For who is greater: he who speaks, or he who listens?
I will not "apply" the Scriptures to my life.
I will apply myself to the Scriptures.
(so, do it.)
2.4.09
10.3.09
Slumber and death
In a possible leak of what I will talk about tomorrow at the PA meeting, I feel compelled to share this quote from A Resilient Life by Gordon MacDonald:
"Humility is freedom from thinking about yourself."
It may be empowering to frame humility in this context. I assure you, this is the message that Christ conveyed with his life in regards to selflessness. He said that we will know the truth, and the truth will set us free. What many do not read on to find out is that the Jews were stunned when he said this. Basically, they scratched their heads and replied,
"Free? Free from what?"
From sin, of course. That's what he said. From egocentrism-- from self-centered, narcissistic, God-usurping self-concentration. The truth will set us free. That truth walked out of the city with death strapped to his back and assured everyone who followed him that this life is not for us to hold onto, it is for us to give. The truth is humility, it's selflessness. He said,
"If I didn't have to do this, I wouldn't. But I entrust myself to your will, Father."
Well, shoot. No one said it was easy. I won't romanticize daily suffering-- it is what it is, and it sucks. For some reason, the powerful drug that enflamed the bones of prophets and apostles has been turned into hopeless, helpless tylenol PM... good for minor aches, pains, and sleeping. I noticed it in chapel today: in myself and in everyone else. We're asleep.
I don't think I've ever read anything in the Bible that says anything good about people who fall asleep.
Tradition supports the humble. Scripture stands behind the selfless. Reason causes us to desire it. Experience makes us know it is good. I don't see anywhere we can fight this, brothers and sisters. We've got to wake up and free ourselves from thinking about ourselves!
"Humility is freedom from thinking about yourself."
It may be empowering to frame humility in this context. I assure you, this is the message that Christ conveyed with his life in regards to selflessness. He said that we will know the truth, and the truth will set us free. What many do not read on to find out is that the Jews were stunned when he said this. Basically, they scratched their heads and replied,
"Free? Free from what?"
From sin, of course. That's what he said. From egocentrism-- from self-centered, narcissistic, God-usurping self-concentration. The truth will set us free. That truth walked out of the city with death strapped to his back and assured everyone who followed him that this life is not for us to hold onto, it is for us to give. The truth is humility, it's selflessness. He said,
"If I didn't have to do this, I wouldn't. But I entrust myself to your will, Father."
Well, shoot. No one said it was easy. I won't romanticize daily suffering-- it is what it is, and it sucks. For some reason, the powerful drug that enflamed the bones of prophets and apostles has been turned into hopeless, helpless tylenol PM... good for minor aches, pains, and sleeping. I noticed it in chapel today: in myself and in everyone else. We're asleep.
I don't think I've ever read anything in the Bible that says anything good about people who fall asleep.
Tradition supports the humble. Scripture stands behind the selfless. Reason causes us to desire it. Experience makes us know it is good. I don't see anywhere we can fight this, brothers and sisters. We've got to wake up and free ourselves from thinking about ourselves!
7.3.09
Course correction
I don't mind the dark. I'm serious. When I walk into places unknown, I embrace the fear and the reality that I don't know where I'm going. It's fun for me to fly without a flightplan. But when the lights click on, that's when I'm disquieted. I fidget, and I can't sit still for the life of me.
Maybe walking in the dark leads me to believe that God will provide everything I need to live the way I think he wants me to. Of course, he does provide, but not always what I want. And when where I thought I was going becomes a lot farther away, it's easy for me to be discouraged. Optimism is easier when you can't see the destination.
Then, in the dark, I don't see who I am. I assume that living my life that way pleases God, because of the chances I take and the trials I face. I can tell myself that the way I've set up this furniture in my room has a special spiritual method, and it's good because of how my life happens around it in the reaching dark. The light reveals how completely unsatisfied I am with this room.
Don't take this the wrong way: this is not some kind of existential crisis. I know who I am, and I know where I came from. But I feel like where I want to be is even farther away than it used to be. Was this planned, or was this because of my lack of a plan? Time will tell. In the mean time, no matter how tired I am, no matter how the path is revealed, no matter how sick I get, I can continue to run forward. And I will.
Changing direction, I think, doesn't mean I was rebelling-- it means I was going somewhere. The wrong direction, though.
Maybe walking in the dark leads me to believe that God will provide everything I need to live the way I think he wants me to. Of course, he does provide, but not always what I want. And when where I thought I was going becomes a lot farther away, it's easy for me to be discouraged. Optimism is easier when you can't see the destination.
Then, in the dark, I don't see who I am. I assume that living my life that way pleases God, because of the chances I take and the trials I face. I can tell myself that the way I've set up this furniture in my room has a special spiritual method, and it's good because of how my life happens around it in the reaching dark. The light reveals how completely unsatisfied I am with this room.
Don't take this the wrong way: this is not some kind of existential crisis. I know who I am, and I know where I came from. But I feel like where I want to be is even farther away than it used to be. Was this planned, or was this because of my lack of a plan? Time will tell. In the mean time, no matter how tired I am, no matter how the path is revealed, no matter how sick I get, I can continue to run forward. And I will.
Changing direction, I think, doesn't mean I was rebelling-- it means I was going somewhere. The wrong direction, though.
25.2.09
I'm the Shredder.
As the camera zooms in on a giant pile of textbooks, papers, references, meeting agendas, and lists of missed calls, I'm waiting to see the hand punch through the side of the mound in dramatic resistance to the onslaught.
Because like the Shredder, I'll probably look back on being covered in garbage and laugh. Then I'll want revenge.
Like the Shredder in TMNT II.
Because like the Shredder, I'll probably look back on being covered in garbage and laugh. Then I'll want revenge.
9.2.09
6.2.09
Stewardship and submission
(Foreword: this is an essay I had to write for an internship application. I had to describe my interests in environmental science, including my coursework and extracurricular activities.)
“In all things of nature, there is something of the marvelous.” This was said by Aristotle in Parts of Animals, more than 2,000 years before my birth. His aged wisdom may be trapped behind the bars of a history book prison, to be interrogated by the mind of a historian and not one of an observer; but it can live on in my own ways. Nature is, aside from all others, beautiful—this makes its preservation, in my opinion, a worthy end in itself. However, a definitive practicality for this emerges from our own needs as a human species, as well. It is quite obvious to me, at the very least, that humans are offered a choice of interaction with their environment: we may act as blackmailing parasites, or as mutually benevolent partners. In either instance, I believe it follows that care for the environment serves not only my ontology, but my deontology as well.
Realistically, humans are as much of a product of their environment as any other animal. In the way I believe God has intended, we have developed into a species that is quite capable of thriving in a very specific way. It helps to mention, though, that we exist quite differently from other animals. In our case, it is easy to forget that the earth upon which we set out feet, our homes, our cars, and our factories is our biological cradle and fate in common. In a Biblical sense, it is the dust from which we rise, and to which we return. Having our fates so intrinsically combined, should I not make an intentional effort to see its health, its majesty, and its beauty preserved? The earth freely gave us life in the beginning of Genesis, and because of our faults, we now subsist on our exploitation of its life. It is not only my duty to preserve what the earth is and should be, but my right. The God-given gift of life is not one to be mindlessly squandered or stubbornly dismissed as entitlement. It is because of my interest in the conservation of life and beauty that my relationship with the environment has been watermarked by a sense of mutual respect and service, with all that I do.
Stamped across the syllabi of every science course I have taken at Spring Arbor is this commitment to Biblical stewardship. I remember specifically the arduous complication of methods in organic chemistry labs in favor of processes that were “greener” than simpler methods—altogether exemplary of this commitment. In a way, I have continued this course in my participation with a project on campus, designed to utilize biodiesel instead of normal fossil fuels. My work in biology courses served my commitment on a much more macroscopic scale. Ecology led me to see the de-magnified nature of nature, and the infinitely complex machines that exist to preserve the lives of individuals and groups. In zoology, botany, cell biology, and biological chemistry, the work I put forth guided me through the discovery of the various ways that smaller, but even more complex machines preserve life as a whole.
As I have explained to my classmates on several occasions, the detail and complexity with which I understand the world has exposed me to a very unique beauty; a beauty I had not previously known, nor appreciated. How could I leave this angel to be forced to descend to the hell of human greed, to the depravity of one-sided and silent disdain? To those uninterested in the aesthetic, are not our fates bound to that of the earth? There is no way for me to distance myself from its majesty, or from the giving submission of nature—so must I choose to submit to nature, in both gratitude and duty.
“In all things of nature, there is something of the marvelous.” This was said by Aristotle in Parts of Animals, more than 2,000 years before my birth. His aged wisdom may be trapped behind the bars of a history book prison, to be interrogated by the mind of a historian and not one of an observer; but it can live on in my own ways. Nature is, aside from all others, beautiful—this makes its preservation, in my opinion, a worthy end in itself. However, a definitive practicality for this emerges from our own needs as a human species, as well. It is quite obvious to me, at the very least, that humans are offered a choice of interaction with their environment: we may act as blackmailing parasites, or as mutually benevolent partners. In either instance, I believe it follows that care for the environment serves not only my ontology, but my deontology as well.
Realistically, humans are as much of a product of their environment as any other animal. In the way I believe God has intended, we have developed into a species that is quite capable of thriving in a very specific way. It helps to mention, though, that we exist quite differently from other animals. In our case, it is easy to forget that the earth upon which we set out feet, our homes, our cars, and our factories is our biological cradle and fate in common. In a Biblical sense, it is the dust from which we rise, and to which we return. Having our fates so intrinsically combined, should I not make an intentional effort to see its health, its majesty, and its beauty preserved? The earth freely gave us life in the beginning of Genesis, and because of our faults, we now subsist on our exploitation of its life. It is not only my duty to preserve what the earth is and should be, but my right. The God-given gift of life is not one to be mindlessly squandered or stubbornly dismissed as entitlement. It is because of my interest in the conservation of life and beauty that my relationship with the environment has been watermarked by a sense of mutual respect and service, with all that I do.
Stamped across the syllabi of every science course I have taken at Spring Arbor is this commitment to Biblical stewardship. I remember specifically the arduous complication of methods in organic chemistry labs in favor of processes that were “greener” than simpler methods—altogether exemplary of this commitment. In a way, I have continued this course in my participation with a project on campus, designed to utilize biodiesel instead of normal fossil fuels. My work in biology courses served my commitment on a much more macroscopic scale. Ecology led me to see the de-magnified nature of nature, and the infinitely complex machines that exist to preserve the lives of individuals and groups. In zoology, botany, cell biology, and biological chemistry, the work I put forth guided me through the discovery of the various ways that smaller, but even more complex machines preserve life as a whole.
As I have explained to my classmates on several occasions, the detail and complexity with which I understand the world has exposed me to a very unique beauty; a beauty I had not previously known, nor appreciated. How could I leave this angel to be forced to descend to the hell of human greed, to the depravity of one-sided and silent disdain? To those uninterested in the aesthetic, are not our fates bound to that of the earth? There is no way for me to distance myself from its majesty, or from the giving submission of nature—so must I choose to submit to nature, in both gratitude and duty.
2.2.09
What it looks like when I cave
Well, nuts. I suppose I've gotta write down 25 random things about myself. But I'm not telling you to read them.
1) Contrary to popular belief, I am not "missing" fingers. They didn't fall off or anything, that's silly. My fingers are, simply, very cleverly disguised by each other, having fused while I was in the womb. (science!)
2) I bought a FC Bayern Munich jacket in Germany. The next day, I discovered that my German ancestors are from Stuttgart. This is the equivalent of a Red Sox fan buying a Yankees jersey. Whoops.
3) Phlebotomy might be my life calling. I actually think it's a lot of fun to draw blood out of other people. This makes me a vampire, I think.
4) I was baptized as a Catholic. Technically, I've been a Catholic for most of my life-- right up until SLR 2007.
5) More often than not, I don't have a plan. Ever. Flying by the seat of my pants has made life both fun and extremely challenging.
6) I used to live on an island, and it was lame.
7) On that note, I've been in the eye of a hurricane. Incredibly surreal.
8) And on that note, I celebrated my eighth birthday while evacuating for Hurricane Bonnie in '96. We still had cake!
9) I love underdogs.
10) I sincerely hope that people don't think I'm trying to be a snob when I read philosophy books. I honestly do enjoy them, and I seriously considered being either a philosophy major or minor.
11) In my senior year of high school, I wrote a research paper on the negative effect of Santa Claus on our society. In doing so, I not only received an A, but also labeled Santa as a drunk and compared him to Stalin.
12) Writing is a minor hobby of mine. I have a notebook of poems that I've written, dating back to tenth grade. Don't ask to read them.
13) My brother and I taught my dad how to play Call of Duty 2. When we're together, at least one family deathmatch is required.
14) Sujon is the name of a child from Bangladesh that I sponsor through Compassion International. He is probably the coolest kid in the universe, and has partially inspired me to become a volunteer advocate for Compassion. You might see me at some tables soon...
15) I think ska is the greatest genre of music in the history of stuff.
16) I was chopped in the throat with a foam sword during my first and only game of Dagorhir.
17) I discovered very young that eating too many Skittles in one sitting will start to bore a hole in your tongue.
18) I used to play the trumpet. I was pretty good, too.
19) I totally freaked out when I beat a song on Expert in Rock Band (drums, "I Think I'm Paranoid" by Garbage). Just ask all of the people I told about it.
20) I've had six years overall of study in French, and I've only really used it twice.
21) My dream job is a public health administrator in East or North Africa.
22) Despite the amount of griping I make about it, I really enjoyed a lot of my job at the front desk of a hotel. I wouldn't mind doing it again.
23) I'm a fidgeter. I'm also a nail-biter.
24) I shot a deer once. It had sixteen pounds of meat on it. I felt terrible, but it tasted really good.
25) I am happiest when I know that someone else is better because of me.
1) Contrary to popular belief, I am not "missing" fingers. They didn't fall off or anything, that's silly. My fingers are, simply, very cleverly disguised by each other, having fused while I was in the womb. (science!)
2) I bought a FC Bayern Munich jacket in Germany. The next day, I discovered that my German ancestors are from Stuttgart. This is the equivalent of a Red Sox fan buying a Yankees jersey. Whoops.
3) Phlebotomy might be my life calling. I actually think it's a lot of fun to draw blood out of other people. This makes me a vampire, I think.
4) I was baptized as a Catholic. Technically, I've been a Catholic for most of my life-- right up until SLR 2007.
5) More often than not, I don't have a plan. Ever. Flying by the seat of my pants has made life both fun and extremely challenging.
6) I used to live on an island, and it was lame.
7) On that note, I've been in the eye of a hurricane. Incredibly surreal.
8) And on that note, I celebrated my eighth birthday while evacuating for Hurricane Bonnie in '96. We still had cake!
9) I love underdogs.
10) I sincerely hope that people don't think I'm trying to be a snob when I read philosophy books. I honestly do enjoy them, and I seriously considered being either a philosophy major or minor.
11) In my senior year of high school, I wrote a research paper on the negative effect of Santa Claus on our society. In doing so, I not only received an A, but also labeled Santa as a drunk and compared him to Stalin.
12) Writing is a minor hobby of mine. I have a notebook of poems that I've written, dating back to tenth grade. Don't ask to read them.
13) My brother and I taught my dad how to play Call of Duty 2. When we're together, at least one family deathmatch is required.
14) Sujon is the name of a child from Bangladesh that I sponsor through Compassion International. He is probably the coolest kid in the universe, and has partially inspired me to become a volunteer advocate for Compassion. You might see me at some tables soon...
15) I think ska is the greatest genre of music in the history of stuff.
16) I was chopped in the throat with a foam sword during my first and only game of Dagorhir.
17) I discovered very young that eating too many Skittles in one sitting will start to bore a hole in your tongue.
18) I used to play the trumpet. I was pretty good, too.
19) I totally freaked out when I beat a song on Expert in Rock Band (drums, "I Think I'm Paranoid" by Garbage). Just ask all of the people I told about it.
20) I've had six years overall of study in French, and I've only really used it twice.
21) My dream job is a public health administrator in East or North Africa.
22) Despite the amount of griping I make about it, I really enjoyed a lot of my job at the front desk of a hotel. I wouldn't mind doing it again.
23) I'm a fidgeter. I'm also a nail-biter.
24) I shot a deer once. It had sixteen pounds of meat on it. I felt terrible, but it tasted really good.
25) I am happiest when I know that someone else is better because of me.
25.1.09
A letter to nature
Dear Nature,
Despite the great efforts you have put forward against me in the past decade, I totally ate some eggs last night. And they were delicious.
In your face,
James
Despite the great efforts you have put forward against me in the past decade, I totally ate some eggs last night. And they were delicious.
In your face,
James
24.1.09
Who needs a TV?
It is not a party until you're calibrating a water-filtration pitcher to eliminate all the carbon dust, while wondering if Airborne NightTime is supposed to make bubbles that fast, and cooking a six-months' frozen turkey pot pie at 2:30 in the morning.
Take it. We know how to get down in 103.
[Edit: this pot pie is all dark meat! $0.69, Meijer??? I got ripped off.]
Take it. We know how to get down in 103.
[Edit: this pot pie is all dark meat! $0.69, Meijer??? I got ripped off.]
20.1.09
Propane and policemen
It strikes me as very odd that so many people around me have found it easy to be pessimistic about the next four years. Barack Obama, I think, speaks of a vision that has long been cast by political cynics, whom constitute most of my generation. Does he have the power to vanquish the political dogmas and infighting that make so many of us prefer to vomit than participate?
Well, no. Not by himself, and not in the time allotted.
However, he does represent a popular desire to change the way our representative sovereign state takes care of business around here. We're very lucky to have things the way they are, I'm convinced. Americans enjoy the kind of social freedoms that most of the world can only pray to have. The very fact that Obama was elected by a group of hundreds of millions of people is a testament to the unparalleled collaboration of philosophies of both liberty and community that exists in our nation. I'm proud to have been a part of it... sort of (I did vote for Nader). He is as hopeful as he is optimistic. And wouldn't you know, he and everyone else on that platform this afternoon spoke the words that we needed to hear:
Together, we've thrived; and together, we will continue to do so.
From this, though, we must temper the stoked fire of the desire of progress with the tradition of respect. The problems faced by our society are those provoked by a lack of ethical behavior.
Bankers who conspired to alleviate us of our money, instead of care for it on our behalf.
A long-planned and criminal occupation of a foreign nation, cleverly disguised as a "war", against a faceless enemy, who displays immeasurable qualities of both hatred and resolve; which is justified by a romanticized desire for global peace.
The postmodern family faces its worst challenges yet-- and their failures lead to a list of obvious, pervasive, and grinding defeats.
The popular disintegration of values regarding the life and well-being of another, to the end of personal convenience.
I hate to rain on the parade, but I can't help but point out just a few of the "gathering clouds and raging storms" Obama mentioned. He definitely has his work cut out for him...
... and so do we.
Well, no. Not by himself, and not in the time allotted.
However, he does represent a popular desire to change the way our representative sovereign state takes care of business around here. We're very lucky to have things the way they are, I'm convinced. Americans enjoy the kind of social freedoms that most of the world can only pray to have. The very fact that Obama was elected by a group of hundreds of millions of people is a testament to the unparalleled collaboration of philosophies of both liberty and community that exists in our nation. I'm proud to have been a part of it... sort of (I did vote for Nader). He is as hopeful as he is optimistic. And wouldn't you know, he and everyone else on that platform this afternoon spoke the words that we needed to hear:
Together, we've thrived; and together, we will continue to do so.
From this, though, we must temper the stoked fire of the desire of progress with the tradition of respect. The problems faced by our society are those provoked by a lack of ethical behavior.
Bankers who conspired to alleviate us of our money, instead of care for it on our behalf.
A long-planned and criminal occupation of a foreign nation, cleverly disguised as a "war", against a faceless enemy, who displays immeasurable qualities of both hatred and resolve; which is justified by a romanticized desire for global peace.
The postmodern family faces its worst challenges yet-- and their failures lead to a list of obvious, pervasive, and grinding defeats.
The popular disintegration of values regarding the life and well-being of another, to the end of personal convenience.
I hate to rain on the parade, but I can't help but point out just a few of the "gathering clouds and raging storms" Obama mentioned. He definitely has his work cut out for him...
... and so do we.
19.1.09
This is why I have a camera.
Snow is like my star.
It's altogether glorious; and by that, I mean that it's pretty. Though, I do enjoy the delicate silence. The hushed excitement of it falling, dancing in front of me... as it swoops down through the streetlight, a glimmer of beauty embraces my eyes. As it joins the top of my head and melts, I'm reminded that there are moments on earth where the present is heaven.
I can never forget that it's there-- snow reminds me of its uniqueness with every step I take. It reminds me of the fact that I have a camera. And that nothing ever stays the same. It is only possible to embrace what is constantly fluid, remembering that the Maker has thoughtfully shown me his love, time and time again.
It is the only good thing about the cold, I've said. I will admit, though, that I've never stood shivering as I experience this love of wonder and joy of life. It's not a good thing, it's a beautiful thing.
... he says, and she rolls her eyes.
It's altogether glorious; and by that, I mean that it's pretty. Though, I do enjoy the delicate silence. The hushed excitement of it falling, dancing in front of me... as it swoops down through the streetlight, a glimmer of beauty embraces my eyes. As it joins the top of my head and melts, I'm reminded that there are moments on earth where the present is heaven.
I can never forget that it's there-- snow reminds me of its uniqueness with every step I take. It reminds me of the fact that I have a camera. And that nothing ever stays the same. It is only possible to embrace what is constantly fluid, remembering that the Maker has thoughtfully shown me his love, time and time again.
It is the only good thing about the cold, I've said. I will admit, though, that I've never stood shivering as I experience this love of wonder and joy of life. It's not a good thing, it's a beautiful thing.
... he says, and she rolls her eyes.
15.1.09
"Good result"
I received another letter from my kid in Bangladesh today!
Background: I sponsor a child in Bangladesh through Compassion International. His name is Sujon, and he is currently in first place for the most awesome kid in the country.
He's in second grade... learning a lot... found Jesus (favorite verse is John 14:6, by the way)... and likes drawing. He wants to be a businessman, which I knew already, but he seems like a determined kid still. His dad works for a harvesting company, and his mom is a field laborer. He's a tweener of four kids, and he's six years old. He likes green, soccer, running... the only thing we could disagree on is that his favorite food is eggs (SICK). But you know what he asked me just now?
"Please pray for me that I may make a good result."
Profound much, kid? Yeah, Sujon. I think I can do that.
"Please pray for me that I may not squeeze the life out of you when I finally come to visit."
Background: I sponsor a child in Bangladesh through Compassion International. His name is Sujon, and he is currently in first place for the most awesome kid in the country.
He's in second grade... learning a lot... found Jesus (favorite verse is John 14:6, by the way)... and likes drawing. He wants to be a businessman, which I knew already, but he seems like a determined kid still. His dad works for a harvesting company, and his mom is a field laborer. He's a tweener of four kids, and he's six years old. He likes green, soccer, running... the only thing we could disagree on is that his favorite food is eggs (SICK). But you know what he asked me just now?
"Please pray for me that I may make a good result."
Profound much, kid? Yeah, Sujon. I think I can do that.
"Please pray for me that I may not squeeze the life out of you when I finally come to visit."
6.1.09
180 degrees away from a pillar of salt
It's interesting how simply going home makes me think about the way I used to be.
There are no specific points along the way where I can say that I stopped being one person and became another. It presents a sort of envy in me whenever I listen to a moment in time in someone's life, when they've decided to change, then and there. I'm either not that decisive, or not that indiscreet.
Today, though, made me ponder what I've done. It seems that I've managed to change my own direction just to spite the fact that this train hasn't come across any switches. It's as if the track was simply picked up and moved. Is this the wrong metaphor? Were the enemy troops in my soul expecting an ambush, instead of the slow beleaguering of goodness? Possibly, I've trained and weathered my own conscience to the point where all I can see to do is the right thing. I suppose it doesn't matter what the metaphor looks like; the point is clear and I'm off-topic. How could I have done so many things wrong? Was that what it took to bring me here?
Was it just switch after switch, until the landmarks by the tracks were drawn so commonly that I didn't bother to notice them anymore?
Was it just ambush after ambush, until the blood on my hands refused to be washed away, making it as skin and nail?
Was it another poor decision after bad advice, until I was forced to find my way back home in the faceless cold, time and time again?
All I could have done, and all I want to return to change-- it would be for nothing. The switches have guided my route from home, and the blood is tied to who I've become. It seems that this ridiculous and intense chain of events has made it impossible for me to move backward. For the first time in a long time, I am genuinely happy with who and where I am.
Now, in five years, I may look back and recall all of the poor decisions I'm about to make. Or, I may look back and say,
You know, I was really on to something.
There are no specific points along the way where I can say that I stopped being one person and became another. It presents a sort of envy in me whenever I listen to a moment in time in someone's life, when they've decided to change, then and there. I'm either not that decisive, or not that indiscreet.
Today, though, made me ponder what I've done. It seems that I've managed to change my own direction just to spite the fact that this train hasn't come across any switches. It's as if the track was simply picked up and moved. Is this the wrong metaphor? Were the enemy troops in my soul expecting an ambush, instead of the slow beleaguering of goodness? Possibly, I've trained and weathered my own conscience to the point where all I can see to do is the right thing. I suppose it doesn't matter what the metaphor looks like; the point is clear and I'm off-topic. How could I have done so many things wrong? Was that what it took to bring me here?
Was it just switch after switch, until the landmarks by the tracks were drawn so commonly that I didn't bother to notice them anymore?
Was it just ambush after ambush, until the blood on my hands refused to be washed away, making it as skin and nail?
Was it another poor decision after bad advice, until I was forced to find my way back home in the faceless cold, time and time again?
All I could have done, and all I want to return to change-- it would be for nothing. The switches have guided my route from home, and the blood is tied to who I've become. It seems that this ridiculous and intense chain of events has made it impossible for me to move backward. For the first time in a long time, I am genuinely happy with who and where I am.
Now, in five years, I may look back and recall all of the poor decisions I'm about to make. Or, I may look back and say,
You know, I was really on to something.
30.12.08
BEHOLD resolution.
Like many posts, it's hard to put this in my own words. In fact, this very song was also my resolution for last year. I'll just add a few songs on the front, wrap it up with new paper, and put this baby back under the tree, then.
(links are to the lyrics. see, I made it easy!)
"The Consumer's Song" by Anti-Flag
"Typical" by Mute Math
"Revolution" by Authority Zero
"Ready and Waiting to Fall" by Mae
Every New Day by Five Iron Frenzy
When I was young,
the furthest streak of light would catch my eye;
and life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for--
and I hoped in things unseen.
I had wings and dreams, could soar.
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
watered heaven with their tears,
before words were spoken; before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you.
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
every new day again.
When I was young,
the furthest I could reach was not so high;
and I thought the world was so much smaller,
feeling I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
beyond infinity, below the face of heaven,
he stoops to create me.
Man versus himself, man versus machine, man versus the world, mankind versus me. The sun must go on, the wisdom I lack, the burdens keep piling up on my back. So hard to breathe, to take the next step-- the mountain is high, I wait in the depths. Yearning for grace and hoping for peace, dear God, increase.
Healing hands of God, have mercy on our unclean hearts once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world, burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition, without beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever yours-- only you can make every new day seem so new.
(links are to the lyrics. see, I made it easy!)
"The Consumer's Song" by Anti-Flag
"Typical" by Mute Math
"Revolution" by Authority Zero
"Ready and Waiting to Fall" by Mae
Every New Day by Five Iron Frenzy
When I was young,
the furthest streak of light would catch my eye;
and life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for--
and I hoped in things unseen.
I had wings and dreams, could soar.
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
watered heaven with their tears,
before words were spoken; before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you.
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
every new day again.
When I was young,
the furthest I could reach was not so high;
and I thought the world was so much smaller,
feeling I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
beyond infinity, below the face of heaven,
he stoops to create me.
Man versus himself, man versus machine, man versus the world, mankind versus me. The sun must go on, the wisdom I lack, the burdens keep piling up on my back. So hard to breathe, to take the next step-- the mountain is high, I wait in the depths. Yearning for grace and hoping for peace, dear God, increase.
Healing hands of God, have mercy on our unclean hearts once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world, burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition, without beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever yours-- only you can make every new day seem so new.
26.12.08
Thank God
He has been so good.
The fact that I cannot sleep tells me that I have some unresolved issues... or it may simply be the fact that I cannot sleep. I'm not worried about it.There are some things I need to say; and they're not resolutions. I'll save those for New Year, after my Spartans trounce the Georgia Bulldogs.
It's always been my policy to not itemize the little things for which I'm thankful. I don't know if this is just a preventative measure against brushfires in relationships, or if it's my INFP nature to zoom out and see the big picture behind the little things. But I'm grateful... I'm so grateful for everything that has happened this year. As David Steindl-Rast says, "When we learn to approach the world with gratefulness, everything seems to make sense." So, for the sake of thoroughness, I'll itemize as best I can:
- My old friends from home always put me in my place and force me to widen my perspective.
- My trip to the country of my own heritage was unforgettable, and demanding of a return visit.
- With new friends come new experiences... new ways to smile and learn.
- My comfort zone is sometimes cracked by a fifteen-mile lifeline... or just a well-timed hug from someone who's had their life changed.
- Core 20, you will always have a special place in my heart as my first group. You are all incredible people, and the worlds in which you live will be uniquely altered for good by your very presence in them.
- This summer was the best I've had since I can remember. From fleas to walking raves, nomcakes and assault rifles... well, it was surely not my doing.
- My family never lets me down in the fact that we always do what we want. The horizon has never been closer, and still, it is our only boundary.
- PAs, past and present, you've been the legion in which I've always taken pride marching. Even in assumed silence, your strength as a whole has carried me time and time again.
- Core 18, you more than surpassed my expectations. Already, your energy and life have shown me so much of God and myself: and for that, I can't say I'll ever be able to fully express how thankful I am. Let's make this second semester happen!
- Don, Caleb, and John... if we're discussing whether Kant was a Christian or what to put in our pancakes, or even both, we do so in the way people envy. I'm pretty lucky.
- This space is for my biochem lab group. Thanks for putting up with my baby food... I definitely would not have survived without you.
- Ryan, I don't know where you found that gorilla suit, but that was assuredly one of the best things ever.
- Carrie, I almost don't know what to say. After finally almost building up to say what I've wanted to say for months (Kerri, you need to be thanked here, too), you watched me actually run away... and it did not scare you away. You have a way of making me comfortable while keeping me in my place. The touch of your hand calms my soul, and your compassion is my envy. If english 490 does indeed kill you, I'm gonna be totally depressed, killer.
- The two great men that have gone from this earth have taught me much. Papa had a huge influence on me, and his final days have changed the way I live forever. Randy showed me how impressively a man can seek after God in times of mourning and despair. Both saints, if you ask me. And nobody has.
- This dog... the one that forced her wet nose under my hand while I was typing this... this dog is awesome. I am honestly thankful for Cassie.
Come, now, what may. The present is heaven on earth for me; my desire is simply to bring paradise to the rest of you. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year. Peace.
The fact that I cannot sleep tells me that I have some unresolved issues... or it may simply be the fact that I cannot sleep. I'm not worried about it.There are some things I need to say; and they're not resolutions. I'll save those for New Year, after my Spartans trounce the Georgia Bulldogs.
It's always been my policy to not itemize the little things for which I'm thankful. I don't know if this is just a preventative measure against brushfires in relationships, or if it's my INFP nature to zoom out and see the big picture behind the little things. But I'm grateful... I'm so grateful for everything that has happened this year. As David Steindl-Rast says, "When we learn to approach the world with gratefulness, everything seems to make sense." So, for the sake of thoroughness, I'll itemize as best I can:
- My old friends from home always put me in my place and force me to widen my perspective.
- My trip to the country of my own heritage was unforgettable, and demanding of a return visit.
- With new friends come new experiences... new ways to smile and learn.
- My comfort zone is sometimes cracked by a fifteen-mile lifeline... or just a well-timed hug from someone who's had their life changed.
- Core 20, you will always have a special place in my heart as my first group. You are all incredible people, and the worlds in which you live will be uniquely altered for good by your very presence in them.
- This summer was the best I've had since I can remember. From fleas to walking raves, nomcakes and assault rifles... well, it was surely not my doing.
- My family never lets me down in the fact that we always do what we want. The horizon has never been closer, and still, it is our only boundary.
- PAs, past and present, you've been the legion in which I've always taken pride marching. Even in assumed silence, your strength as a whole has carried me time and time again.
- Core 18, you more than surpassed my expectations. Already, your energy and life have shown me so much of God and myself: and for that, I can't say I'll ever be able to fully express how thankful I am. Let's make this second semester happen!
- Don, Caleb, and John... if we're discussing whether Kant was a Christian or what to put in our pancakes, or even both, we do so in the way people envy. I'm pretty lucky.
- This space is for my biochem lab group. Thanks for putting up with my baby food... I definitely would not have survived without you.
- Ryan, I don't know where you found that gorilla suit, but that was assuredly one of the best things ever.
- Carrie, I almost don't know what to say. After finally almost building up to say what I've wanted to say for months (Kerri, you need to be thanked here, too), you watched me actually run away... and it did not scare you away. You have a way of making me comfortable while keeping me in my place. The touch of your hand calms my soul, and your compassion is my envy. If english 490 does indeed kill you, I'm gonna be totally depressed, killer.
- The two great men that have gone from this earth have taught me much. Papa had a huge influence on me, and his final days have changed the way I live forever. Randy showed me how impressively a man can seek after God in times of mourning and despair. Both saints, if you ask me. And nobody has.
- This dog... the one that forced her wet nose under my hand while I was typing this... this dog is awesome. I am honestly thankful for Cassie.
Come, now, what may. The present is heaven on earth for me; my desire is simply to bring paradise to the rest of you. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year. Peace.
12.12.08
The Moon and the Star
The moon seems to be the lord of the sky at night. It certainly was tonight, as the star pointed out. She could hardly contain her excitement; and it was contagious. I was driving while her joy was gushing under my tires, and it was suddenly more difficult to stay on the road while sharing this moment. But later that night, when the star I had seen calmly faded into the rest of the sky, it was the shift of focus that had caught my attention.
The moon was the lord of the sky. I can respect that. The star had no trouble taking the attention off herself to point to something even better. "Is it not beautiful," she asked, "enough to wait, and ponder, and adore?" I felt no disappointment, no fear, no animosity. I felt only calmness. For the star had shown me that there was more to her light... and shown me the lord of the night sky. The microscope becomes a telescope after only widening the field of view and looking deeper into nature-- that is how I came to know the beauty and lordship of the moon.
And that moon is beautiful. The star is, indeed, dazzling and breath-taking as well, but it is the moon that makes completion. When I see it again, I will be sure to remember. I gave my word.
The moon was the lord of the sky. I can respect that. The star had no trouble taking the attention off herself to point to something even better. "Is it not beautiful," she asked, "enough to wait, and ponder, and adore?" I felt no disappointment, no fear, no animosity. I felt only calmness. For the star had shown me that there was more to her light... and shown me the lord of the night sky. The microscope becomes a telescope after only widening the field of view and looking deeper into nature-- that is how I came to know the beauty and lordship of the moon.
And that moon is beautiful. The star is, indeed, dazzling and breath-taking as well, but it is the moon that makes completion. When I see it again, I will be sure to remember. I gave my word.
9.12.08
When I try to say it
... only music comes out. Son of a gun.
1) "Whoo! Alright-Yeah... Uh Huh" > The Rapture
I used to think life's a bitter pill, but it's a grand ol' time
2) "Invincible" > OK Go
They won't be prepared for the thousand-Fahrenheit-hot metal lights behind your eyes
3) "Noticed" > Mute Math
When you look my way, something's pounding away; and I wonder if I ever felt this before
4) "Miracle" > Paramore
I've gone for too long living like I'm not alive-- so I'm gonna start over tonight
5) "Every New Day" > Five Iron Frenzy
Dear Father, I need you: your strength, my heart to mend. I want to fly higher every new day again!
1) "Whoo! Alright-Yeah... Uh Huh" > The Rapture
I used to think life's a bitter pill, but it's a grand ol' time
2) "Invincible" > OK Go
They won't be prepared for the thousand-Fahrenheit-hot metal lights behind your eyes
3) "Noticed" > Mute Math
When you look my way, something's pounding away; and I wonder if I ever felt this before
4) "Miracle" > Paramore
I've gone for too long living like I'm not alive-- so I'm gonna start over tonight
5) "Every New Day" > Five Iron Frenzy
Dear Father, I need you: your strength, my heart to mend. I want to fly higher every new day again!
7.12.08
A window, a star, and a ladder
It was more than hot in my room. I was sweating like mad, as I had been on and off for months. Maybe a piece of me hoped that winter would bring some relief, but it didn't. As I've been told, the snow only means it's warm. But, this was after I decided that I needed to open the window.
The window was big. It was heavy. It did a pretty good job of keeping things out of my room, and keeping things in. Like a thermos. But I was dying... I mean, I had to shut the window to warm the room up. I remember when I was freezing in there. Not good times, awful times-- and everyone who saw me in that room knew it. So, I closed the window. It was the best thing to do, for me. Now, what was I thinking now? Open it? Crazy. No way.
I told people about wanting to open the window. About the heat. I think I just needed to hear other people say that I needed to. After all, I couldn't see myself sweating... and I don't think anyone else did, either. One of my friends seemed as if they were to push me through the thick glass pane if I didn't open it myself. However, my friend did seem to be comforted by the fact that I was going to open the window, because the heat was obvious. Rats.
So, I opened it. And... I felt a little cooler. The trouble presented itself immediately: what should I do with just an open window? I knew what I wanted. But how? I went back to my desk. For hours, I tried to think of what I had missed. I opened it, didn't I?
What could I have missed?
I walked to the window, and I looked out. Strange, I thought-- I never noticed that star there. I mean to say, I never saw it. I knew it was there, because that's only reason why the room was so hot. Why, out of all the stars, then?
Have you ever looked at a night sky? I mean, really looked at it? Depending on where you're walking, there's a lot or not so many of these incredibly beautiful stars. But I always find myself searching for one that's particularly bright... one that seems to greet my eyes with its own individual light. And this is how I forget about the other stars.
When I went back to my window that night, I looked at my star. I stared at her. She stared back. She motioned to the ladder in the corner.
I picked up the ladder, set it in the window, and climbed up to her. When she'd finished laughing about how awkward I'd been climbing up, we noticed it was still snowing, and that it just meant that it was warm outside.
The window was big. It was heavy. It did a pretty good job of keeping things out of my room, and keeping things in. Like a thermos. But I was dying... I mean, I had to shut the window to warm the room up. I remember when I was freezing in there. Not good times, awful times-- and everyone who saw me in that room knew it. So, I closed the window. It was the best thing to do, for me. Now, what was I thinking now? Open it? Crazy. No way.
I told people about wanting to open the window. About the heat. I think I just needed to hear other people say that I needed to. After all, I couldn't see myself sweating... and I don't think anyone else did, either. One of my friends seemed as if they were to push me through the thick glass pane if I didn't open it myself. However, my friend did seem to be comforted by the fact that I was going to open the window, because the heat was obvious. Rats.
So, I opened it. And... I felt a little cooler. The trouble presented itself immediately: what should I do with just an open window? I knew what I wanted. But how? I went back to my desk. For hours, I tried to think of what I had missed. I opened it, didn't I?
What could I have missed?
I walked to the window, and I looked out. Strange, I thought-- I never noticed that star there. I mean to say, I never saw it. I knew it was there, because that's only reason why the room was so hot. Why, out of all the stars, then?
Have you ever looked at a night sky? I mean, really looked at it? Depending on where you're walking, there's a lot or not so many of these incredibly beautiful stars. But I always find myself searching for one that's particularly bright... one that seems to greet my eyes with its own individual light. And this is how I forget about the other stars.
When I went back to my window that night, I looked at my star. I stared at her. She stared back. She motioned to the ladder in the corner.
I picked up the ladder, set it in the window, and climbed up to her. When she'd finished laughing about how awkward I'd been climbing up, we noticed it was still snowing, and that it just meant that it was warm outside.
4.12.08
Christmas
Nothing makes me both more joyful and more cynical than the holiday celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ.
This year, people have lost lives in the name of commercialism.
Instead of a tragedy of extreme consumerism, it was an annoying inconvenience.
Some who have lost their sources of resources this year (something I can be even more cynical about) worry and struggle over the fact that they may not be able to have a "Merry Christmas" because of it.
Question. What happened to our awareness?
I don't mean to offer the truth of Christmas as a vaccination against the hard times that this economy will undoubtedly create.
I just want to question the truth of the new "Merry Christmas."
The appalling and apparent truth of the matter is that this has all gone too far!
But, as the late Irish philosopher George Berkeley reminds us:
"Truth is the cry of all, but the game of few."
What can redeem something so... irredeemably terrible?
I'm going to try to sidestep the cliché Jesus pigeonhole here, because I want to get the big picture.
So, I suppose the first question to ask is pretty simple: why did this happen?
Jesus is the Word of God, which we already had, right?
It really only means one thing.
This was an intervention.
We got this whole deal so mixed up that God Himself needed to step in and show us how to live... again.
He meant for everything to be fixed.
But He didn't mean to fix it Himself-- that's not how an intervention works.
No, I'm pretty sure that God meant to change the world through humanity.
If He didn't, then why bother with this whole... you know... "becoming human" business?
Peter became like Christ, as well as the rest of them (except for one, of course).
I cannot speak out against the deep gash of commercialism in the human body without revealing the ailments of my own soul.
Like an addict, like a criminal; He shows us that we can change with His help.
What was broken has been made like new with our willingness; but our own power was inadequate.
The gift of grace.
The power of mercy.
The joy of manifested love-- which was crying, sleeping, feeding, blinking, breathing, and laughing in a soft, glorified scarf one night-- I celebrate it.
Because I don't understand.
Still.
But I know for a fact that I can latch onto it with all the strength I have!
What am I, perfect?
I'm not perfect and it will still save me.
He will save me.
Now, that's what I call redemption.
This year, people have lost lives in the name of commercialism.
Instead of a tragedy of extreme consumerism, it was an annoying inconvenience.
Some who have lost their sources of resources this year (something I can be even more cynical about) worry and struggle over the fact that they may not be able to have a "Merry Christmas" because of it.
Question. What happened to our awareness?
I don't mean to offer the truth of Christmas as a vaccination against the hard times that this economy will undoubtedly create.
I just want to question the truth of the new "Merry Christmas."
The appalling and apparent truth of the matter is that this has all gone too far!
But, as the late Irish philosopher George Berkeley reminds us:
"Truth is the cry of all, but the game of few."
What can redeem something so... irredeemably terrible?
I'm going to try to sidestep the cliché Jesus pigeonhole here, because I want to get the big picture.
So, I suppose the first question to ask is pretty simple: why did this happen?
Jesus is the Word of God, which we already had, right?
It really only means one thing.
This was an intervention.
We got this whole deal so mixed up that God Himself needed to step in and show us how to live... again.
He meant for everything to be fixed.
But He didn't mean to fix it Himself-- that's not how an intervention works.
No, I'm pretty sure that God meant to change the world through humanity.
If He didn't, then why bother with this whole... you know... "becoming human" business?
Peter became like Christ, as well as the rest of them (except for one, of course).
I cannot speak out against the deep gash of commercialism in the human body without revealing the ailments of my own soul.
Like an addict, like a criminal; He shows us that we can change with His help.
What was broken has been made like new with our willingness; but our own power was inadequate.
The gift of grace.
The power of mercy.
The joy of manifested love-- which was crying, sleeping, feeding, blinking, breathing, and laughing in a soft, glorified scarf one night-- I celebrate it.
Because I don't understand.
Still.
But I know for a fact that I can latch onto it with all the strength I have!
What am I, perfect?
I'm not perfect and it will still save me.
He will save me.
Now, that's what I call redemption.
2.12.08
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