process I had the pleasure of catching up with an old friend (she seemed like a close friend, though I'd known her two years ago for about 2.5 weeks).  Her family had been vacationing in OC when I was there for summer project, and for a few weeks she took part in more or less all our activities with us.  April introduced me to her friend Nikki, and soon I felt like I was a part of some Fairleigh-Dickinson family. 
     Things were about to take a turn for the unlikely, bizzare, miraculous, and frankly unbelievable.  April happily introduced me a few minutes later to a girl named Maria, a new staff member at her school and a very close friend of hers.  Maria immediately mistook me for someone else, not much of a surprise in a conference with a slightly disturbing number of big, bearded guys who looked like they should be wearing coonskin caps.
     About a third of a second after being introduced to Maria, and funny little thought began to pester me.  But it was a feeble one, one I planned on ignoring for the entirety of any conversation I might have with her.  It was a memory, actually, of a girl I'd met four years earlier.  At a spring break conference, I'd seen a girl weeping almost uncontrollably.  In a rare moment of compassion, I felt God urge me to pray for the hurting girl.  I fought the urge on grounds of "I'll look like a creeper" (it seems a common deterrent in my stories), but after receiving encouragement from Brian Barnett, I went ahead and asked the girl if she'd like me to pray for her. 
     And honestly, after four years, I could only remember two things about my actual conversation with the crying girl from freshman year -- her name was Maria, and she was from New Jersey.  The unlikelihood of these Marias being the same girl was so high that I thought it would be easy to keep myself from asking.  But since my decision to approach April had turned out so well, and Maria had already thought I was someone else, how much damage could I really do?  Suddenly my mouth was open and words were coming out:
     "I met a girl named Maria from Jersey like 4 or 5 years ago.  Her hair was different though."
     "My hair wasn't always like this," Maria said.
     "Yeah..." I had forgotten that people's hairstyles sometimes change.  "It was at a Big Break; I don't know if you've been there before..." I trailed off.
     Her face froze.  She seemed to talk in a whisper that didn't require her lips to move.  "How did you meet this girl at Big Break?" 
     "Um, she was crying, and I asked her if I could pray for her..."
     The moments that followed were thick with emotion that I could only stare at with eyes wide.  Maria repeated phrases like "Oh my God" and "You have no idea," while tears welled in her eyes and she exchanged looks of awe with April and Nikki.  I just awaited the explanation, already dazed at the sense that a lot of weird occurrences were lining up in such a way that joy and God's glory seemed the likely results.
     Maria then explained that when I prayed for her 4 years ago, it marked a turning point in her life.  Just minutes before, as she wept under the pressure of fear and confusion at her life's unraveling, she had cried out to God to send her a sign, a person who could show her that He cared for her and would rescue her from her circumstances.  Then there I was, awkwardly introducing myself and asking her if I could pray for her.  She said it was then that she knew, resolutely, that God loved her and would never abandon her, and that she immediately began serving Him in a way that ultimately led her to join staff with Crusade 3 years later.  She said to me, "You have no idea the impact you have had on my life."  And she was right.
     She said she'd had the opportunity to share her story hundreds of times the last few years, and without fail she would include that Big Break, and many times even the specific story of "the guy who prayed for her," in her story.  And there I was, that very guy, who could only remember two little details of the story.  As she wrapped up the explanation, I just hugged her, because A. I was filled with joy and B. I didn't know what words to say, and sometimes if you hug someone you're expected to say less.

* * *

     I saw April and Maria a few more times throughout the conference, and I don't know how to explain to you how I felt.  I wanted to just contantly grin at them slyly (this one actually was shot down by the creeper fear), because it was like we were in a divine conspiracy!  God's Spirit had prompted me to do something, something small, and He'd helped me overcome my fears to do it, and for all I knew it had been just some prayer to that girl. 
     But God changed her life through it!  She was never the same after that!  Are you kidding me?!  And then He pulled a stunt on me, where He reunited me with the girl and in doing so, He punted my doubts of His power and false feelings of inadequacy to serve Him into some other galaxy.  And how was the reunion orchestrated?  Through this other girl whom I had to approach in much the same way, fighting tides of awkwardness and references to the word 'creeper'.  And this wasn't some random girl; April has colabored with Maria for the gospel, become super close friends with her, learned from her... and to think that God pulled her into my life when she was on vacation...
     God's sovereignty is a glorious mystery that I want to drink in until I die.  And after I die.

     If God prompts us to do something, something small, who knows what He will do in so many people's lives through that thing.  And maybe, years later, He will do things in our own lives through that one small thing.

If my words have been unclear, it may be because I am still feeling the jolt.

Jon