Elmo, The Hippocampus, Paul, and God

Have you ever been in a Kohl’s or Target that is closing in 10 minutes and you’re one of 3 customers left in the store? You know it’s closing soon even without the intercom reminding you to head to the checkout lanes because that’s when the smooth jazz or Bruno Mars comes on. Sometimes, you wonder if you’ve heard the song before but don’t remember where from.

 

Well, I can now say I have entered into new territory when it comes to niche places to have music enter your brain and get stuck in the depths of it.

 

It was June 1^st, 2026, and my brain was playing this faint melody was doing that “smooth jazz when Target is closing” again. Only this time, I was at home and realizing there’s no way to look up the song when all that’s playing is the beat in my mind. Even as I write, I have drawn the conclusion that I can’t even write the beat down without the lyrics helping that beat come to life.

 

Though we usually remember him as helping toddlers with the ABCs, teaching us about how bees protect their queen, and interacting with other puppets on the famous Sesame Street, Elmo helped me in an unusual way: remembering the song that was stuck in my head.

 

Aside from changing poopy diapers, cutting up sweet potatoes into chewable sizes for a baby’s mouth, and playing Bluey on repeat for several hours, having Elmo’s “Letter of the Day: A!” song stuck in my head rather than any song an adult would hear on the radio is the ultimate indicator parenting season is here and there’s no turning back.

 

The point is, God designed the brain this way on purpose. What our senses capture – whether it’s hearing, tasting, feeling, sight, or smelling, our brain reminds us what we sensed. It’s why people who see something they wish they didn’t say, “I can’t unsee that,” or they cringe when an unwanted song comes on because they’re bound to spend the rest of the day trying to dislodge it from their brain – but too late, it’s stuck there.

 

By now, it sounds like God is using the brain to torture us, but here’s the truth:

It’s about what we choose to put inside our brain that counts.

 

According to WebMD.com, “[The Hippocampus’] largest job is to hold short-term memories and transfer them to long-term storage in our brains.” Outside of memory, the Hippocampus is also responsible for learning and emotion. WebMD also points out that since the Hippocampus of the brain deals with memories, and memories are involved with every day life, it plays an important, complex role. Therefore, it can “talk” to other parts of the brain, and it needs to if it deals with such a vital part survival. For example, we need to rely on what we remember about cooking if we want to feed ourselves. If we get a deep cut in our arm, we need to rely on memory and learned behavior to provide aid to the cut so it doesn’t become an infection. Or, in the corporate world, we need to rely on not only what we recall from memory, but our ability to adapt and learn better ways of doing the same thing if we are to remain effective in the work place.

 

One example from my own life of my senses developing a short-term memory into a long term one is when I bought the Newsboys album, Thrive (this was the Peter Furler Newsboys that I grew up listening to 20+ years ago) right before Spring break around 2002. I was in eight grade, and my family and I were headed to Gulf Shores, Alabama from Michigan in our little minivan, and that entire trip and this album will have an eternal bond that no one can break. When I hear “Million Pieces,” “Live in Stereo,” and “The Fad of the Land,” I am immediately transported back to the 2002 on 21^st floor of our condo overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. The sound of the album creates the long-term memory I had of Alabama and the fun times created there. It brings the memories from 25 years ago to the front of my mind like I went there just last month.

 

Back to Elmo, if I spend enough time with him through watching Netflix episodes, or listening to his music on Spotify, then his voice is going to play a big role in my brain and his catchy tune will transport me back to the many other times I listened and/or experienced Elmo.

 

When Paul wrote to the church in Philippi, his desire was for the people to focus on good things; in so many words, to fill the Hippocampus with things of God: “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” (Philippians 4:8-9, NLT) But then, he adds this zinger: “Keep putting to practice all you learned and received from me – everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then the God of peace will be with you.”

 

I believe this: to allow Elmo to truly invade the Hippocampus of my brain, I need to listen and put his words to practice. More fitting would be if my toddler listened to Elmo’s catchy song, then practiced what the little red puppet monster sang in the song. Next thing you know, Calvin is speaking in full sentences by two years old because of Elmo’s hit song.

 

Or, in my case, put people like Paul in my life and fill my day the words of God on a daily basis that draws me closer to the Truth and what God says about me. The Hippocampus wants and “thrives” off of connection with God. Why wouldn’t it? If Paul is as connected to Christ as he says in all of his letters – in Acts 20:24, he says, “None of these things move me…so that I finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus”) – then if the church in Philippi would be wise to practice all they “learned and received from [him].”

 

Choose today to fill your brain with Paul’s words, Jesus’ words, and the words of God. Choose today to surround yourself with people who love God deeply. Fuel your Hippocampus with memories with the Lord, and let it transfer those short-term memories to long-term.

 

“…Then the God of peace will be with you.”

 

According to Paul

 

“What’s the letter? Clap, clap. What’s the Letter? Clap, clap.”

 

According to Elmo.

 

More Than a Child's Play Thing?

 Have you ever been confronted by another human who tried so hard to convince you that you are not a space ranger? That you’re just a human? Maybe not, but there is a lot more in common with you and Buzz than you think.

Toy Story has a lot of aspects that I love about it, number one being that the concept of toys being living things when the humans are not present is such a classic idea for any sort of film. It is also one my entire childhood identifies with: I played with all of my toys like they were educated, English-speaking humans who lived their daily lives the way humans do.

 

Sometimes, my sister and I played with Barbies and Hot Wheels cars/Legos the exact same way Toy Story portrayed the relationship between living toys and the human race. She would play with the Barbies like they were real human beings, and I would use my Lego collection to pretend they came to life when no one was looking and use the cars as their transportation.

 

Mostly, though, we didn’t incorporate the toys becoming fake again when humans were around, but we did give our Beanie Babies, bead lizards, Hot Wheels Cars, stuffed animals, even Kohl’s models we’d cut out of catalogues lives, personalities, jobs, hobbies, and adventures they’d go on every free moment we had to play with them. It was what our childhood imaginations gave us when video games, television, and Rollercoaster Tycoon on the PC were only limited to 30 minutes a day. God bless my parents for helping us develop such strange, yet creative imaginations.

 

For example, my little sister and I pretended the staircase leading from the second floor to the main floor was a gigantic waterfall only comparable to Multnomah Falls directly south of Seattle (which I’d recommend for anyone who loves hiking, amazing views, and/or waterfalls). While the fake waterfall did what real waterfalls do, our Beanie Babies, for reasons unknown to this day, were all trapped on the edges of that waterfall, and the only way they would survive is to make it to the top of the stairs.

 

To make matters more interesting, each step filled with our favorite Beanie Babies were backstories and pieces of information pulled directly from our brains about each Beanie Baby. Information about how they got there, their level of motivation to make it to the top, and how willing they were to help the others out were shared with great energy, enthusiasm, and detail. If you’re thinking we wouldn’t last 20 minutes until we got bored, you’re wrong. We would take a break for dinner, but if anyone messed with our setup, we would excommunicate them from our lives.

 

The second thing I love about Toy Story is the depth the director goes into with character development. The older I get, and the more I watch it, the deeper I go into the minds of Buzz, Woody, and any toy that has a more than three lines in the movie. For example, the average viewer would say Woody is jealous of Buzz being so much better than him and all of the other toys. But the reason Woody is jealous is only revealed to the audience member who strategically performs an exegesis on the movie and the main characters. I guess you could do an exegesis on Mr. Potato Head, but it might be more difficult than, say, Buzz or Woody. My theory is Woody is jealous of Buzz or any other modern toy replacing Woody, which means Woody has some abandonment issues that a therapist needs to take him through – especially considering that literally every toy (even Bo Peep) loves the addition of Buzz except for Woody.

 

Recently, I watched Toy Story with my 5^th grade class and there is scene that stood out to me among the rest – to me, this is representative of what makes Toy Story so special: the more you watch and rewatch the film, the more that is revealed to you. To set the scene, Woody and Buzz are trapped in Sid’s room, and Sid is still asleep. Either Sid is missing school again or it’s Saturday, but since Andy is also home and it’s right before the big move, I lean towards it being Saturday. Buzz is strapped to “The Big One,” the firework that Sid planned on blowing Buzz to smithereens with the day before but the weather postponed the event. Woody was about to be the one who is strapped to the firework right before the rain delayed Sid’s plan, but he makes it to a blue milk crate in time to hide while Buzz, depressed from learning he is not just a toy, but a toy that can’t fly, receives his rocket fate without fighting it. In fact, Sid is right about to head out to the backyard to follow through with the plan until rain comes pouring down. Sid winds up his alarm clock and goes to sleep, which gives Woody time to give Buzz a pep talk that eventually snaps him out of his depressed funk and leaps him, rocket strapped to his back and all, into action:

Buzz: No Woody, for the first time I am thinking clearly. You were right all along. I'm not a Space Ranger, I'm just a toy, a stupid little insignificant toy.
Woody: Whoa, wait a minute. Being a toy is a lot better than being a "Space Ranger."
Buzz: Yeah, right.
Woody: No, it is. Look, over in that house is a kid who thinks you're the greatest, and it's not because you're a Space Ranger, it's because you're a toy. You are his toy.
Buzz: But why would Andy want me?
Woody: Why would Andy want you?! Look at you! You're a Buzz Lightyear! Any other toy would give up its moving parts just to be you! You've got wings! You glow in the dark! You talk! Your helmet does that, that, that whoosh thing! You are a cool toy! As a matter of fact, you're too cool. 

When I watched this scene with Buzz and Woody, and I take out the fact that Woody spends a majority of this film acting petty, insecure, and constantly compares himself to a toy out of his league, these lines sound a lot like me talking to Jesus trying to convince him I’m just some stupid, insignificant person who can’t shock the world with my amazingness. Then Jesus responds by redirecting my thoughts to believe in what is true.

I’ve spent a majority of my life playing the role of both characters, Buzz and Woody. Not because I think I landed on Sector 12 instead of Earth, or I think I can fly, or I have a string attached to my back that says, “There’s a snake in my boot” when pulled. I have shared the same mindset as Woody, who lost sight of himself when a shiny, new toy with better gadgets and lights shows up on the bed; he even admits it at the end of the scene mentioned above:

“As a matter of fact, you're too cool. I mean, what chance does a toy like me have against a Buzz Lightyear action figure? …Why would Andy ever want to play with me, when he's got you? I'm the one that should be strapped to that rocket.”

 

When I’m not Woody, I am Buzz refusing to accept who he really is because he has been programmed to believe he’s something he is not. Does Buzz have control over it? That’s for another blog; however, like Buzz, I am blinded by lies. I believe what makes Toy Story 1 a masterpiece is that these two toys with incredible strengths and weaknesses are bonded together over time, but they both are so relatable to how I behave when I wander from the truth about how God sees me.

 

The ultimate point is this: even if I am a space ranger, that’s not what makes me amazing. Andy doesn’t love Buzz because he acts like a space ranger, it’s because he’s a cool toy. God doesn’t love me because I’m a teacher, and he doesn’t love you because of your occupation. He loves you because he thought of you when he made you. He loves you because he put time into designing you just the way you are.

 

Furthermore, just because a space ranger shows up in my life, doesn’t mean I am less loved by God. Often, I do this with people who God has allowed me to cross paths with in my lifetime: I’m less awesome because Blake owns a Tesla and I don’t. I’m less distinguished as a teacher because my fifth grade team is all caught up on grades but I’m not. I am not a good father because my wife knows what  to feed him and I still don’t. Lies. Just like Woody believing he’s being replaced because he doesn’t have a laser pointer on his wrist, wings that pop out of his back, and a space helmet that covers his face at the push of a button, among the many other buttons.

 

Woody or Buzz,  I am just like both, whether I am refusing to accept my true identity, even if it is much better than being a Space Ranger, or I am busy comparing my existence to someone completely unrelated and worrying about being replaced. Either way, both mindsets are built on a foundation of lies, causing me to stray far from the truth I should just staple to my forehead at this point:

Psalm 139:14: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

 

If I am pointing fingers at anyone, it’s me. I spend so much time crafting the perfect classroom – when one piece gets ruined, or my day doesn’t match my vision when I created the lesson plans for the week, I throw a tantrum similar to the one Woody has when they are stuck at the Dinoco gas station under the large semi-truck:

 

Woody: “This is the perfect time to panic! I’m lost, Andy is gone, they’re going to move from their house in two days and it’s all your fault!”

 

After Buzz tries to deflect blame back to Woody, Woody refuses to accept any responsibility and accountability for his own flawed belief:

 

Woody: “Oh yeah? Well, if you hadn’t shown up in your stupid little cardboard spaceship and taken away everything that was important to me –”

 

The path of lies Woody chooses to walk down causes him to isolate himself from a partnership with Buzz, who could ultimately help get them back to Andy. This same path also convinces Woody that thinking logically is out of the question and relying on blame to ease his mind is the only solution – in fact, it’s the reason the movie is over 1 hour long!

 

Imagine how the conversation goes if Woody let the Scriptures guide him:

Woody: “While I do feel sad and upset that I am separated from Andy, I trust Buzz and I can work together to get back to my owner. In fact, I could use this opportunity to form a bond with Buzz that will hopefully allow us to get back to Andy and even coexist in the same bedroom!”

 

Of course, then the movie would end 30 minutes into the film, but it’s a good reminder of how much drama I let into my own life when I forget my roots in Christ.

 

To be fully invested in what Christ thinks of me – to wrap myself tightly around the truth of how God sees me – is to remove any distractions from a life well lived. God’s truth empowers us, because when we are empowered, we step out in faith to look like Jesus in the midst of obstacles that come our way. The truth calms us when the pressure of the world around us feels to immense, and it grounds us when the lies feel too similar to the truth.

 

There’s no better way to conclude than to bring to the light one of the steadiest Toy Story characters in the film, Bo Peep:

“I know Andy’s excited about Buzz. But you know he’ll always have a special place for you.”

God is overjoyed when people live in his truth about them, but he always has a special place for you – after all, unlike Andy, he made all of creation, which includes you. Of course he has a special place for you, and you are irreplaceable.

From the Mountains to the Valleys - What Goes Up, Must Come Down

“…the real fight only begins when you’re away from the camp. Never relax so long as you’re in enemy territory. Never get drunk with freedom…for you never know who is lying in the bushes.”

This quote derives from The Auschwitz Escape, a historical fiction book by Joel C. Rosenberg about the courageous escape of two prisoners from the Auschwitz Concentration Camp* during World War II.

*To be abundantly clear up front, I am not comparing my own first-world difficulties to the horrors and atrocities a prisoner of Auschwitz experienced for years of their life. I am comparing my spiritual journey and the experiences that come with it to any camp that isolates you from the real world so you can gain experience in a particular area of your life that the camp provides, promotes, or dictates. It is purely coincidental that the quote comes from a book about the Holocaust.

One of the common phrases I heard in church circles growing up, especially as summer youth group trips wrapped up and we were a short three weeks away from the start of another school year, was “the spiritual high won’t last forever”, “you will eventually come down from the mountaintop and back to reality,” or “the hard part is not being on the spiritual high, but what you do when you get back to the routine.”

It wasn’t just a warning to all of us young Christians trying to understand our newfound faith or rediscover it in new ways, but foreshadowing about the difficulties to come. I still remember those pep talks, with 72 of preteens and young adults crammed in one room whose layout more closely resembled a cheap motel’s Continental Breakfast space than a place to gather large groups. The theme of the meeting was designed for worship, prayer, and reflection, but most of the conversation stemmed around what to expect after this “mountaintop high” ends and we’re faced with secular reality again.

For the entirety of these summer youth conferences, I recall how invincible I felt because of the loads of inspiration I gobbled up like a starving child. There was no way I would fall victim to my old habits, no way, and most importantly, nothing would stand between my strengthened relationship with God. How could I? I am a new creation, and the emotions I felt on these trips were evidence that no obstacle Satan threw my way would cause me to crumble! I repented, I prayed harder than I’ve ever prayed before, and I memorized worship songs declaring my commitment to the Lord while filling my notebook with sermon notes from Francis Chan, so no worldly desire was strong enough to overcome my bond with Jesus after this. On top of all of this, I had a testimony ready to share with my church upon, my return from traveling out of state. Boy, was I naïve, even if the experiences I had were authentic.

Don’t get me wrong, all of the spiritual things I did on these trips did strengthen me spiritually and did prepare me for the “valleys” of life, but it still didn’t adequately address the pressing question: “What do we do after our supernatural experience is over and we’re thrown back into the world full of people who don’t share the same revelations you did?” When you go on these youth trips, you’re likely one of the 95% of the group who shares the same core thoughts about God. When you reenter society, you become the minority who believes Christ is your Savior and best friend. Will the foundation from the youth conference inspiration I collected in my heart and mind be strong enough for the primetime fight I would endure in the world's boxing ring?

For me personally, these youth group experiences on the mountaintop with God not only gave me steady doses of healthy community and shed more light on who the Creator is, but it affirmed that my choice to pursue Him back was the best choice I ever made in this life. They affirmed me enough to go into the fight outside of the camp with more resources, relationships with other believers, and a strengthened resolve to follow Christ faithfully. So, yes, I would say I did feel strongly that the mountaintop experiences did help me face the giants of the secular world. However, I couldn't face them alone.

With the right people in place, found within these camp experiences, life outside of the four-walls of camp didn't feel like a nightmare or a path to inevitable spiritual destruction because the church community I found myself would enter that same real world as me. However, if I didn't fill my days outside of the camp with accountability and those who pour into my spiritual wellbeing, I would likely be swallowed up by how the world defines God, not how the Word defines Him.

While danger is found hiding in the thick brush waiting to pounce on you, discipleship through accountability is walking through it with you, chopping through the brush with a machete to expose the enemy who is lying there. The machete is the Word of God, what He says about you, and how to respond to anything that does not sound like the truth, and discipleship is the community you're a part of holding that machete. It takes discipline, training, and consistent loyalty to seeking wisdom in the midst of the distractions and lies of the world.

• You don't need God.
• There is no way God exists with all of this evil in the world.
• If God does exist, he's not a good God.
• Just do you. God will only restrict you from doing what you want.
• Why should you follow a God who hurts you? 
• What's the point in being a Christian when you're doing just fine without him?
• You'll be happier doing what you want instead of following God and all of his rules

Some of these lies come from influences around you, and some of them occur in your mind when your experiences with the world don't align with the God you thought you believed in. Either way, without the community we are told to "spur on with love and good deeds, not giving up meeting [with]...but encouraging one another" (Hebrews 10:24-25), we will likely be persuaded by the darkness of the world and taken captive by it - by those lying in the bushes.

When I was a college student attending a university of less than 3,000 students and preparing for my final years of education before embarking on my new career as a classroom teacher, a common phrase I overheard was, “There is no better preparation for teaching than the experience itself.” In other words, to be a good teacher, you have to embrace the challenge of being the teacher in the classroom first. Despite having amazing, approachable professors who knew the education field well and cared, with deep conviction, about my present wellbeing and future success as a teacher,  spending all of my time listening to their lectures, reading the assigned textbooks, taking quality notes, and even observing other elementary school teachers in their classroom were not going to give me the right kind of experience I needed than to call the classroom my own and run it the way I believe it needs to be run.  I would never know what I was capable of if I got my degree in Elementary Education just to shelf it for the rest of my life without trying on the pants to see if they fit.

We can have powerful, supernatural experiences with God on the mountaintop, surrounded by other believers who encourage you in those experiences, and I would encourage that for anyone. You can never have too many godly mountaintop experiences, but you won't know where your faith stands until you step foot outside of the camp and into the world around you. Oswald Chambers once wrote, "We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life- those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life, and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength." 

Throughout the years, I have personally enjoyed seeing victory over these enemies because I have engaged godly council not just when I’m on the mountaintop high, but when I’m in the valley, searching for answers that are already in front of me. In the book of James, we are warned that a man who does not do what the Word says is like a man who looks in the mirror but forget what he looks like when he leaves; a part from the Word, we lose our identity in the things the world tries to satisfy us with. Without discipleship in the valley, we are more likely to be that man who forgets his identity. We spend so much time reveling in our freedom that we lose focus of the fact we’re still in enemy territory - in the valley; the valley requires you to be armed with accountability and the Word of God; without it, it’ll swallow you whole. 

When we're on the mountain, we must consider why we're there: to grab onto the inspiration that comes from the Lord in order to take it to the valley when we or our community needs it. To relax in enemy territory means to forget what the mountaintop is for and why the valley exists. Though there is nothing wrong in anticipating the mountaintop, the test comes when we enter the valley after the mountaintop experience has concluded.

We should come down from that mountain with inspiration and use it in the valley to prove our stamina and strength. But we need discipleship and accountability to know when and how to use it in the darkest of times. We can be a light in a dark world that needs Jesus by how we approach both the valley and the mountain with purpose, conviction, and the community that reminds us of our identity and the inspiration we found in Christ.

What will you do with the mountaintop experience?