And now that we’re here, So far away..
All the struggle we thought was in vain
And all the mistakes One life can take;
They all finally start to go away.
And now that we’re here its so far away
And I feel like I can face the day
I can forgive, and I’m not ashamed to be the person that I am today
______________________________________________________________
I’m still waiting for
You to be the one I’m waiting for
Something tells me that this is going to make sense
Something tells me it’s going to take patience
Something tells me that this will all work out in the end
__________________________________________________
I was the last to know
I’ll be the first to say
That now I’m okay
And for the first time
I’ve opened up my eyes
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Love (Again)
I've said to some people that I don't want to feel for anyone the way I have in the past year. Though I wasn't totally right, I wasn't far off either. The emotional love I had for specific people was the basis for our desire for more in the future.
I wanted to marry because I loved her. Not that strange of a thought to most people, and conventional standards. But that in and of itself is why that love failed. The basis for us was how we felt, on our emotions. Emotions which are extraordinarily fickle; they change minute to minute, and day to day based on everything from how wee we have slept, to how the day is going. When we were happy, we love more, when we are hurt we wouldn't want to love each other.
Love, the way we had it, the way poets and songwriters describe it, is a drug. That's not a good thing. It intoxicates, and addicts. It promotes a wonderful high, so good that eventually the purpose of the connection for both parities is merely to maintain that high. I want to avoid this love.
This love can be true and deep. It can be the basis for a long and happy life together, but it alone is not enough. No matter what the songs say, love the way people want it is not enough. That kind of love is self-serving; "as long as it feels good and doesn't hurt me I will hold onto it". It has to fulfill a need, and even if the other person’s needs are met in the same way, the concept is inherently selfish. Because, on its own, it only last as long as there is no hurt. But because we are talking about an emotion, there is always a risk of being hurt. It is more tantamount to loving the feeling of being in love.
This enrapturing love must be coupled with "Choice Love". The kind of love that is entirely about the other person. The kind of love that says, "Even when this person hurts me, I will still love them. Even when I wake up in the morning and hate them, I will still love them. I will love them because I choose to."
This is not only represented by love between people, man and woman, but between people and God.
God does not care how we feel in worship. His presence does not rely, influence, or hinge on how we feel. Praise should not be our attempt to find a high emotional feeling, that we can call the "spirit". It is for HIS glory not for our feelings.
God's presence is not defined by our emotional experiences. Those who have "met God" in an overwhelming flood of "Spiritual" emotion, may have truly interacted with the almighty, and praise God that they have, praise him for HIS presence that HE gave. But when, after those experiences, they judge all moments of prayer, worship, and spiritual activity by the standard of the emotional high, then they are bowing to the idol of emotion, rather than worshiping God. When God's presence is defined or identified by the emotions and highs felt by us, then we are no longer seeking and worshiping HIM. Our emotions make a weak and pathetic idol that we put in a disastrous place of power.
God loves us, whether we feel it or not. How often do we equate God’s love to how things are going in our lives. How selfish to think that somehow we can earn (or lessen) Gods favor. God's love for us and blessings on us are not dependent on us. God does not love us more when everything is easy, when things feel good, when there is an emotional high, than he does when things are hard, painful, and low. God, and His love, is the same, yesterday, today, and forever. His love never fails. It's constant. The change we feel is simply a fickle feeling and emotion.
Love, for God and people, should start in the mind. For the heart, where we feel emotional love, is deceitfully wicked. Instead, love starts as a choice. The high, emotional feeling that we identify as love is a by-product of a life spent with a person you choose to love, and a God who loves you by His endless grace. Other kinds of love are emotional, and by definition, not constant. Can we define something that must be constant by something that cannot be? Instead, because of the love and favor we have, those emotions will come, not the other way around. They can happen, and are right to, but must be guided by a committed choice to love.
Love by man is selfish. Beware this love.
I wanted to marry because I loved her. Not that strange of a thought to most people, and conventional standards. But that in and of itself is why that love failed. The basis for us was how we felt, on our emotions. Emotions which are extraordinarily fickle; they change minute to minute, and day to day based on everything from how wee we have slept, to how the day is going. When we were happy, we love more, when we are hurt we wouldn't want to love each other.
Love, the way we had it, the way poets and songwriters describe it, is a drug. That's not a good thing. It intoxicates, and addicts. It promotes a wonderful high, so good that eventually the purpose of the connection for both parities is merely to maintain that high. I want to avoid this love.
This love can be true and deep. It can be the basis for a long and happy life together, but it alone is not enough. No matter what the songs say, love the way people want it is not enough. That kind of love is self-serving; "as long as it feels good and doesn't hurt me I will hold onto it". It has to fulfill a need, and even if the other person’s needs are met in the same way, the concept is inherently selfish. Because, on its own, it only last as long as there is no hurt. But because we are talking about an emotion, there is always a risk of being hurt. It is more tantamount to loving the feeling of being in love.
This enrapturing love must be coupled with "Choice Love". The kind of love that is entirely about the other person. The kind of love that says, "Even when this person hurts me, I will still love them. Even when I wake up in the morning and hate them, I will still love them. I will love them because I choose to."
This is not only represented by love between people, man and woman, but between people and God.
God does not care how we feel in worship. His presence does not rely, influence, or hinge on how we feel. Praise should not be our attempt to find a high emotional feeling, that we can call the "spirit". It is for HIS glory not for our feelings.
God's presence is not defined by our emotional experiences. Those who have "met God" in an overwhelming flood of "Spiritual" emotion, may have truly interacted with the almighty, and praise God that they have, praise him for HIS presence that HE gave. But when, after those experiences, they judge all moments of prayer, worship, and spiritual activity by the standard of the emotional high, then they are bowing to the idol of emotion, rather than worshiping God. When God's presence is defined or identified by the emotions and highs felt by us, then we are no longer seeking and worshiping HIM. Our emotions make a weak and pathetic idol that we put in a disastrous place of power.
God loves us, whether we feel it or not. How often do we equate God’s love to how things are going in our lives. How selfish to think that somehow we can earn (or lessen) Gods favor. God's love for us and blessings on us are not dependent on us. God does not love us more when everything is easy, when things feel good, when there is an emotional high, than he does when things are hard, painful, and low. God, and His love, is the same, yesterday, today, and forever. His love never fails. It's constant. The change we feel is simply a fickle feeling and emotion.
Love, for God and people, should start in the mind. For the heart, where we feel emotional love, is deceitfully wicked. Instead, love starts as a choice. The high, emotional feeling that we identify as love is a by-product of a life spent with a person you choose to love, and a God who loves you by His endless grace. Other kinds of love are emotional, and by definition, not constant. Can we define something that must be constant by something that cannot be? Instead, because of the love and favor we have, those emotions will come, not the other way around. They can happen, and are right to, but must be guided by a committed choice to love.
Love by man is selfish. Beware this love.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Fulfillment
Do hard things. Life isn't about You. Do some things you don't like, that wont help you or benefit you. Fulfillment doesn't come from having what you want dropped in your lap. Work, serve, live. Do.
Monday, November 29, 2010
So i have wanted to start one of those "Ten days" things that everyone (gracie, caroline, and alex) are doing
But every time i get the idea i realize I’m not going to be able to do ten days strait. I was at School, then Tyler’s house, then home, and I’ll be in DC before the next ten days are up. I dont have ten days in a row to do this. Hopefully when i get back from TN in two weeks. REMIND ME!!!
Friday, November 26, 2010
World
Segment I: Veritas
I’ve returned to this world permeated with memories of things that hurt me. There is no safe place for me, not in this world, not in the world I have just come from. School and here are two very different worlds. When I left here four months ago I was running from pain. For a time I found freedom in the world of school. I found some peace, for a time.
But now I’m back here again. Not a person to mince words am I; I hate it. Hate feeling here. Not being here, because I do love my parents. There is no place on earth I really hate being, rather it is the feeling that comes with each place that I love or hate. The feeling of this place, once called home, is now torturous.
Images, memories, faces, voices of people haunt me constantly. I love them. I love her. I don’t know what I did, only that I did something. I want so badly to have her back, to go back to the life I had a year ago with them. I would do anything, explain any wrong, change any action past or future, and undo any habit. I know that, were I given the chance, I could explain whatever it was that turned her heart against me. I know I did wrong, but so have others. I wish I could fix the hurt I cause her. But I will never get that chance.
And, what hideous truth that is for me to admit; in the very feelings I express for those in my past, I know I am hurting those in my present who I do care about. Friends, a new little sister, a new life I’ve found, yet somewhere deep inside me I would long for that all to be washed away so I could go back. How traitorous and disloyal I am.
School has been my escape, but more so it has become a place in which I have forge a new identity. Everything I was has been torn away and I am still searching to toll the holes that remain. The first months I was away gave me solace, a place to find rest from the pain of losing her. But even as the days went by that solace faded, not in the return of the pain of loss, but with the advent of a new kind of pain. It became an indescribable nightmare. Not indescribable in terms of awfulness, it has been no better or worse than any other hard time in my life; merely it was indescribable as it was simply pain for pains sake. No reason behind it, not logic. Just hurt. Hurt that would not stop. Each time a victory was won, the pain would return.
Why so downcast, oh my soul? Hope in God. As much as it was for me to try, all attempts at hope failed. Again, there was no reason. Perhaps the pain of losing Rieola was simply coming back, manifesting itself in new and unforeseen ways. Whatever the reason, my place of solitude was gone.
Now I’m back here, where I started. I’m not the same person, how could I be. From an onlookers perspective I’m better in every visible way. Stronger, smarter, harder in the right places, and softer in others. But it’s only been days since I've returned, and I am already being overwhelmed. Not an hour goes by where I don’t miss her. I hate being here, being reminded of how I failed and hurt others and was hurt by them. This cannot be my home.
The faces in my mind are changing once again. Each time it gets harder and more painful to see them changed. I have an image of my wife, a beautiful woman, who, once again, has no face. A little sister whose name I know but whose face I cannot see anymore. My own face, the image I have of myself, so long defined by my imaginary measures of control, changes without changing at all. Faces of past loves, friends, and enemies, all now jeering at me through broken memories.
Constantly overwhelmed, I continually fall back into the daydreams of my mind, where I am something else, something stronger. TO a world, of my own creation, where all the dangers and harms that would come to others I could bear on myself. Where I could save those I love, and they could see me as in the form I wish I could be. Everything under my control. But this world is fake. Wrong. I go there when I feel empty, lost, alone, and most importantly when this world is out of my control. I must accept that the world I want is not real. The world of reality is not under my control.
This world is not my home.
Segment II: Antirihen
Wind and waves crashed around him as he stood on a high rock, a solitary tower of stone rising out of the sea. The storm that raged around him pulled at him harshly, but not causing him to sway. He did not even twitch as the rain pelted him at unnatural speeds. Beneath the wings wrapped tightly around his person he could barely feel the elements assaulting him.
Eyes closed, head bowed, his long strands of white and black hair dancing in the wind, and he searched his mind for an answer to a question he couldn’t find words to ask. He had chosen to come here. This place where nature itself seemed in chaos was somehow peaceful. Any sailor would be brought to his knees before the bower of this storm, so unbelievable was its intensity. Perhaps it was indeed not to believed.
Was this storm reality? It was so confusing at times to him. What was real? There seemed to be so many worlds, so many places for him to find himself. So many people who could be real or not real, living or mere constructs of his desperate mind.
He loved someone. But who? Names and faces flashed through his mind. Emiri, Rieola, Raquel, Meaghan, Hanna, and other faces he could not name. Each of the names came with an accompanying story. Some story of pain and loss, many involving death. Sometimes it was she who died, sometimes he.
There was a sister, though she too had many faces. Alyssa was the most common name, though even that varied. She had been younger, older, his twin. In one universe she was adopted, in another related by blood, and in yet another they were related only out of desire to stay close to one another. Was she dead? He couldn’t remember. Some of the time she was.
Even he was different from place to place, from world to world. Here he was simply stronger, harder, and gifted with wings. Other forms he knew had powers, gifts of magic and alchemy. Dark variations existed, with vampiric teeth, horns, and glowing red eyes. In other forms he was an angel, with white wings. Bladed wings, metal wings, and even skeletal wings had he from one from to the next. Which was he really? Perhaps none of them at all.
Yet, as many and different were these worlds that he saw, none was perfect. None were happy. There was always war, whether personal or external. He fought in every form, for there was always an enemy. The darkness was always strong, and regardless of which reality he saw, there was never enough power in him to overcome. He fought on anyways. He accepted the pain.
In one world his power had caused the death of his little sister. Rather than have anyone feel the pain of her loss, he used all of his power to alter that reality, so that only he would have to remember her, and all the sorrow and guilt over her death he alone would bear. How weak. How selfish.
Perhaps that was the point. That explained the current reality, the storm around him. Why he found peace in the chaos around him. As the thought grew, he unfolded his wings and opened his eyes. Conflict and pain were a constant. Struggle was what he wanted, in a roundabout way. He chose the storm because if offered him something to fight against. All of his worlds were drowned in conflict because conflict gave him something to work and fight against. It gave him a purpose, and the strength to aim for that purpose. Where all the forces around him to be reduced to nothing, he would not become unstoppable; he would become pointless.
So as the rain came down, he smiled. He would not overcome. He was not supposed to, he had merely been called to fight. Whatever reality, whatever world would come, he would fight on, because the struggle was a part of who he was, no matter which version of himself he became. No matter which world…
This world is not my home.
I’ve returned to this world permeated with memories of things that hurt me. There is no safe place for me, not in this world, not in the world I have just come from. School and here are two very different worlds. When I left here four months ago I was running from pain. For a time I found freedom in the world of school. I found some peace, for a time.
But now I’m back here again. Not a person to mince words am I; I hate it. Hate feeling here. Not being here, because I do love my parents. There is no place on earth I really hate being, rather it is the feeling that comes with each place that I love or hate. The feeling of this place, once called home, is now torturous.
Images, memories, faces, voices of people haunt me constantly. I love them. I love her. I don’t know what I did, only that I did something. I want so badly to have her back, to go back to the life I had a year ago with them. I would do anything, explain any wrong, change any action past or future, and undo any habit. I know that, were I given the chance, I could explain whatever it was that turned her heart against me. I know I did wrong, but so have others. I wish I could fix the hurt I cause her. But I will never get that chance.
And, what hideous truth that is for me to admit; in the very feelings I express for those in my past, I know I am hurting those in my present who I do care about. Friends, a new little sister, a new life I’ve found, yet somewhere deep inside me I would long for that all to be washed away so I could go back. How traitorous and disloyal I am.
School has been my escape, but more so it has become a place in which I have forge a new identity. Everything I was has been torn away and I am still searching to toll the holes that remain. The first months I was away gave me solace, a place to find rest from the pain of losing her. But even as the days went by that solace faded, not in the return of the pain of loss, but with the advent of a new kind of pain. It became an indescribable nightmare. Not indescribable in terms of awfulness, it has been no better or worse than any other hard time in my life; merely it was indescribable as it was simply pain for pains sake. No reason behind it, not logic. Just hurt. Hurt that would not stop. Each time a victory was won, the pain would return.
Why so downcast, oh my soul? Hope in God. As much as it was for me to try, all attempts at hope failed. Again, there was no reason. Perhaps the pain of losing Rieola was simply coming back, manifesting itself in new and unforeseen ways. Whatever the reason, my place of solitude was gone.
Now I’m back here, where I started. I’m not the same person, how could I be. From an onlookers perspective I’m better in every visible way. Stronger, smarter, harder in the right places, and softer in others. But it’s only been days since I've returned, and I am already being overwhelmed. Not an hour goes by where I don’t miss her. I hate being here, being reminded of how I failed and hurt others and was hurt by them. This cannot be my home.
The faces in my mind are changing once again. Each time it gets harder and more painful to see them changed. I have an image of my wife, a beautiful woman, who, once again, has no face. A little sister whose name I know but whose face I cannot see anymore. My own face, the image I have of myself, so long defined by my imaginary measures of control, changes without changing at all. Faces of past loves, friends, and enemies, all now jeering at me through broken memories.
Constantly overwhelmed, I continually fall back into the daydreams of my mind, where I am something else, something stronger. TO a world, of my own creation, where all the dangers and harms that would come to others I could bear on myself. Where I could save those I love, and they could see me as in the form I wish I could be. Everything under my control. But this world is fake. Wrong. I go there when I feel empty, lost, alone, and most importantly when this world is out of my control. I must accept that the world I want is not real. The world of reality is not under my control.
This world is not my home.
Segment II: Antirihen
Wind and waves crashed around him as he stood on a high rock, a solitary tower of stone rising out of the sea. The storm that raged around him pulled at him harshly, but not causing him to sway. He did not even twitch as the rain pelted him at unnatural speeds. Beneath the wings wrapped tightly around his person he could barely feel the elements assaulting him.
Eyes closed, head bowed, his long strands of white and black hair dancing in the wind, and he searched his mind for an answer to a question he couldn’t find words to ask. He had chosen to come here. This place where nature itself seemed in chaos was somehow peaceful. Any sailor would be brought to his knees before the bower of this storm, so unbelievable was its intensity. Perhaps it was indeed not to believed.
Was this storm reality? It was so confusing at times to him. What was real? There seemed to be so many worlds, so many places for him to find himself. So many people who could be real or not real, living or mere constructs of his desperate mind.
He loved someone. But who? Names and faces flashed through his mind. Emiri, Rieola, Raquel, Meaghan, Hanna, and other faces he could not name. Each of the names came with an accompanying story. Some story of pain and loss, many involving death. Sometimes it was she who died, sometimes he.
There was a sister, though she too had many faces. Alyssa was the most common name, though even that varied. She had been younger, older, his twin. In one universe she was adopted, in another related by blood, and in yet another they were related only out of desire to stay close to one another. Was she dead? He couldn’t remember. Some of the time she was.
Even he was different from place to place, from world to world. Here he was simply stronger, harder, and gifted with wings. Other forms he knew had powers, gifts of magic and alchemy. Dark variations existed, with vampiric teeth, horns, and glowing red eyes. In other forms he was an angel, with white wings. Bladed wings, metal wings, and even skeletal wings had he from one from to the next. Which was he really? Perhaps none of them at all.
Yet, as many and different were these worlds that he saw, none was perfect. None were happy. There was always war, whether personal or external. He fought in every form, for there was always an enemy. The darkness was always strong, and regardless of which reality he saw, there was never enough power in him to overcome. He fought on anyways. He accepted the pain.
In one world his power had caused the death of his little sister. Rather than have anyone feel the pain of her loss, he used all of his power to alter that reality, so that only he would have to remember her, and all the sorrow and guilt over her death he alone would bear. How weak. How selfish.
Perhaps that was the point. That explained the current reality, the storm around him. Why he found peace in the chaos around him. As the thought grew, he unfolded his wings and opened his eyes. Conflict and pain were a constant. Struggle was what he wanted, in a roundabout way. He chose the storm because if offered him something to fight against. All of his worlds were drowned in conflict because conflict gave him something to work and fight against. It gave him a purpose, and the strength to aim for that purpose. Where all the forces around him to be reduced to nothing, he would not become unstoppable; he would become pointless.
So as the rain came down, he smiled. He would not overcome. He was not supposed to, he had merely been called to fight. Whatever reality, whatever world would come, he would fight on, because the struggle was a part of who he was, no matter which version of himself he became. No matter which world…
This world is not my home.
Monday, November 8, 2010
So Yeah.... I Just realized.
God is taking me, and my class to Israel in March. Its pretty awesome. Like, the literal definition of the word awesome really applies here.
http://www.verityinstitute.org/israel
yeah...
He is awesome
http://www.verityinstitute.org/israel
yeah...
He is awesome
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Sometimes scripture makes so much sense
The first step towards the beauty of a full relationship with Christ is understanding that i need help! I do. Me. No one else, and least that i can speak for. When something bothers me about someone else, its not them who needs who needs help, its me.
I cant save myself; even simple success is a blessing I don’t earn. I’m so broken, and a vase cant fix itself. So, yes, I don’t just have a visual impairment with the log in my eye, I’m blind entirely. I can’t help anyone else see Christ without Christ first un-blinding me.
I cant save myself; even simple success is a blessing I don’t earn. I’m so broken, and a vase cant fix itself. So, yes, I don’t just have a visual impairment with the log in my eye, I’m blind entirely. I can’t help anyone else see Christ without Christ first un-blinding me.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Love on a Sunday
Love on a Sunday
This week, especially yesterday, has brought some things about my friendship/relationship patterns into a new perspective. This is not in reference to any specific friendship, present or past, but rather about them all. I will mention a few present and past friendships for examples and clarification. This is habit and practice for me, and I could well be wrong in my actions and conclusions. This is merely a statement of explanation for my habits, not an excuse or evasion of any rules or customs of manner. I welcome the thoughts and advice of those, my wiser counterparts.
I have always wanted a little sister. I didn’t always understand this desire, at least not till I was older. I didn’t desire a romantic relationship, just one of care, love, protection, and respect. I guess the reason I wanted a younger sister specifically was for the playfulness and joyful closeness that I felt would come with a younger that would be considered flirting with other girls, and would be awkward to have with guys. But alas, this was never something God saw fit to give. Even without the provision of a biological or legally adopted sister, however, the concept shapes how I approach girls I become close to.
Don’t get my wrong, I have an older sister, and love her and have been close to her most of my life, but she has never been really mine to take care of, as she, the older, sees me as the twerp kid. This relationship has been very influential in forming who I am. But I have an older sister. The role is filled. I have no need of another, because Abby fit that space in my heart perfectly
I have never had a hard time making friends. At the same time I have never been able to force myself to get to know someone. Every real friendship I have had has not been the result of any desire or intent or even any real effort on my part. They form, as God forms them, blessings to me that I neither deserve nor cultivate, nor really appreciate to the extent I should. Put simply, my good friendships have always been the ones I never sought after.
My personality, however, combined with my inner desire for a sister, has had affects on my friendships. When I get close to a girl, in my mind and heart, I often begin to view her as that sister. Not at all a bad place for a girl in my heart. With some variance, I treat her as I feel I would like to treat a biological sister, though perhaps with less familiarity. The variance occurs based on personality; some girls show, by action and suggestion, that they prefer to be treated differently, and so in order to respect how they were made, I (usually subconsciously) choose to treat them differently, though still as a sister.
This establishment of “sister” status has seen both unintentional and acknowledged applications. With my old friend Rosie, we became close, in spite of her actively disliking the idea of being considered a sister by name. Laura and Anna, on the other hand, broached the idea of connecting as surrogate siblings before I did. Both were strong friendships, though one was classified as “best friends”, and the other as “siblings”. The result, after the variance for the different personalities, was three close friendships, each with a different connection, but all defined by the situation.
Forthwith are the problems of this sort of system. First, the proximity of the friendship is close, but limited by the desire to refrain from romantic connection or pairing off. That being said, each friendship is of equal status. Should God ever direct a deeper relationship, leading to marriage, then a change of status is required for the remaining friendships. Also, this could cause potential problems with jealousy, mixed signals, and mixed messages. This is a situation I experienced firsthand over the summer.
Second, though the establishment of young women as “sisters” prevents attachments that are more than friendship, it does not do so with immaculate consistency. Crushes still can form before the connection as siblings has taken root. And even if it has been established as a brother-sister relationship, it does not preclude the possibility of either party wanting it to become something more, and thus changing the status quo.
Every good friendship I’ve been given, as I said before, has been not of my own work, nor have I ever been able to make a good friendship out of effort. They just happen. Thinking back to a crush, there was a girl I wanted to get to know, but was unable to due to her personality and the circumstances surrounding our friendship. It was a bridge I could not get over. The friendship failed because I tired to make it more than it would have been naturally.
But that itself is the key. Every bad or wrong relationship I have had has been one in which I tired to make the friendship into something I wanted, or tired to manipulate it to get something I wanted. On the other hand, the best friendships I have had were free of my involvement. They weren’t formed by any feelings or desires of my own making.
Both in friendship, but more so in the relationship that will lead to marriage, the same principle will apply. Not something I push for or work for based on any desire, attraction, or emotion, but instead something that develops free of my intervention. So often people form relationships because they like each other. Their desire for the relationship or for each other mutates the natural course that the friendship was meant to take. God is the real author of marriage-love, and only he can stir it up properly. We humans need not intervene.
Of course, for me the one exception that makes this rule a problem is Laura. I never tired to make us anything. To my knowledge and understanding, it just happened, not based on intent or desire almost until the end. Not quite sure how that factors in… Shall I end this blog off with a question?
This week, especially yesterday, has brought some things about my friendship/relationship patterns into a new perspective. This is not in reference to any specific friendship, present or past, but rather about them all. I will mention a few present and past friendships for examples and clarification. This is habit and practice for me, and I could well be wrong in my actions and conclusions. This is merely a statement of explanation for my habits, not an excuse or evasion of any rules or customs of manner. I welcome the thoughts and advice of those, my wiser counterparts.
I have always wanted a little sister. I didn’t always understand this desire, at least not till I was older. I didn’t desire a romantic relationship, just one of care, love, protection, and respect. I guess the reason I wanted a younger sister specifically was for the playfulness and joyful closeness that I felt would come with a younger that would be considered flirting with other girls, and would be awkward to have with guys. But alas, this was never something God saw fit to give. Even without the provision of a biological or legally adopted sister, however, the concept shapes how I approach girls I become close to.
Don’t get my wrong, I have an older sister, and love her and have been close to her most of my life, but she has never been really mine to take care of, as she, the older, sees me as the twerp kid. This relationship has been very influential in forming who I am. But I have an older sister. The role is filled. I have no need of another, because Abby fit that space in my heart perfectly
I have never had a hard time making friends. At the same time I have never been able to force myself to get to know someone. Every real friendship I have had has not been the result of any desire or intent or even any real effort on my part. They form, as God forms them, blessings to me that I neither deserve nor cultivate, nor really appreciate to the extent I should. Put simply, my good friendships have always been the ones I never sought after.
My personality, however, combined with my inner desire for a sister, has had affects on my friendships. When I get close to a girl, in my mind and heart, I often begin to view her as that sister. Not at all a bad place for a girl in my heart. With some variance, I treat her as I feel I would like to treat a biological sister, though perhaps with less familiarity. The variance occurs based on personality; some girls show, by action and suggestion, that they prefer to be treated differently, and so in order to respect how they were made, I (usually subconsciously) choose to treat them differently, though still as a sister.
This establishment of “sister” status has seen both unintentional and acknowledged applications. With my old friend Rosie, we became close, in spite of her actively disliking the idea of being considered a sister by name. Laura and Anna, on the other hand, broached the idea of connecting as surrogate siblings before I did. Both were strong friendships, though one was classified as “best friends”, and the other as “siblings”. The result, after the variance for the different personalities, was three close friendships, each with a different connection, but all defined by the situation.
Forthwith are the problems of this sort of system. First, the proximity of the friendship is close, but limited by the desire to refrain from romantic connection or pairing off. That being said, each friendship is of equal status. Should God ever direct a deeper relationship, leading to marriage, then a change of status is required for the remaining friendships. Also, this could cause potential problems with jealousy, mixed signals, and mixed messages. This is a situation I experienced firsthand over the summer.
Second, though the establishment of young women as “sisters” prevents attachments that are more than friendship, it does not do so with immaculate consistency. Crushes still can form before the connection as siblings has taken root. And even if it has been established as a brother-sister relationship, it does not preclude the possibility of either party wanting it to become something more, and thus changing the status quo.
Every good friendship I’ve been given, as I said before, has been not of my own work, nor have I ever been able to make a good friendship out of effort. They just happen. Thinking back to a crush, there was a girl I wanted to get to know, but was unable to due to her personality and the circumstances surrounding our friendship. It was a bridge I could not get over. The friendship failed because I tired to make it more than it would have been naturally.
But that itself is the key. Every bad or wrong relationship I have had has been one in which I tired to make the friendship into something I wanted, or tired to manipulate it to get something I wanted. On the other hand, the best friendships I have had were free of my involvement. They weren’t formed by any feelings or desires of my own making.
Both in friendship, but more so in the relationship that will lead to marriage, the same principle will apply. Not something I push for or work for based on any desire, attraction, or emotion, but instead something that develops free of my intervention. So often people form relationships because they like each other. Their desire for the relationship or for each other mutates the natural course that the friendship was meant to take. God is the real author of marriage-love, and only he can stir it up properly. We humans need not intervene.
Of course, for me the one exception that makes this rule a problem is Laura. I never tired to make us anything. To my knowledge and understanding, it just happened, not based on intent or desire almost until the end. Not quite sure how that factors in… Shall I end this blog off with a question?
Monday, October 4, 2010
Am I Understood?
Sometimes it's embarrassing to talk to you
To hold a conversation with the only one who sees right through
This version of myself
I try to hide behind
I'll bury my face because my disgrace will leave me terrified
And sometimes I'm so thankful for your loyalty
Your love regardless of
The mistakes I make will spoil me
My confidence is, in a sense, a gift you've given me
And I'm satisfied to realize you're all I'll ever need
You looked into my life and never stopped
And you're thinking all my thoughts
Are so simple, but so beautiful
And you recite my words right back to me
Before I even speak
You let me know, I am understood
And sometimes I spend my time
Just trying to escape
I work so hard so desperately, in an attempt to create space
Cause I want distance from the utmost important thing I know
I see your love, then turn my back and beg for you to go
You're the only one who understands completely
You're the only one knows me yet still loves completely
And sometimes the place I'm at is at a loss for words
If I think of something worthy I know that its already yours
And through the times I've faded and you've outlined me again
You've just patiently waited, to bring me back and then
You looked into my life and never stopped
And you're thinking all my thoughts
Are so simple, but so beautiful
To hold a conversation with the only one who sees right through
This version of myself
I try to hide behind
I'll bury my face because my disgrace will leave me terrified
And sometimes I'm so thankful for your loyalty
Your love regardless of
The mistakes I make will spoil me
My confidence is, in a sense, a gift you've given me
And I'm satisfied to realize you're all I'll ever need
You looked into my life and never stopped
And you're thinking all my thoughts
Are so simple, but so beautiful
And you recite my words right back to me
Before I even speak
You let me know, I am understood
And sometimes I spend my time
Just trying to escape
I work so hard so desperately, in an attempt to create space
Cause I want distance from the utmost important thing I know
I see your love, then turn my back and beg for you to go
You're the only one who understands completely
You're the only one knows me yet still loves completely
And sometimes the place I'm at is at a loss for words
If I think of something worthy I know that its already yours
And through the times I've faded and you've outlined me again
You've just patiently waited, to bring me back and then
You looked into my life and never stopped
And you're thinking all my thoughts
Are so simple, but so beautiful
Friday, September 10, 2010
I Praise God For...
I write letters in a notebook every day. I have since the beginning of 2010. These letters were originally addressed to the young woman I believed I was meant to marry, but recently they have changed from letters to my unknown future wife to letters to God.
As in the rest of life, I find it hard sometimes to express my thoughts when I’m praying verbally, and the opportunity to write my daily life out as a prayer has come more naturally to me than I expected. I call them my “daily letters”.
This is an excerpt from those “daily letters” written on August 31, on the bus ride to Journey to the Heart.
_______________________
On the way there we are supposed to think of ten things we are each thankful for. I don’t think this should be too hard for me.
One. I am thankful for forgiveness and healing. Both forgiveness I’ve been given by my parents, and by you, as well as the releasing healing of forgiving others. I know I still struggle with resentment and grudges, but with you I press on, because you have forgiven me.
Two. I am thankful for heritage. This involves many facets. Primarily among them is my family, namely my parents. The family I was created to be a part of is not perfect, far from it, but my parents have been long suffering, taking your path with faith and grace. I am proud of the parents I’ve been given, as well as the family line they pass to me. From physical traits inherited, to personality traits taught, I love who I am in my family.
Three. I am thankful for nationality. Like with my family it is not a choice of mine where and when I was born. I am and American. My love for this aspect of my heritage is tied to my desire to draw close to you. If I desire to see my nation be great, then I must desire to draw closer to you myself. There is no greater service I can do for my country.
Four. I am thankful for destiny. You, father, have a plan or me than is unique. I have been created by you to fulfill your purpose in a way no one else can. This destiny is all encompassing. It involves my past: who I have been, how I have grown to be what I am not, and what things have happened to make me who I am. I did not make myself. It involves my future; what I'll become. I have faith that you will shape me. You are in control
Five. I am thankful for Verity. Part of becoming who I am supposed to be is here. Though I may disagree with the theology of some of the leadership, I know this is where I am meant to be. You are growing me like a vine. This is your vineyard for me.
Six. I am thankful for SSI. The organization, leadership, and teaching I received over those weeks are a large part of who I am and who I have become. Attending that camp, and working for Mr. Muffett and Mr. Visscher shaped my worldview. Though things have changed for them in some of our eyes, the program is blessed of you. May it continue to be a blessing to other young people.
Seven. I am thankful for my wife. Though I don’t know her face yet, I love her as Christ loves the church. I want to lift her up to you always. I am thankful for her grace and love for me. For her heard and mind. I am especially thankful doe her because, more than any other person in my life, she will have shown me greatest forgiveness by accepting me in spite of the many times and ways I have already been unfaithful to her. She is your give to me, and I praise you for the beauty that she is.
Eight. I am thankful for fellowship. The people you have brought into my live and taken away. They have all impacted me, in ways both known and unknown. I am thankful for David Auge, my roommate, who I appreciate and care for. He challenges me and helps me through those challenges. I could not ask for someone better as a roommate. Peter Rupp, Tyler, Josh Austhof, Jordan, Josh Ingersol; Cameron, Alex, Elisa, Kayla, Sarah and Gem. Brent back home who has been stead and faithful, holding me accountable and always being reliable. So many more friends I could name. Bless them all in your care.
Nine. I am thankful for the physical gifts I’ve been given. Nothing I own is from my own hands. From my computer, to my car. My camera, swords, I-Pods, pocket watch, knives, fountain pen, and notebook… the list goes on. These gifts I hold dear; you have blessed them. Many times they should have failed , broken, died, or been lost, yet you sustained them to me. You have been faithful to me thru them beyond what I deserve.
Ten. I am thankful for my life. All these things I have listed are not of my doing. They are memories and blessings. Gifts of favor from you, Almighty father.
As in the rest of life, I find it hard sometimes to express my thoughts when I’m praying verbally, and the opportunity to write my daily life out as a prayer has come more naturally to me than I expected. I call them my “daily letters”.
This is an excerpt from those “daily letters” written on August 31, on the bus ride to Journey to the Heart.
_______________________
On the way there we are supposed to think of ten things we are each thankful for. I don’t think this should be too hard for me.
One. I am thankful for forgiveness and healing. Both forgiveness I’ve been given by my parents, and by you, as well as the releasing healing of forgiving others. I know I still struggle with resentment and grudges, but with you I press on, because you have forgiven me.
Two. I am thankful for heritage. This involves many facets. Primarily among them is my family, namely my parents. The family I was created to be a part of is not perfect, far from it, but my parents have been long suffering, taking your path with faith and grace. I am proud of the parents I’ve been given, as well as the family line they pass to me. From physical traits inherited, to personality traits taught, I love who I am in my family.
Three. I am thankful for nationality. Like with my family it is not a choice of mine where and when I was born. I am and American. My love for this aspect of my heritage is tied to my desire to draw close to you. If I desire to see my nation be great, then I must desire to draw closer to you myself. There is no greater service I can do for my country.
Four. I am thankful for destiny. You, father, have a plan or me than is unique. I have been created by you to fulfill your purpose in a way no one else can. This destiny is all encompassing. It involves my past: who I have been, how I have grown to be what I am not, and what things have happened to make me who I am. I did not make myself. It involves my future; what I'll become. I have faith that you will shape me. You are in control
Five. I am thankful for Verity. Part of becoming who I am supposed to be is here. Though I may disagree with the theology of some of the leadership, I know this is where I am meant to be. You are growing me like a vine. This is your vineyard for me.
Six. I am thankful for SSI. The organization, leadership, and teaching I received over those weeks are a large part of who I am and who I have become. Attending that camp, and working for Mr. Muffett and Mr. Visscher shaped my worldview. Though things have changed for them in some of our eyes, the program is blessed of you. May it continue to be a blessing to other young people.
Seven. I am thankful for my wife. Though I don’t know her face yet, I love her as Christ loves the church. I want to lift her up to you always. I am thankful for her grace and love for me. For her heard and mind. I am especially thankful doe her because, more than any other person in my life, she will have shown me greatest forgiveness by accepting me in spite of the many times and ways I have already been unfaithful to her. She is your give to me, and I praise you for the beauty that she is.
Eight. I am thankful for fellowship. The people you have brought into my live and taken away. They have all impacted me, in ways both known and unknown. I am thankful for David Auge, my roommate, who I appreciate and care for. He challenges me and helps me through those challenges. I could not ask for someone better as a roommate. Peter Rupp, Tyler, Josh Austhof, Jordan, Josh Ingersol; Cameron, Alex, Elisa, Kayla, Sarah and Gem. Brent back home who has been stead and faithful, holding me accountable and always being reliable. So many more friends I could name. Bless them all in your care.
Nine. I am thankful for the physical gifts I’ve been given. Nothing I own is from my own hands. From my computer, to my car. My camera, swords, I-Pods, pocket watch, knives, fountain pen, and notebook… the list goes on. These gifts I hold dear; you have blessed them. Many times they should have failed , broken, died, or been lost, yet you sustained them to me. You have been faithful to me thru them beyond what I deserve.
Ten. I am thankful for my life. All these things I have listed are not of my doing. They are memories and blessings. Gifts of favor from you, Almighty father.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
I praise God because i drove a Saturn
I'll be the first to admit that I have a lot of growing to do. There are a lot of flaws in my character that I just cannot accept, but change comes slowly to me. My memory is poor, I never explain something the same way twice, and I speak from my emotions. These three flaws all factor together, and have led people to think that I am two sided, or that I lie. Perhaps in effect I do lie, but that is never my intent, nor do I even realize I do it. I forget details that others find important, and when I do remember them, I wont remember them necessarily in context or in a consistent manner. I can say one thing to one person in a good mood, and the same thing to another person in a bad mood, and because I speak from my emotions, the two people can see a very different result of what is, to me, a consistent concept. If that makes me untrustworthy, then I will admit to it. These factors are the character flaws that, when combined with selfish fear of losing people and a kind of masochistic self preservation, are the cause of failed friendships.
In spite of these immaturities, I have felt ready to move on with my life for more than four years now. Whether I truly was ready to take the next step in my life or not is questionable, but the point remains, I have wanted to be in college, and even more so out of college since before the time I turned sixteen. My high school years were spent reaching out for higher education opportunities. College is what I wanted and what I sought after. But more than that I wanted to get beyond college. The end goal was to begin my “adult life” with careers, family, house, etc. College was, and still is, merely a step towards what I really feel drawn to.
I started looking at small colleges, like Bryan, Huntington, And GLCC, until at a Home school Conference, Patrick Henry Came across my view. In my mind PHC was not a “small college” but rather a college for people who shared my specific dreams in a very real way. I applied when I was seventeen, was accepted, and began distance classes in January of 2008.
Patrick Henry appeared perfect for me: an intense academic program for the civic-minded Judeo-Christian young person. The professors were experts in fields I still love; and students are often placed into jobs and internships while in school that are specifically oriented to jumpstart the sort of career I feel called into. It fit so well.
I was almost sure that PHC was where God wanted me. I became attached to the idea of being there. When God closed that door, it hurt. It had felt so right for me to be there, and suddenly the dream I had formed and become attached to was torn away. Less than a year later, after forming a similar, stronger attachment to Hillsdale college, which suited my desires even better than PHC, a door was again closed in my face, and what I had grow to believe were Gods plans for me stung.
While both Hillsdale and PHC had suited certain desires and needs, neither was perfect for me. I had been willing to accept that. Alas, in my vision, because those paths had seemed so right at the time, I had forgotten what parts of my heart they wouldn’t have fulfilled. I had accepted that College would take a long time while dragging my in dept in the process.
With a broken spirit, shortly after turning nineteen and with the feeling of hopelessness after wasting two years on dead ends, my mother mentioned Verity in passing in the beginning of December 2009. Literally overnight, all the necessary plans fell into place, and by January 4, 2010.
While PHC and Hillsdale had provided opportunities and seemed right, they were not going to fulfill the true desires I had for college, ones that I had not taken seriously. From the pain of having two good looking doors closed in my face, God brought me to a place that fulfilled not only the need for college, but the desire to move forward faster towards my adult life; towards the next step.
My parents bought me a car to go down to Verity. A Saturn L300. It would be my first car. I had driven another car regularly, but the Buick was a hand me down from other people we knew. It had been my car, but it wasn’t brought into our family for me. There was something about the nature of the Saturn, the reason it had been purchased, that made it feel personal. I fell in love with that car very quickly. It was mine. It suited me, it drove the way I liked to drive, and it looked wonderful.
There as been a small dream in me since I was old enough to understand what cars were what. I think most guys have a dream like this. I never wanted a Ferrari or a Mercedes, or even a Mustang. Those seemed too much car for me. I wanted something that was moderately powerful, looked good, but was simpler than other sports cars, and something I could put a little work into over time. A Camero was often the image I carried in my mind.
Understand, I am not a car person. I was happy with an old Buick. I don’t really care in the end what I drive, as long as it is reliable. When I say I wanted a car, it was never something I really took seriously. It was a passing fancy and a desire I could have lived my life without.
I really loved my Saturn, for whatever reason. When it died, probably because of my own poor automotive conduct, I was really upset. Admittedly a lot had been going wrong that week, and the death of something I had become attached to hit me harder than I was ready for. Something God had given, and I had been so grateful for was removed forcibly from my life and I couldn’t do anything about it.
But God was good. I had needed something; a new vehicle. Not only did God provide me with what I needed, but He also remembered that little, insignificant, meaningless desire that I had had somewhere in the back of my heart. My Firebird is not new, but the engine inside of it is. It needs work in small areas that can be done over time. It runs beautifully, but has the power to be imposing on the road. It isn’t only what I needed, but its what I wanted.
From the ashes of pain God has brought me more than I had needed. God is my protector; why should I be afraid of pain when I know that he has something better on the other side. God is my provider; He satisfies my needs and wants in the best possible way. God is my father; He indulges my pointless wishes in ways I can’t imagine.
I am not afraid of whatever hardships come to me in the future. Every struggle in my life so far has brought me more joy on the other side, both in small ways and in big ways.
When something I love is taken away from me, it still hurts, but God is on the other side waiting with something better. The exiting part is seeing how He will bring about his blessings. Without the pain of loss, the joy of blessings cannot come. No matter what I lose, He will grant more. If more hardships and losses are to come for me, then I will accept them and grow; for my god is greater.
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world!” –Jesus, John 16:33
In spite of these immaturities, I have felt ready to move on with my life for more than four years now. Whether I truly was ready to take the next step in my life or not is questionable, but the point remains, I have wanted to be in college, and even more so out of college since before the time I turned sixteen. My high school years were spent reaching out for higher education opportunities. College is what I wanted and what I sought after. But more than that I wanted to get beyond college. The end goal was to begin my “adult life” with careers, family, house, etc. College was, and still is, merely a step towards what I really feel drawn to.
I started looking at small colleges, like Bryan, Huntington, And GLCC, until at a Home school Conference, Patrick Henry Came across my view. In my mind PHC was not a “small college” but rather a college for people who shared my specific dreams in a very real way. I applied when I was seventeen, was accepted, and began distance classes in January of 2008.
Patrick Henry appeared perfect for me: an intense academic program for the civic-minded Judeo-Christian young person. The professors were experts in fields I still love; and students are often placed into jobs and internships while in school that are specifically oriented to jumpstart the sort of career I feel called into. It fit so well.
I was almost sure that PHC was where God wanted me. I became attached to the idea of being there. When God closed that door, it hurt. It had felt so right for me to be there, and suddenly the dream I had formed and become attached to was torn away. Less than a year later, after forming a similar, stronger attachment to Hillsdale college, which suited my desires even better than PHC, a door was again closed in my face, and what I had grow to believe were Gods plans for me stung.
While both Hillsdale and PHC had suited certain desires and needs, neither was perfect for me. I had been willing to accept that. Alas, in my vision, because those paths had seemed so right at the time, I had forgotten what parts of my heart they wouldn’t have fulfilled. I had accepted that College would take a long time while dragging my in dept in the process.
With a broken spirit, shortly after turning nineteen and with the feeling of hopelessness after wasting two years on dead ends, my mother mentioned Verity in passing in the beginning of December 2009. Literally overnight, all the necessary plans fell into place, and by January 4, 2010.
While PHC and Hillsdale had provided opportunities and seemed right, they were not going to fulfill the true desires I had for college, ones that I had not taken seriously. From the pain of having two good looking doors closed in my face, God brought me to a place that fulfilled not only the need for college, but the desire to move forward faster towards my adult life; towards the next step.
My parents bought me a car to go down to Verity. A Saturn L300. It would be my first car. I had driven another car regularly, but the Buick was a hand me down from other people we knew. It had been my car, but it wasn’t brought into our family for me. There was something about the nature of the Saturn, the reason it had been purchased, that made it feel personal. I fell in love with that car very quickly. It was mine. It suited me, it drove the way I liked to drive, and it looked wonderful.
There as been a small dream in me since I was old enough to understand what cars were what. I think most guys have a dream like this. I never wanted a Ferrari or a Mercedes, or even a Mustang. Those seemed too much car for me. I wanted something that was moderately powerful, looked good, but was simpler than other sports cars, and something I could put a little work into over time. A Camero was often the image I carried in my mind.
Understand, I am not a car person. I was happy with an old Buick. I don’t really care in the end what I drive, as long as it is reliable. When I say I wanted a car, it was never something I really took seriously. It was a passing fancy and a desire I could have lived my life without.
I really loved my Saturn, for whatever reason. When it died, probably because of my own poor automotive conduct, I was really upset. Admittedly a lot had been going wrong that week, and the death of something I had become attached to hit me harder than I was ready for. Something God had given, and I had been so grateful for was removed forcibly from my life and I couldn’t do anything about it.
But God was good. I had needed something; a new vehicle. Not only did God provide me with what I needed, but He also remembered that little, insignificant, meaningless desire that I had had somewhere in the back of my heart. My Firebird is not new, but the engine inside of it is. It needs work in small areas that can be done over time. It runs beautifully, but has the power to be imposing on the road. It isn’t only what I needed, but its what I wanted.
From the ashes of pain God has brought me more than I had needed. God is my protector; why should I be afraid of pain when I know that he has something better on the other side. God is my provider; He satisfies my needs and wants in the best possible way. God is my father; He indulges my pointless wishes in ways I can’t imagine.
I am not afraid of whatever hardships come to me in the future. Every struggle in my life so far has brought me more joy on the other side, both in small ways and in big ways.
When something I love is taken away from me, it still hurts, but God is on the other side waiting with something better. The exiting part is seeing how He will bring about his blessings. Without the pain of loss, the joy of blessings cannot come. No matter what I lose, He will grant more. If more hardships and losses are to come for me, then I will accept them and grow; for my god is greater.
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world!” –Jesus, John 16:33
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Table (re)Classified
Rosee: Merilwen Skye
Animal: Bunny
Color: Brown
:
Superpower: Zero Point Energy
Josh: Tarburz - Edraith
Animal: Golden Retriever
Color: Blue
Super Power: Ability Empath
Amanda: Melda
Animal: Kitten
Color: Purple
Superpower: Force Fields/ Invisibility
Donny: Donathon
Animal: Hamster
Color: Green
Super Power: Perfect Memory
Zeke: Xenath
Animal: Wallaby
Color: Grey
Super Power: Emotion Channeling
Nathan: EruAntien
Animal: Wild Horse
Color: Red
Super Power: Total Body Mastery
Animal: Bunny
Color: Brown
:
Superpower: Zero Point Energy
Josh: Tarburz - Edraith
Animal: Golden Retriever
Color: Blue
Super Power: Ability Empath
Amanda: Melda
Animal: Kitten
Color: Purple
Superpower: Force Fields/ Invisibility
Donny: Donathon
Animal: Hamster
Color: Green
Super Power: Perfect Memory
Zeke: Xenath
Animal: Wallaby
Color: Grey
Super Power: Emotion Channeling
Nathan: EruAntien
Animal: Wild Horse
Color: Red
Super Power: Total Body Mastery
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Crisis
In times of crisis, people want somewhere to turn. It’s proven that more people come to Christ in after a disaster, or when things are hard, than when life is simple and easy. During a crisis, people want to turn to an authority to save them, to give one person the power to end the distress. Healthcare crisis, housing crisis, unemployment crisis, swine-flu crisis, economic crisis, national debt crisis. What answer has been given for these crises? Give the government more money.
There was a nation, a world power, rich in culture and society. They had accumulated a large national debt from a retaliatory war, which they had started. Their once impressive currency was dwindling fast, and an economic crisis was in full swing. Then a new leader came on the scene. He was a young leader, new to the political realm, for which he was proud; he, as many, blamed the entrenched government officials who were to set in their ways for their situations. He was a charismatic young man, and a strong, passionate speaker. He spoke of Change and Hope. He promised to provide social security to the poor. He promised to provide health care for the weak. He promised to recover the falling nation. He took over the dying car companies of his nation. He bought and bailed out banks and businesses. His name was Hitler. His nation was Germany.
When the money ran out, he started cutting government programs. He let the poor, insane sickly with no families in institutions die, so the government wouldn’t have to support them. Then he killed the lonely elderly, so he wouldn’t have to support them. Then he used prisoners and convicts as medical experiments, so he wouldn’t have to support them. Then he decided that his was the greatest evolvement of man, and began a holocaust.
There was a nation, a world power, rich in culture and society. They had accumulated a large national debt from a retaliatory war, which they had started. Their once impressive currency was dwindling fast, and an economic crisis was in full swing. Then a new leader came on the scene. He was a young leader, new to the political realm, for which he was proud; he, as many, blamed the entrenched government officials who were to set in their ways for their situations. He was a charismatic young man, and a strong, passionate speaker. He spoke of Change and Hope. He promised to provide social security to the poor. He promised to provide health care for the weak. He promised to recover the falling nation. He took over the dying car companies of his nation. He bought and bailed out banks and businesses. His name is Obama. His nation is our nation.
. . .
Some day you are going to die. Don’t be sad about that, or afraid of it, you are a Christian, and you know where you are going.
Your are in heaven, in the presence of God. When you’ve been there ten thousand years, “bright shining as the sun”, You get invited to Moses’ mansion, “for in my house there are many…” There are a bunch of other champions of scripture there. You all get to talking to Moses and ask him about what he was feeling when he and his people were trapped between the red sea and Pharaoh, and what he did in that crisis.
Moses tells the story up to that point, and he says, “In that crisis, the people wanted to turn back to Egypt. I stretched out my hand, my staff in it, and trusted God, and He provided me a way. I could have done nothing, so I sold out to Him, and he solved the crisis.”
Then you turn to David and ask him what it was like to face Goliath. He tells the story and says, “The people wanted to give up, but I took courage and took my sling. I could have done nothing, so I sold out to Him. I took my sling, hit him in the head, and took his sword, and decapitated him. He solved the crisis.”
Joshua steps forward and tells his story, how he shouted and sold out to God, and God solved the crisis. Paul comes forward, as does Deborah, and Jonah, and Job, and Daniel. They sold out to God, and He solved their crisis. Then they all turn to you.
Christ comes up, sets up a screen and plays a movie, depicting a great revival, and the turning of a nation to Him, and the crisis being solved. He says, “This is what you could have done. The people wanted to give up and turn to a government to save them. This is what you could have done if you were a little more sold out to me. I'd solve the crisis.”
But we aren't dead, you have life and breath. This is our crisis. Who are we sold out to? God? The government? China?
There was a nation, a world power, rich in culture and society. They had accumulated a large national debt from a retaliatory war, which they had started. Their once impressive currency was dwindling fast, and an economic crisis was in full swing. Then a new leader came on the scene. He was a young leader, new to the political realm, for which he was proud; he, as many, blamed the entrenched government officials who were to set in their ways for their situations. He was a charismatic young man, and a strong, passionate speaker. He spoke of Change and Hope. He promised to provide social security to the poor. He promised to provide health care for the weak. He promised to recover the falling nation. He took over the dying car companies of his nation. He bought and bailed out banks and businesses. His name was Hitler. His nation was Germany.
When the money ran out, he started cutting government programs. He let the poor, insane sickly with no families in institutions die, so the government wouldn’t have to support them. Then he killed the lonely elderly, so he wouldn’t have to support them. Then he used prisoners and convicts as medical experiments, so he wouldn’t have to support them. Then he decided that his was the greatest evolvement of man, and began a holocaust.
There was a nation, a world power, rich in culture and society. They had accumulated a large national debt from a retaliatory war, which they had started. Their once impressive currency was dwindling fast, and an economic crisis was in full swing. Then a new leader came on the scene. He was a young leader, new to the political realm, for which he was proud; he, as many, blamed the entrenched government officials who were to set in their ways for their situations. He was a charismatic young man, and a strong, passionate speaker. He spoke of Change and Hope. He promised to provide social security to the poor. He promised to provide health care for the weak. He promised to recover the falling nation. He took over the dying car companies of his nation. He bought and bailed out banks and businesses. His name is Obama. His nation is our nation.
. . .
Some day you are going to die. Don’t be sad about that, or afraid of it, you are a Christian, and you know where you are going.
Your are in heaven, in the presence of God. When you’ve been there ten thousand years, “bright shining as the sun”, You get invited to Moses’ mansion, “for in my house there are many…” There are a bunch of other champions of scripture there. You all get to talking to Moses and ask him about what he was feeling when he and his people were trapped between the red sea and Pharaoh, and what he did in that crisis.
Moses tells the story up to that point, and he says, “In that crisis, the people wanted to turn back to Egypt. I stretched out my hand, my staff in it, and trusted God, and He provided me a way. I could have done nothing, so I sold out to Him, and he solved the crisis.”
Then you turn to David and ask him what it was like to face Goliath. He tells the story and says, “The people wanted to give up, but I took courage and took my sling. I could have done nothing, so I sold out to Him. I took my sling, hit him in the head, and took his sword, and decapitated him. He solved the crisis.”
Joshua steps forward and tells his story, how he shouted and sold out to God, and God solved the crisis. Paul comes forward, as does Deborah, and Jonah, and Job, and Daniel. They sold out to God, and He solved their crisis. Then they all turn to you.
Christ comes up, sets up a screen and plays a movie, depicting a great revival, and the turning of a nation to Him, and the crisis being solved. He says, “This is what you could have done. The people wanted to give up and turn to a government to save them. This is what you could have done if you were a little more sold out to me. I'd solve the crisis.”
But we aren't dead, you have life and breath. This is our crisis. Who are we sold out to? God? The government? China?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
A Nineteen Year Olds Understanding
God is truly in control. When I start letting my heart and mind out of place, He sends me something to remind me of why I’m here and what I am called to be. I know that He is going to work in me, Since arriving here at Verity, every chapel and scripture reading has show me something more about my what God wants me to be. He will use me and work within me while I am here. I know He is talking to me, I just hope I have the heart to truly listen. I pray that I will come home as the person prepared for His path. I’m not complete yet.
There are things in this life that I want. I want to be successful and secure. I want Gordo to be pleased with me and to feel his fulfillment within me. I want a family. I want specific people in my life.
But I know that in order to follow Him, I have to give up what I think will make me happy, or at least be willing to.
I realize now that I have no right to know truth. I desire to, and I will strive to, but Gods truth does not need me, it is strong enough without my understanding or support. The truth does not need me, I need it. It is my nature to want to understand and plan and know the future for myself. But like Paul said, “Can the pot say to the potter, ‘Why did you make me this way?’” I don’t think that has to be an antagonistic question necessarily, or even a challenge to God’s design; rather for me it is a simple desire to understand why I am made this way and what I am to do.
But as I said before it is not my place to know sometimes. God doesn’t ask me to understand only to obey. “This is how things are, because it is how I say they are; so just do as I've asked of you.”
When I really stop and let go of my need to understand, I see that it is a matter of pride. When face with situations I don’t understand, I have no way of knowing what to do in my power, or how to control the situation. But if I have really let Him rule in my life, why should I need to control?
That’s why it is necessary to let go of what I want on some levels. My desires are based on my own understanding of who I am and what I want with my life, and they drive me to manipulate my life to seek after them. This being said, it makes even some of the smallest desires into an idol; something that distracts from is understanding of me, and relying instead on my own.
“Lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge him and he will keep your path.”
There are things in this life that I want. I want to be successful and secure. I want Gordo to be pleased with me and to feel his fulfillment within me. I want a family. I want specific people in my life.
But I know that in order to follow Him, I have to give up what I think will make me happy, or at least be willing to.
I realize now that I have no right to know truth. I desire to, and I will strive to, but Gods truth does not need me, it is strong enough without my understanding or support. The truth does not need me, I need it. It is my nature to want to understand and plan and know the future for myself. But like Paul said, “Can the pot say to the potter, ‘Why did you make me this way?’” I don’t think that has to be an antagonistic question necessarily, or even a challenge to God’s design; rather for me it is a simple desire to understand why I am made this way and what I am to do.
But as I said before it is not my place to know sometimes. God doesn’t ask me to understand only to obey. “This is how things are, because it is how I say they are; so just do as I've asked of you.”
When I really stop and let go of my need to understand, I see that it is a matter of pride. When face with situations I don’t understand, I have no way of knowing what to do in my power, or how to control the situation. But if I have really let Him rule in my life, why should I need to control?
That’s why it is necessary to let go of what I want on some levels. My desires are based on my own understanding of who I am and what I want with my life, and they drive me to manipulate my life to seek after them. This being said, it makes even some of the smallest desires into an idol; something that distracts from is understanding of me, and relying instead on my own.
“Lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge him and he will keep your path.”
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