I am spending Easter with my in-laws in Kentucky. I don’t get to see this part of the family as much as I would like, and I enjoy my time with them. We’ve been here since Friday, and leave tomorrow.

It’s Easter, and it ought to be one of the most meaningful days of the year for me, but every year it becomes more and more disappointing. Not because of my company–I really do enjoy spending time with the in-laws. Rather, it’s a day that brings out the worst in churches rather than their very best. Last week I got a flier in the mail from a local church advertising their Easter services. The church was running a special apparently: anyone who attended either service could get a free family portrait taken, or a photo with the Easter bunny. Churches don’t need to offer incentives, and they certainly do not need to be offering pictures with the Easter bunny on one of the most important days of the Christian calendar.

CKT and I took a nice walk tonight. He told me about books he wants to write, including one about what people keep in their backpacks.

Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that my boys stay home from school due to inclement weather. They are having a blast playing loudly and recklessly in every room of the house.

I have not accomplished much on my manuscripts in the past couple days. Wonder why?

Today was the first day in a while that I have not had an irregular meeting. My schedule was the “default” Tuesday schedule: writing, working on the self-study, meeting with an independent study student, pick-up CKT from school, exercise. So the fact that I got very little accomplished today is not the fault of my extra obligations.

I reviewed my handwritten notes this morning, and I came across this reflection from a couple days ago:

I want God to penetrate my life again. I want to be aware of God’s presence and activity.

Where are you, God? The oppressors claim to know you, but they do not. The oppressed want to know you, but suffer.

We are in hell! We’re there now. This is it. Separation from God.

I thirst for reconciliation.

We are in hell.

Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in Heaven.

We are not special. We should thank God for our blessings.

Good day today. I woke at 5:30 and worked on a manuscript for 45 minutes. At work I attended a teaching presentation, then led two good class sessions. I graded four projects, finished reviewing a script, and met with my graduate advisee. Then I came home and played with EJT for an hour before putting him to bed.

I woke up yesterday morning still feeling frustrated from the night before. I love my boys more than anything, but I also need frequent moments of space and peace to stay healthy. It’s becoming difficult to have both. So last night I took the family out to eat at Freddy’s and Feeney’s, then had a nice conversation with CKT about anxiety and quiet time.

Tonight CKT told me his happiness is like a pail. The happier he is, the more his metaphorical pail is filled with metaphorical happiness-water. But when someone makes him unhappy, that person scoops water out of his pail.

This morning I worked on my manuscripts for about ninety minutes. Then I answered email, then shut the computer down for a couple hours and took my lunch and work-in-progress to the faculty club. I had to use the bathroom while I was there, so I walked in to what must be the best-lit bathroom in North Carolina. Seriously. There is some high-quality portrait lighting in that bathroom. I even took a bathroom mirror selfie, it was that good. I’m thinking about taking my family to that bathroom for a family portrait.

It was a rough afternoon for the Trammell men. AMKT had a late haircut appointment, so I had CKT and EJT to myself from 3:30 until 8:00. By the end of the night, CKT was mad at me for making unreasonable demands (i.e., clean the playroom). He said I was being unfair to him.

I’ve started working on my manuscripts again. I spent an hour Monday morning and evening on my Hillsong United project, and another hour tonight addressing the numinous concept. It feels good to get back to work.

My Mac died last week. It would not boot up. I’m not sure what happened, but I’ll nonetheless blame it on a PC virus.

I am drafting this entry at a winery in the Blue Ridge Mountains. AMKT and I left Guilford County together without the children for the first time in months. I am upstairs reading The Hobbit while our group is tasting wine downstairs. Alcohol makes me depressed and anxious; reading and writing makes me intoxicated and lively.

The semester has gone well so far, although I have not worked on my manuscripts in a while. I put them away for a few weeks to prepare form my alumni talk, but the talk was postponed until March. Then I composed my 2014 self-evaluation instead of researching religion and mass media.

I’m still working my way through The Hobbit. Right now, Bilbo and the dwarves just escaped the Elvish Kingdom and are in the Lake City. They complain. A lot.

For the past couple years my university has sponsored many community service projects on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. I’ve participated in the past–it’s a good tradition, and it’s important to serve others, not only on Martin Luther Kind, Jr. Day, but everyday. But I did not work on a community service project today. Instead I worked with my graduate advisee for several hours on his capstone project. It was another way to serve another.

I also worked on my 2014 self-evaluation (due in ten days), and on my alumni talk (due in eight days). The talk is still coming together well. My goal is to have the draft completed on Friday, then spend the weekend working on a PowerPoint presentation. The talk is an opportunity to synthesize some of the dominant themes of my book in a non-academic environment. It’s always thrilling when people willingly listen to me talk about something I like.

I believe I nearly made CKT cry tonight. He was splashing around in the bathtub, carelessly pouring buckets of water on his head. I snapped at him to stop, saying I would get mad if he spilled water on the floor. Then I told him he looked foolish. He hung his head low a little, and I could tell I hit a nerve. When I was a little boy I was immature and acted foolish, and I believe it hurt my development a little. I don’t want CKT to struggle like I did, so I respond to his silliness a little more tersely than I ought. But CKT held it together, like a mature young person.

The first week of the semester is over. I’ve given two assignments, the first of many. There are no classes tomorrow–it’s Martin Luther King, Jr. Day–but I will meet with my graduate advisee for a couple hours to discuss his capstone project. I’ll also meet with the High Point Broadcasting Society.

I worked on my alumni talk this weekend. I’m trying to trim to a tight twenty-five minutes, or about twenty typed pages. (My presentation pages are double-spaced, 16-point American Typewriter font.) The more I work on it, the more I like it. I’m having trouble organizing it, though. I’m going to talk about three of my research projects–the Passion of the Christ marketing paper, the Jesus Calling digital app chapter, and the Hillsong United paper-in-progress–and I’m looking for a thread to make the three projects cohesive. I think I’m going to open with the current issues surrounding The Boy Who Went to Heaven.

Tonight I’m going to work on the talk a little more, and maybe read a chapter from The Hobbit.