Sitting

It was a hard day's work for Lincoln, as any day would be. He arrived home later than usual to find his son curled up, on a pillow in the corner. He found the mail on the dinning room table and noticed a card from his older sister, Kerry, who had been away on holiday.

Must be nice to go on holiday, Lincoln thought, as he tossed away the letter. He knew what it would say, because he received so many of the same letters. So he just threw it away along with all of the old memories that he had of her. She didn't interest him as she once did.

When they were kids, Kerry fascinated Lincoln with all of her know-how and how-do's. Even when they entered into their adolescence there was an intriguing quality about her. She seemed to carry herself well and could charm any one who walked into the room.

As they got older and entered into adulthood Kerry became the successful one in the family and left Lincoln behind. He wasn't necessarily bitter, he was just was tired. Tired of her meaningless chatter, tired of getting up at the same old timee, and going to work at the same old job, and eating the same old thing for lunch, and listening to the same old boss chatter away about his new SUV, and he was tired of her. Tired of the fact that while she was off 'saving the world' he was stuck mopping up the vomit after frat parties at the local university.

Lincoln grabbed a beer and headed over to his three year old son who was cuddled up against his favorite pillow. He picked him up slowly with one arm and set him against his chest while he flipped on the ten o'clock news.

Another robbery, another murder, another scandal, another celebrity mis-hap.

He flipped off the news in disgust and discouragement and felt a constant urge to put his son in his bed. After Lincoln did he walked back into the kitchen to fix himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He sat down when he heard his front door open. The door closed slowly and without a sound Kerry walked in with blood all over her hands. She sat down and Lincoln looked at her calmly as he finished his sandwich.

He waited. Ten minutes seemed like 10 hours but he waited.

"I'm in some trouble" Kerry hesitantly stated, as she sunk into her chair.

"Yea, what do you need?" While Lincoln had never faced this kind of trouble in his own family his best friend growing up was always in trouble, and he learned that you could get anything done in America for a price.

The World is at my fingertips.

That statment is so idealistic.

I am a cynic. As you know, and if you know me well, you would soon realize that my cynicism primarily comes from my father's side.

However, my intellect comes from my mother's side, so I am at least intellectually cynical, which in most cases is the only kind you can truly be. If you are inheriently cynical but only are cynical about silly things then you are just babbling like a spring brook and have no possibility of making a complete sentence.

Although, there are some silly cynics who drive there silly opinions around so often that there are track marks on the side of your face because you have heard the same thing over and over.

Now lets be real honest here. The only true cynics are the ones who have studied until they are lost in their own study. Those who are so passionate about their study that they get seemingly lost in thier passion and suddenley become cynical. Partly because they percieve others around them to be stupid and partly because they percieve themselves as great intellectual beings with so much to offer.

Until the day whence they meet someone greater, smarter, and alas more cynical then they and they whimper away like a beaten dog with their tail between their legs.

Suddenely the cynic has vanished and has become a simpleton.

And that was the end of the previously known cynic named....

'What was that? Of course I know all about how that came to be. That statement is so idealistic.'

"Never yeild to force; never yeild to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy."
Winston Churchill


"I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere to go. My own wisdom, and that of all about me, seemed insufficient for the day."-Abraham Lincoln.

Best poem ever

ode to a best friend:

alison higgins

wore a blue wiggins(actually she died her hair)

grandpa was mad

she didn't care

next came the tat

cool as can be

in microsoft word

font spelled "love recklessly"

"what else can i do?"

she pondered with glee

"best friend has red hair,

that'd look HOT on me!"

The eyebrow ring followed

"shot of jack maam?"

but ali was tough

said no thanks to cool parlor man

Now she's a writer a scholar,

a teacher,

some people are freaked

"A woman who's a preacher?!?"

Written by K.Shea-who is my best friend.

Only in passion can wisdom truly thrive. For it is not needed until the emotional strain is so heavy that it thickens the air.

Black and White Ball!

Went to the Black and White Ball at School and it was a BLAST!

Jesus came up

I will sing this song to you and you will shake the ground for me.

and the birds and bees and old fruit trees will spit out songs like gushing streams.

and Jesus will come up from the ground so dirty,

with worms in his hair and his hands so sturdy

To call us his magic we call him worthy

Jesus came up from the ground so dirty.

I will sing this song to you and you will stomp your feet for me

and the bears and bees and bannana tress will play kazoos and tamberines

and Jesus will dance while we drink his whine

with soldiers and theives and sword in his side.

we will be joy oh we will be right

Jesus will dance while we drink his whine...

la la la la la la la la

And Jesus will come through the ground so dirty

with worms in his hair and a hand so sturdy...

Jesus came up through the ground so dirty.

Psalm 31

I run to you, God; I run for dear life.
Don’t let me down!

Take me seriously this time!
Get down on my level and listen,
and please—no procrastination!

Your granite cave a hiding place,
your high cliff aerie a place of safety.

You’re my cave to hide in,
my cliff to climb.

Be my safe leader,
be my true mountain guide.

Free me from hidden traps;
I want to hide in you.

I’ve put my life in your hands.
You won’t drop me,
you’ll never let me down.

I hate all this silly religion,
but you, God, I trust.

I’m leaping and singing in the circle of your love;
you saw my pain,
you disarmed my tormentors,

You didn’t leave me in their clutches
but gave me room to breathe.

Be kind to me, God—

I’m in deep, deep trouble again.

I’ve cried my eyes out;

I feel hollow inside.

My life leaks away, groan by groan;
my years fade out in sighs.

My troubles have worn me out,
turned my bones to powder.

To my enemies I’m a monster;
I’m ridiculed by the neighbors.

My friends are horrified;
they cross the street to avoid me.

They want to blot me from memory,
forget me like a corpse in a grave,
discard me like a broken dish in the trash.

The street-talk gossip has me
“criminally insane”!
Behind locked doors they plot
how to ruin me for good.

Desperate, I throw myself on you:
you are my God!

Hour by hour I place my days in your hand,
safe from the hands out to get me.

Warm me, your servant, with a smile;
save me because you love me.

Don’t embarrass me by not showing up;
I’ve given you plenty of notice.

Embarrass the wicked, stand them up,
leave them stupidly shaking their heads
as they drift down to hell.

Gag those loudmouthed liars
who heckle me, your follower,
with jeers and catcalls

What a stack of blessing you have piled up
for those who worship you,

Ready and waiting for all who run to you
to escape an unkind world.


You hide them safely away
from the opposition.

As you slam the door on those oily, mocking faces,
you silence the poisonous gossip.
Blessed God!

His love is the wonder of the world.
Trapped by a siege, I panicked.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” I said.
But you heard me say it,
you heard and listened.

Love God, all you saints;
God takes care of all who stay close to him,
But he pays back in full
those arrogant enough to go it alone.

Be brave. Be strong. Don’t give up.
Expect God to get here soon.

Homework! Oh Homework!

"Homework! Oh, Homework! I hate you! You stink!

I wish I could wash you away in the sink, if only a bomb would explode you to bits.

Homework! Oh, homework!You're giving me fits.

I'd rather take baths with a man-eating shark,

or wrestle a lion alone in the dark,

eat spinach and liver,

pet ten porcupines,

than tackle the homework, my teacher assigns.

Homework! Oh, homework!

you're last on my list, I simple can't see why you even exist, if you just disappeared it would tickle me pink.

Homework! Oh, homework!I hate you! You stink!"


Jack Prelutsky

This is how I am feeling about school right now. I'm ready to be done!

Random Thoughts of the Day cont'd

What if there is a divine peice that plays out. What if we no longer are just physical, mental, emotional beings that are driven by impulsive beharviour?

In Amercia we continually seek out hero's to pin point in our society. Social, Ethical, even Commercial steryotypes are clinged to because there is essentially no hope. We look at these hero's as strong, courageous, beings, without fault. People who have, and are standing up for something much bigger than themselves.

But can this be true? Probably not. Each individual has the ability to do right and wrong, if it exists at the time, and each individual has the ability to situationally change. To be a hypocrit. No one is special. No one's abilities are special, unless there is a divine being. Something that has introverted itself into culture and extroverted itself in humanity. Something that has the ability to understand and to allow big things to happen.

As understood before we are all slaves to something. We are all mastered by something. In this world something controls are beings whether it be gravity itself or the caffein that drives our physical and mental observations.

The ironic thing in America is we so long for freedom that we have lost the understanding of what it truly is. We so long for freedom but when we are given it we look at it and laugh like it is an impossibility. But, if we are enslaved how can we truly ever be free.

Again it must come back to something divine. Something that is separated from humanity itself but activley intervenes on our behalf.

But will this divine being free us from our selfishness just to please it's own desire for our selves. Have we been found twisted in a game of tug-a-war, where we are the -a-?

We can only be freed by something outsound of ourselves but when does this ever truly happen, and if it does don't we find ourselves enslaved to something just as bad.

Whether it be debt, loss, pain, misunderstanding, self-pity, ignorance, heroin, racism, alchochol, bitterness, caffien, sexual identity, or even love in it's pureist form. While all these things seem good on their own when mixed with the desire and the impusion of humanity something synister occurs. We have no control over anything nor do we really have control over our own selves.

Because none of us are true heros. None of us truly can grasp the duality of being a great purist and a scathing narcisist.

But I continue to go back to this simple and yet complex question of what if? What if purity of heart can be found? What if we can touch and taste these purities?

What if?

Light and Dark...the Contrast

So as I stated before in my earlier blog, I ink I have found a solution to black and white theology.

Well I guess it would not be considered a solution, since in the reality of theology solutions simply don't exist.

But I think that I have connected two ideas that I, personally, have never seen connected before.

When we look at Black, White, and Grey we see concrete absolutes. They can destroy each other as well as themselves through moral obstructions.

This is the way the church has been looking at the world. That is our first problem. The church needs to stop using the Black and White theology and start using the Light and Dark theology.

Light and Dark is an anology that is used throughout the Bible.

"I am the light of the world"-Jesus

"This is the message we have heard and declare to you: God is light in him there is no darkness. If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his son, purifies us from all sin." 1 John 1: 5-7

So the church has been viewing the way of Jesus as a moral ideal when they should have been viewing the way of Jesus as everything. All of life.

Light is not concrete.

The interesting thing about light is that it is flexiable. It defies scientific reasoning and it is a creation that is of epic proportion.


Darkness is not concrete either.

It has the ability to change the atmosphere of a situation. Things happen in the dark that are not scene. The dark is something of a mystery to us so we tell scary stories about it, because it's easier to be frightened by it then to be educated about it.

Light can always overcome darkness. Put one singe candle in a darkened room and every space can be shown to one degree or another.

These ideas are not concrete and they are not based on the moral subjectives that used to rule and dominate our world.

We have, as a church, gone one way or the other. We have declared that we will stick to the Black and White moral theology that has worked for us in the past, or we say love all tolerate all.

God's love isn't tolerant.

We have forgotten that Light conquers Dark and that Dark has a tendencty to conquer Black White and Gray.

As a Church we need to start asking the question; what did Jesus mean when he said

"I am the light of the world"

And how do we live that out in a morally stripped and subversivley spiritual culture?

Abstract versus Concrete.

Black and White.

This is how the church has dealt with issues for the last couple of centuries. Everything is either right or wrong. There is a gray but that is a dangerous place to be or as the church goers call it "lukewarm."

Except the idea of black and white don't exist in the Bible. Jesus never stands on a hill and says;
"White is and absolute and it represents good. Black is an absolute and it represents Bad. There is also gray but that is the world you live in and that is something you want to stay away from. Gray makes things complicated, so you should just stay white. Don't mix with the culture."

There is one main problem with this theological veiw point: the church has created these categories to be concrete. White is an absolute so it cannot be changed. It cannot be added to and it cannot be reconstructed. Black is the same way. We cannot change black because it is also an absolute. Since we cannot touch these absolutes we certiantley cannot obtain either of them. I cannot become white because white is already established and I cannot become black because black has already been established. So I guess if I can't be either of these things I am gray. This ultimatley makes sense because I have white(good) and black(bad) in my soul. But I cannot move from gray because it is an absolute as well.

White, Black, and Gray are all moral issues. Everything is moral in this category so everything else is left behind. If everything is black and white then your morals must be set at an early age and never change. There is no room for God to move.

The church has used this analogy for such a long time that it does not know what to do in this culture. It doesn't know whether to stick with the Black and White theology even though it won't float and it won't be recieved well, or whether it should just be "tolerate" and "love" everyone.

This is what I think is one of the biggest issues in the Amercian church is.

I also think that there is a solution to this problem but more on that later.

Random thoughts of the day....

We enter into every situation representing something. If we lose our identities in our role as a sisiter, mother, daughter, wife we seemingly lose ourselves.

When we strip away our roles our identity still remains. When we walk into every situaiton we represent something, and that is our identity. But if we don't find our identity in our roles where do we find it or discover it?

Do we find it in the physical body? Is the essence of our identity the physical random movement that occurs? This can not be it becuase I need my mind to move.

So is the intellectual the identity that we need to discover? The capacity of our mind must stop somewhere and where it stops must be when we die. Is our intellect our identity? How can this be if many of my decisions are made by my emotions. By the pain and the love that I feel. By the undeniable passion that stirs my lust for money, food, sex, reputation. So then is our identity found in the emotional stat? Does my emotioanl lust run my life? Is this all I am: a selfish shell of inconsisties?

Where does my identity come from? My anscenstors? My hometown? My reputation? My friends? My past? My talents and abilities? My religious stature?

If my identity is found and formed by all of these outside and inside elements all of my decisions are already made. My life is doomed from the beginning because my life is a big cirlce. It is a repetitive cycle of past experiences redifing my present experiences. Nothing is new and nothing can be original. All of my thoughts are all the same but as I get older they just are fromed in a new way. Same message, different presentation. All I am is a large amount of marked experiences that mean nothing and represent nothing. I am a large waste of molecules and chemical reactions.

But what if?

That statement makes something new possible. What if I am something? What if my identity is found somewhere that is not created? Something that is not humanly innovated?

What if? Can I even ask this question? Is dreaming apart of my old recollections or is it a divine inspiration that is meant to be known and addressed. Do we reall have an identity or do we just have a reality in which souls pass by in their physical representations.

What if?

The "Holy" Crusades

When the mission loses it's divine mystery it becomes human tyrany.

When passion becomes fury your self gets in the way of your mission, and the bigger picture becomes a narrowed glimpse of individualism. Then you give permission to your passion to turn into a rage of words and actions. We forget empathy and compassion. We foget the holiness of the mission, and we forget the humanity partnered with the divine.

"I regret my abortion"

We become a shouter hoping that our voice gets not only heard, but also taken seriously.

We walk in a protest. A protest that allows us to yell and shout and curse the other side. The "immoral" side. We no longer use Atticus' sense of understanding and we send individuals to Hell with no regard for their actions. We take no responsibility for anyone else. As long as we can yell louder than the other party we are justified to undress the sins of someone else.

"Why abortion started
1.) Women started wearing pants in the church"

We violentley vomit disgrace on the other party and act like we are allowed to serve as a judge to all. We condemn rather that convict, we repremand rather than rebuke, we hate rather than love. We no longer see the big picture all we see is the cause. The right to be heard, the right to be right.

"Face it...abortion Kills"

Our holy motivation from the beginning gets lost in the secular realm of ideas and soon the reality sets in that we are controlling everything said and everything done. Everything gets lost in the shuffle and no one longer cares if you speak up because we no longer are making anysort of difference. We have been added to the rank of the annoying and unintelligent and we no longer are taken seriously.

There is no longer a point because no one listens. No one listens because the dark cannot attract the dark. The dark cannot make any sort of impact on the dark.

When the church starts blaming others for sin itself we have become lost and no longer understand Christ.

"Let others complain that the age is wicked; my complaint is that it is paltry; for it lacks passion. Men's thoughts are thin and flimsy like lace, they are themselves pitiable like the lacemakers. The thoughts of their hearts are too paltry to be sinful. For a worm it might be regarded as a sin to harbor such thoughts, but not for a being made in the image of God. Their lusts are dull and sluggish, their passions sleepy. they do their duty, these shopkeeping souls, but they clip the coin a trifle, like the Jews; they think that even if the Lord keeps ever so careful a set of books, they may still cheat Him a little." Either/Or, Kierkegaard

The passion that we have, cannot control us or we will be in a heap of debt and we will no longer see the plan that God has for our world and every single person in it.

Keroke and our adventures on Saturday Night

Jake on the phone with me, angry because we are lost.... Jake on the phone with me, excited that were coming(even though we got lost and didn't make it)

Chubby Cheeks. I didn't bring this up.
Travis and Jake singing their hearts out.
Amy, Tiffany, and I at Kareoke!

Saved

Mr. Leeds: Does man kind deserve to be saved?
Cleavland Heap: What?
Mr. Leeds: Man?
Cleavland Heep:pauses... Yes

The ultimate question occurs in this simple dialogue that occurs in Lady in the Water between the main character and a side character. Cleavland's family murdered and his life has never been the same. When Cleavland meets Story, the lady in the water, his purpose becomes clear, but not until the end of his journey.

He is on a mission to save this mythical creature and in his journey this simple conversation takes place.

This question that has been on the mind of people for centuries and in a time like this is even more prevelant.

Does man kind really deserve to be saved?

On Saturday night I went with a couple of friends out on the town. Unfortunatley we got lost for a couple of hours, but we had a pretty interesting conversation in the car on the way to Denny's/on the way back to Lincoln. We had two different aspects of the spectrum. One party declared that God was ultimatley Good so why would he 'send' people to Hell. The other party was setting up the argument just simply asked this question....

"Well does man kind deserved to be saved?"

Many of us have this internal thought that Humanity has been skidded through these rough and tumble times because of God, while others believe that we have been skidded through these times because of our indignant self proclamations. We believe that we are God and so as Christians when we approach this subject we go to one extreme or the other.

We either become inclusivists or exclusivists. Many of us either try to demonstrate God primarily with the characteristics from the Old Testament. We go for the Holiness attributes rather than the relational attributes. However, this cannot be the only way that we look at God when concerning this this issued. When we look into the New Testament this subject of the after life has been skewed to fit a certian agenda by certain extreme groups(sounds quite similar to most of our Christian history).

When Jesus comes onto the scene the question again presents itself.

Does man kind deserve to be saved?

Christ enters as the superhero. An underdog individual that clearly has the stamina of a great human leader but has the divine qualities of a servant. He intellectually can step over the akwardness that is tied to the academic world and can use it with every individual He meets. He has the relational capacity to prioritize needs and can touch the reality of the human soul.

Jesus comes and saves the world.

The question still remains however,

Does Man kind deserve to be saved?

Unceasing, Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart

"Some of the old monksof this sect went to see Abba Lucius. "The old man asked them, 'What is your manual work?' They said, 'We do not touch manual work but as the Apostle says, we pray without ceasing.' The old man asked them if they did not eat and they replied they did. So he said to them, 'When you are eating who prays for you then?'

Again he asked them if they did not sleep and they replied they did. And he said to them, 'When you are asleep, who prays for you then?'

They could not find any answer to give him. He said to them, 'Forgive me, but you do not act as you speak. I will show you how, while doing my manual work, I pray without interruption. I sit down with God, soaking my reeds and plaiting my ropes, and say, "God, have mercy on me; according to your great goodness and according to the multitude of your mercies, save me from my sins."'

So he asked them if this were not prayer and they replied it was. They he said to them, 'So when I have spent the whole day working and praying, making thirteen pieces of money more or less, I put two pieces of money outside my door and I pay for my food with the rest of the money. He who takes the two pieces of money prays for me when I am eating and when I am sleeping; so, by the grace of God, I fulfill the precept to pray without ceasing."'

This story offers a very practical answer to the question "How can I pray without ceasing while I am busy with many other things?" The answer involves the neighbor."

www.toothpastefordinner.com

"The Furnace of Transformation"

"In solitude I get rid of my scaffolding; no friends to talk with, no telephone calls to make, no meetings to attend, no music to entertain, no books to distract, just me--naked, vulnerable, weak, sinful, deprived, broken-nothing.

It is this nothingness that I have to face in my solitude, a nothingness so dreadful that everything in me wants to run to my friends, my work, and my distractions so that I can forget my nothingness and make myself believe that I am worth something.

But that is not all. As soon as I decide to stay in my solitude, confusing ideas, disturbing images, wild fantasies and weird associations jump about in my mind like monkeys in a banana tree. Anger and greed begin to show their ugly faces. I give long, hostile speeches to my enemies and dream lustful dreams in which I am wealthy, influential, and very attractive-or poor, ugly, and in need of immediate consolation. Thus I try again to run from the dark abyss of my nothingness and restore my false self in all it's vain glory." pg.27-28 The Way of the Heart, Henri J.M. Nouwen

The Boxing Ring

I have watched and own all of the Rocky movies, except for the new one. I have admired boxing and have always been a fan of it.

However, I wasn't aware of the strength that boxing took until I got into the ring myself. I had been taught how to fight at a very young age from my brother who beat me up and in his spare time taught me how to defend myself.

But street fighting is completley different than boxing. I stepped in the ring at age seventeen.

I had my boxing gloves on and was dapered out in red and gray basket ball shorts and a red tank top. My hair was pulled back and as I stepped into the ring my bangs flowed in my face. This boxing match was to the death, just how it was made to be in the beginning. It was an old fight reinvented into a new style. My opponent was a tall dark figure who didn't have a face but who was and unpredictable fighter. Watching the tapes of his old fights taught me nothing about his style other than that he had developed and crafted, inside and outside fighting. My opponent had a clear control of the fight but could do it as an inside fighter with a fast and close interaction. Though there were times when my opponent would become a brawler and lose all care for the rules just to beat His opponent. He was brutal and had a tendency to kill.

I had not yet really defined my skill yet in the ring and I had not really understand the game until I had my first fight. My style would soon become a combination of all and would be called 'hybrid' boxing. My style changed over time and became more and more defined as something undefined.

The atmosphere was somber and a tension was a familer taste that salavated in my sweat. There was one light in the room and that was a lamp that hung right above the ring. All you could see was the ring and even that was dimmed by the darkness that my opponent brought.

There was no one in His corner. He was completley on His own. I had my friend Joseph who had been with me from the beginning. You could say he was a divine intervention when it came to my fighting. He had the wisdom and intelligence of a seasoned fighter and was willing and ready to help me out in whatever way He could. He also was a dear friend who stuck with me through every up and down. The room was silent and every moment that had brought me to this fight flashed across my eyes. While I knew I probably wouldn't last this fight I had a sudden sense of peace and comfort about it. I knew that I was unequipped and that I was young...probably too young to be in the ring with Him, but my time had come.

The bell finally rang and we started to dance. He started on the inside- jab-jab-cross-jab. I slipped past all of the jabs and blocked against the cross punch. As I defended myself I realized that all of my senses were in hyper sensitive mode so everything I smelled, saw, tasted, and felt was ten times more vibrant.

He was so close I could smell him. He smelled like decaying flesh. Something that was so vile I wanted to cover my nose. When he got close I could see that He did have a face and I realized why you couldn't see it. It was covered by a black vinyl mask that covered everything. He was entangled under His mask. His flesh, if I can even call it that, was mangled and destroyed and His eyes were sunken in and dark.

I had gotten so caught up in his appearance and his smell that I had forgotten to block, and I suddenly felt it. I had gotten hit by a semi-truck at full speed. I stumbled back and fell to the ground while blood sputtered from my nose.

I looked down at my clothes while it poured out...'good thing I wore red today.'

I quickly got to my feet and remained calm. Early in my fighting days I would have been in a rage and let that get to me but I learned how to control my feelings.

We danced around again and as he came in to attack I started brawling. Just going pulling out long punches and long hooks It suprised Him and it seem like he was confused. He backed off but I wouldn't let him out of my sights. Then it happened.

One long punch and He was down. He stayed down there and then slowly got up. It was all just an act though and then suddenly it happened. I don't know if it was me or if He actually grew three more inches both in height and in width.

"Round One!" The announcer who was unseen yelled out and I walked to my corner discouraged and lost in this fight for my life.

The little town beneath my bed?

I often get out of the bed in the middle of the night due to my small and weak bladder. Usually I get up and turn on the light(because I get frightful in the middle of the night of things that bump around). So I turn on the light and get out of bed in a quick fashion, I head across the hall and use the facilities.

This happens quite often. Well this last night I had gotten up around four o'clock in the morning to go to the bano. When I crawled back into bed I heard a strange scraping sound like someone was moving a bed around. I also heard a women sing in an opera voice at a very high pitch.

So I have come to the conclusion that there is a small village living under my bed. A village of many people, and I think that they were having a small get together. I think that the men's voices sound like furniture movie and the women's voices sound very operetic.

They must have been having a great time because they were making quite a commotion. I hope they enjoy living under my bed. I will try and make contact and will blog about it later.

Christmas Shopping

1 pair of spends shorts...Thirty dollars
2 tubes of jelly incinerated beans...2,000 dollars
3 cheesey Christmas movies...56 dollars
4 cranky people that cut you off....10x the stress
5 episodes of the real world while wrapping presents...5,000 brain cells
6 cookies...10 grams of fat
7 extended family hugs...Awkward and fun
8 Christmas strands of lights to put up...Laborious
9 penguins dancing...Mind boggling
10 phone calls...One large phone bill
11 flu shots...And then the flu
12 days until I can give my presents...Anticipation

The Story of Jesus...Priceless...And not mentioned.

"Use your words"

Every time my neice starts to throw a tauntrum or whine about something we always tell her to use her words. Words are valuable and vital and important. Words change lives.

So I'm going to use my words, because maybe if I right it out I will feel better. Or at least I will stop telling everyone 'I'm good.'

I'm having a bad day.

First- I don't understand how a community who holds community up so highly can go along their daily business like nothing has happened. Meetings here, coffee there. Like it just happens all the time. Now granted most of this community doesn't know the old community but there are still some. It's irritating to be in a place that does not grasp the gravity of death, or at least doesn't represent it well.

Second- I'm still in the angry mourning phase. I'm really angry, angry enough to hit someone. The first question to come to mind is Why? After everything has happend and after all the life that he lived why now and why in this way?

I'm trying to use my words but the burning anger won't be captured in the uselessness of them.

Well it has come again and will continue to come and I will get angrier and angrier every time it happens.

In this moment, I'm not good, I'm not happy, I'm angry and a little sad. I know the true sadness will come much later.

But first I am angry.

"Use your words

Sadness has sunk in.

I HATE DEATH>

I still have no capacity for it even though I have expereinced it numerous times.

New Post

The King

I have always been a comic book and super hero junkie. I love learning about superhero's and really delving into their story. A couple of years ago I actually stumbled into a pretty unique story, and found one of the most powerful superhero's ever created.

This story is set in an Ancient city in Mesopotamia. It revolves around a man, named Joshua, who was born to rule. However, he was stripped of his title and his land and he was exiled. He become a lowly servant in the new town he moved to and was never much of a popular character. He was oddly different growing up and stayed close to his family.

He discovered his super powers around the age of twelve, but they didn't come into full capacity until he was about thirty which is when he became a full-fledged superhero. He was very kind and through his great influence created a following. While he was being followed and making an impact through his human side he was also making a large influence and saving people from dire life circumstances through his super human identity. Joshua's psudeo-name became the "King". He traveled all around Mesopotamia and became a house name among the outcasts and also among those in power.

The King could do a plethora of different things with his power. He could heal people, not only through touching them, but by just saying the words. He could control natural elements and could control the weather. He could read minds, and he could predict the future as well as look into your past. He could disappear in a moment and appear somewhere else. He could clone things, as well, through his control of nature. He had a great amount of power. I'm telling you he is one of the greatest super hero's I have ever read about.

With any good superhero story the King had an arch nemisis-actually he had a group of them. Because the King was gaining so much influential power the men who ruled in the towns where the King prasided where getting quite flustered. So they did what only corrupt men in power do, they framed him.

See every Superhero has a weakness. With superman it was kryptonite. With Batman it was poverty. With X-men it was their other mutant brothers and sisters.

Well the King's greatest weakness was the people he came to save. One day, one of the King's followers decided that he was sick of the lifestyle of selflisness and he sold the King out. These powerful men then caught the King and framed him. They put him through different trials just to humiliate him. Most of the King's followers scattered but there were a few who stood around to see if he would use his powers to get out of this scandleous situation.

The King went through every trial and went through every humilation that was presented to him. These powerful men then took the King and brutally murdered him on a hill outside the city called the Skull. Now every super hero finds himself in a dire situation and is on the edge of total destruction. They usally get out of it though.

The King just died. He just gave up.

When I read it I couldn't believe it. This man who was so influential just gave up. This man who had a super side of him didn't even try to escape the death that was so certian.

I soon found out that the King's greatest weakness was also his greatest strength.

A couple days went by and suddenley people started seeing the King. He started appearing to his closest followers and then just appeared to people on the street.

The King told his followers that he could not stay on the earth any longer but he told them that his Spirit would be with them. The King's followers didn't understand him until they started healing people, and until they started saving people as well.

This comic book hero is not fiction. He is real. He lived 2000 years ago and truly had super-human power, but he didn't let that power control him or determine his decisions. He followed God's redemptive plan and was stripped of his power and glory and he died a brutal death because he wanted to save the people that he loved.

He still wants to save us.

I'm living my dream.

The Will of God is/isn't safe....?

"Who said the will of God was ever safe?" E. McManus

"The will of God is the only safe place you will find in the overlap" W. Shaw

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." Lion the Which and the Wardrobe, Clive Staples Lewis

I have been recently involved in the will of God and these quotes seemed to have pulled some strings throughout my being.

God is not safe, because in our mind saftey is a precaution to danger. We become "safe" because of fear. We fear that we are going to fly out of our sit and through our windshield, so we wear our seatbelt.

We fear that someone is going to break into our house so we put locks on our doors and windows.

We fear that someone is going to rob us blind so we fear our neighbors and friends.

We are called to fear God. Why? Well I have been told two different responses growing up. The first is that God is powerful and can destroy your entire being in less than time itself allows. Since in our minds souls don't die we don't seem to comprehend that God could make a sudden movement and abliterate our souls forever. The western world has commonly thought of Heaven and Hell being the only two options. Well I would have to tend to disagree. God can destroy you in such a fashion that "nothingness" cotians more matter than you.

Second response to fearing God is actually being in Awe of Him because of His power. Which I guess could go along with the first response but I feel the reaction is differnt. When I fear God because I am afraid he is going to do something I react in a worldy human fear, but when I fear God because I understand the power and can see that power being lived out in my life I react in worshipful way. Awe in God literally scares the Hell out of me and allows me to react in a way that glorifies God.

God is not safe. When did the Gospel become tolerant and comforable. "Take up your cross....the dead can bury themselves, a fox has it's hole and a bird it's nest but the son of man has no place to lay his head..." Jesus never said the will of God is safe but he also lived out his life in ultimate and unfailing trust, which adheres to the saftey of God.

The will of God was never intended to be safe but it was always intended to be lived out, that is probably why it is not a safe place to meander about.

Independence Day Going Down in Flames

Most of us are introduced to the concept of Love when we are born and are fed and played with and shown affection. I don’t understand how this love that we are introduced to in the beginning slowly forms and flows through our veins. We hang onto this concept of love because if we don’t we die.

It’s extreme but if you seriously sit down and think about it you will soon realize that a life without love slowly and surely dies. And not only would you die but the culture that we live in would die as well. We are in a culture of wanting to be independent yet we yearn for a love that NO ONE can deny. This idea of independence that we hear from our parents, from our schools and from our relationships, only leads to one thing...death.

You cannot be independent. The reality simply does not exist. Here’s why. You depend on a job to provide you money in which you depend on your boss to give you hours to work. You depend on the sheet that says you have hours and you depend on getting paid every other Friday. You rent a house/apartment. People are depending on you to pay the rent. Any simple transaction is a cause of dependence. You are depending on a good or service to be delivered and they are depending on you for the money of the delivery or service.

Every person in the world is depending on something or someone. If you decide to go out in the wilderness and not commune with one person you still depend on the soil for your fruit. You depend on the wild game around you to provide you the sustenance that you need.

You have no independence in this world whatsoever.

You are incapable of making a small decision by yourself. Let’s say you are going to college. You are influenced by your parents, by your peers, by your belief system. Your background and your moral standing have decided things for you. If you take the argument of not having a moral standing you now depend on the idea that you have no moral standing and that makes your decisions for you.

You have no independence in your thinking.

North America has created an illusion. They have told you that you can make your own decisions. They have lied to you and allowed you to buy into a product. Individualism is a product that America sells quite well. "You don’t need anyone", "Just do it",
The drive to attain independence through a constant self-centered striving is obscenely ironic. As we strive-as we climb that cliched, metaphorical ladder, we rely on the rungs to propel us forward.

Step one, we are reliant on air to fill our lungs and gravity to hold us down.

Step two, we rely on food to grow and the store to sell that food and the government to keep making money so we can buy the food.

Step three, we rely on our parents or someone to care for us and teach us how the world works.

Step four we rely on someone to give us a chance in the world
that we are so apt to become independent from.

Step five we depend on our environments to create where we will go next and what steps we need to take to achieve our ultimate goals.

Step six we find someone or something to take care of our emotional and physical needs and we become inherently attached to him/her or it.

Step seven we work until we are ready or until someone else thinks we are ready to retire and we depend on our pension to provide for us until we die.

Step eight our environment finally destroys our physical being and we reach the end of deteriation.

Step nine we depend on our children, close relatives, close friends, or co-workers to bury us and to honor the short and mundane lives we have lived. Whether it be a slow and corrosive disease, a night time escape, or a tragic ending we all die. All the things we work for are remembered for a while and then they die along with our name.

So what is the answer, and why is love the ribbon that ties everything together?

"Revolution"

"We are throwing rocks at the bride of Crist and calling it a Revolution" B. Mills

This statement seems to continually reign true in my life as I look at what is happening to the church in North America. I have encountered so many books on this spiritual journey from authors that span from Brian McClaren to Donald Miller to Tony Campolo and Shane Claiborne(sorry Kel). While these authors have good things to say I think that they are missing something.

We apparantly are having a revolution in our church in North America. Something is shifting and we think that if we start something brand new than the world will look at Christians in a different way. "They will finally see Christ!"

We tend to think that relationships are the key. If we just show them Christ and have dialouge with them then they will eventually find God. Here me know. The tolerance that we are showing is not acceptable. We are allowing sin into the church in America and it is unaccebtable.

Why are we so afraid to be different? God has called us to be different yet it seems like this is an outlandish thing. If we are different they will know we follow Jesus. SO WHAT?

Why are we throwing around the significance and holiness of God to have such 'experiences.' In the book of Leviticus God's holiness is taken seriously. Sin is taken seriously.

Sin has no power on us! Why are we so ashamed to live free in Christ and proclaim his name wherever we go?

Has this "revolution" taken over the importance of the church? Have we walked away from the problems of the church because it's easier to start something new, rather than trusing God to redeem the problem itself.

Have we lost the Doctrine? Are our opinions replacing the Doctrine of the church?

Have we blurred the "line" between the world and God that we have forgotten who we are?

Have we thrown mud at Christ's bride to feed our own satisfaction?

Have we become cowards in terms of proclaiming the Gospel?

Are we ashame to be called JEsus FrEaks, because that causes people to suggest that we actually follow Jesus and read the Bible?

Are we reading the Bible?

Why are churches using the term Christian no more? Can another name change the world sees us?

Isn't the Gospel supposed to offensive? If it's not than I'm not really living for anything "revolutionary"

I am not at all saying that I am not part of this myself, but I am trying to figure these things out.

Dance

You know the way the dance makes you feel.

The first couple of steps are nervous and akward, but then the movement comes ever so slowly. The music seems to seep through your viens as you move back and forth with your masked partner.

As you once moved on your own, you now move together in a state of utter transcendance. It feels like you were born to be in this state of mind. As the music gets faster the movement gets faster, and the dancing becomes a fantastic blur to the audience in which the dance is being performed for.

But, it is much for than a performance for the dancers. It is breath. In and out. Every step that slides across the floor the breathing gets easier and more melodic. The heart beats to a steady and firm idea, pumping and tracing the music throughout the essence of the dancers.

You know the way that the dance makes you feel.

When the embarrassment of the dance has passed, the faces seem to interact in an intimate way. They seem to lock eyes as they dance across and around the room. They never look down to see if they are in step because it no longer matters.

The dance transforms the two and they walk away from it very differently. The music seems to end and breathing only comes easier when the dance has resumed. Regular life seems asthmatic, and mundane.

The dance is never easy, and is never safe, but it's always good.

Awe

To be in Awe of God, is to have God literally scare the Hell out of you.

Lights

Ever see things and are brought back to a memory from your childhood in a flash.

It happened tonight when I went to Bloomington to see a movie. We were heading back from Bloomington and I started counting the street lights.

I was ten again and coming home from my Grandma's. I was lying on my back in the back seat of our white mini-van. My head was on the plastic siding and had started aching and the forty-five to fifty minute drive seemed like forever at nine at night, especially after a large meal.

My parents didn't like to listen to music, probably because they thought we would fall asleep, I never did. The rumbling of the car and the yellow lines on the road seemed to flow into one as i lied in the back. I pressed my face on the window because the heat in the car was overbearing.

And I started counting the street lights. 1,2,3,4.....34,35,36.....67,68,69.....

They seemed to never end, and we were moving at a speed where it was a competition to see if I could count every single one that I could see. If I lost count I had to start over.

Then another memory came flashing back and I remember the first time I saw Chicago at night on an airplane. Which in all reality isn't as spectacular as it might sound but I will never forget it. Those lights that seemed to never end. I tried to count them but it was nearly impossible.

The flight attendent came over the intercome and stated that we were ten miles out of our destination and we would be coming into the city limits very shortly. I remember first seeing the lights as the clouds seemed to part. Suddenly there was a massive amount of small lights that were only about a centimeter apart, and as we slowly descended the lights seemed to get larger.

Simple and insignificant lights seem to mark every part of my life.

Black and White dinner!

Blake and I dancing, so cute!











Me and the girls before the party!



Twylla and I sharing a moment.

Rob thinking that I'm Oprah?















Hey, I look good in red.


So my floor put together a formal black and white dinner for our brother floor. It was Awesome. It actually ended up being a dance party. It was sooo....much fun. Here are some pics from it. Oh, bye the way I actually wore a red dress, I just felt like it was an appropriate thing to do.

The Father's song, Matt Redman

I have heard so many songs
Listened to a thousand tongs
but there is one that sounds above them all
The Father's song the Father's love
you sung it over me and for
eternity its written on my heart

Heaven's perfect melody
the creators symphony
you are singing over me
the Father's song

Heaven's perfect mystery
the king of love has sent for me
and now your singing over me
the Father's song

I have heard so many songs
Listened to a thousand tongs
but there is one that sounds above them all

The Father's song the FAthers love
You sung it over me and for
eternity its written on my heart

Heaven's perfect melody
The creators symphony
You are singing over me
The Father's song

Heaven's mystery
The king of love has sent for me
Now your singing over me
The Father's song

the Father's song
The Father's love
you sung it over me and for
eternity it's written on my heart.

It's written on my heart
You sing it over me
Father,

The Shadows

I find myself in the shadows. Lurking around like a huntched back creature and wondering wether the light will ever expose itself.

The shadows seem to create discomfort in my sould but not enough to urge me to leave the darkness. I have the option to get out, but I just choose to continue to lurk. My back hurts and my senses are numb. I try to eat but the joy of taste has escaped my mouth. My eyes have been weakened because I know longer see the life behind the living. My hearing has faded, because it has been so long since I have heard the laughter of the healthy.

The buildings just seem to get bigger. They have overtaken the trees that dance. They have overtaken the natural land where we used to grow old and be merry. I lurk in the shadows of these giants.

I have walked and have no where to go so I will just sit. I will sit and wait. Wait for the abnormality of death to come and visit my sitting place. I sit and wait for the something that will save me from the shadows. I wait here for my death because I am a living corpse, walking around. I am a presence among the living but I can not figure out this life out.

I am called to live a life that represents the Life but I seem to walk around like the corpse that ends it all. The giants have swallowed my hope and have taken my "revolution" away. The dance that was once introduced to me has become a tiresome run from the hands that try and pull me down. The secret agenda's and the pull of the empty hole that has swallowed the growth of my trees.

I just want to see, To hear, To taste, To touch, To know, that as I sit here in my shadows that there is a light.

Mars Hill

When we were in the car K-dog pointed it out. It was a strip mall, nothing to fancy, but there was an excitment in the look of it. We ended up waiting in a line of cars to turn into the parking lot and as we walked up I saw two different signs. One for the YMCA and one for Party Zone.

The mini-mall signs were still up. We approached the door and it had church name and the service times displayed. It was the first sign I had seen in my first encounter with this body of Christ. We walked in and there was an older lady shaking hands and welcoming people. There was an awe in the atmosphere. There were hundreds of people milling around.

We walked in the "sanctuary" and there was a stage in the middle of the room. K-dog grabbed a piece of paper and a bible that was on mental cabinet on the wall. We sat down and the worship band got up on stage. They started playing hymns.

After the worship set Rob Bell got up and sat down in the middle of the stage on a cool swivel chair. He did some announcements and then he told us to open our Bible's to Luke chapter 10.

And then it happened.

The flipping of at least one thousand Bibles. It was a beautiful sound.

Rob Bell, isn't anything special. He walked his community through the contextual and historical meaning behind the text. It was nothing new. Rob Bell was communicating God's truth. That's it.

I walked out of the church confused. What just happened? Was that church?

The reason I say that is not because it was bad. It wasn't bad. The music was good the "message" was good. But it wasn't anything new. Here's what happened. Rob Bell listened to God. Not only did he listen to God he decided to follow him as well. He is an ordinary man doing extrodinary things. He decided to take the idea of faith and go on a walk with God.

He understands that and so does his community. They are the most outrageously giving community in the nation, and guess what? They don't take offereing during service!

They have joy boxes at every door, so as you exit the sanctuary you just drop off what you want. They not only just give to the church, but the church gives to everyone as a whole. They don't waste money on frivilous things but make an impact in their culture by using thier money in an eternal way.

Mars Hill is a body of believers who understand what the covenant is really about and are willing to risk their lives in God's redemption.

Weekend in Holland....the town not the country.

Fall break came and so I decided to take a trip up to Naperville, which normally takes two hours but on Friday it took four. Then I decided to take a train to Chicago which was ten minutes late. Then I decided to take another train to Holland which was an hour and a half delayed. All in all my thirteen trip to Michigan could have really been a thirteen hour trip to England. Or the real country of Holland.

So I got off the train and I saw my beautiful Best friend. The reason I went to Holland was to see K-dog. My partner in Crime, my thelma, my adventurer, my coheart in the faith. I also saw K-Holm. It was good to see some old highschool friends as well.

We went to denny's and had a grand ole' time. After this feast we went and I learned how to play a new game of Buk Buk. It's fascinating, I will have to tell you how it works some day.

I slept on K-dog's fouton. The left side is immensly more comfortable than the right side. We ventured into some coffee shops. We also went an saw the new movie The Prestige which was a trick. It kind of reminded me of Achilles and Hector from the Illiad.

Oh and I almost forgot, I went to a college football game...fun huh? We actually saw the real drum line in action.

Then we went to Mars Hill which I think I will post a different blog about because I am quite puzzled on what is going on there. It was an interesting experience if I have ever had one.

Alas the weekend in Holland had to come to an end. So I waited thirty minutes more for my late train back to Chicago and then took a train back to Naperville. I'm sure half of you got a phone call from me asking you to pick me up. It worked itself out though. When I got off the train there was this creepy looking man that I hitched a ride from. Half way to my house he offered me this bag of white substance and a chunk of money, so I decided to let him drop me off a couple of blocks from where I live. All in all he seemed like a nice guy.

Well the adventure of Holland had to come to and end, I'm just glad it happened the way it did.

I don't like being stood up.

Like a beautiful tree....

Oh, how I know the depths of your own heart. Like a beautiful tree planted in the middle of a field. A place to come to as a child and be in awe of your greatness. A place of saftey yet of risk while I climb and explore the life of your branches. A growth of fruit beckens my appetite and I get lost in your majestic height.

Oh, how I know the depths of your own heart. Like a beautiful tree that stands proud and strong during the storms and during the spring breeze. A place I can come to when I am involved with a beautiful love. Somewhere where I can carve my initials in a heart. And a place where my lover and I can come and lazyily spend hours under your shade during the summer heat.

Oh, how I know the depths of your own heart. Like a beautiful tree that provides all of my needs when I become older and need a place to reside. I selfishly take advantage of your branches and your tallness to put a roof over my family. That you would give up your body so that I may live in a safe place of being.

Oh, how I know the depths of your own heart. Like a beautiful tree that yearns to be desired and knows that when I am old enough will have no used for swinging branches or carved intials. But will provide me a place to just be. A place where I can sit my old shriveled body on it's trunk and be able to be in the presence of the great provider.

Oh, how I know the depths of your own heart. Like a beautiful tree that is willing to sacrifice its whole being to provide for it's great love.

"Christ sheild me this day:

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every person who thinks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me."

The Breastplate of St. Patrick

The man's hero

Hector and Achilles fight each other in the Iliad, written by Homer.

Hector was the good and compassionate family man. He went into the war fighting for a cause. He believed in it.

Achilles was a enranged psuedo-phsychotic. He tried walking away but the death of his best friend brought him back into the war. He was cruel and found no value in the human. His soul was darkened by each man he killed. He hated the war but was to good to walk away again.

At the end of the of the Iliad Achilles kills Hector.

He then tries to tie Hector's body to the back of his chariot and has an encounter with Hector's father. Hector's father connects with him and they both mourn for all of the loss that has occured in both their lives.

Both Achilles and Hector are the heros. Hector is the good guy and Achilles is the bad guy but both their characteristics represent a hero. Hero's arn't perfect and they have their dark sides. Usually those dark sides win.

A Stark Realization.

Sitting in the warehouse reading A Greif Observed and came to this sudden realization, that actually has been stewing for a while,

C.S. Lewis writes it well:

"Not that I am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not 'sSo there's no God after all,' but 'So this is what God's really like. Decieve yourself no longer."

This is the idea that I have been struggling with since I learned that God commanded Joshua to commit genocide to the people in the promiseland.

For me the questions and the answers don't add up. While I ask a question that addresses why God took the lives of so many people in the Old and in the New Testament or I ask a question about the children in Africa that are dying of Aids, or are dying of starvation and I get the answers of the many Christians saying 'We can't really understand why God does the things that He does,' or 'You shouldn't question God's ultimate plan.' This one is my favorite 'God's idea of fairness and His idea of justice is not the same as ours.'

While these answers are accurate and have some truth to them these answers are not directly answering my questions. These answers actually are giving an ambigious cover to the fact that they don't really know the answers, but they feel like they have to defend God.

REALITY CHECK- God is the one that I am asking about and his actions, don't defend Him because if he wants to defend himself he will explain these answers. He will defend himself. Don't be unitelligent and give me falsified answers because your representation of your client couldn't be more wrong.

I am quite aware that God exists, the thing in question is God's character. Many would assume that if I didn't believe in God I could not blame God for the injustices in the world. They would be right. What meter could I hold up if I did not have a moral ideal to follow. It's not the belief that is aquired about because God exists. It is God's character that is being aquired about.

The things that should only be known by the mind of God are the things that I so long for. The explanations of the understatements of life are what I desire for. I'm sick of asking deep end questions and getting kiddy pool answers.

Frustration of the Day.

My soul yearns for you, my Lord. That I may be taken away from this world.


So we had a great time in Homiletics today. We had seven people give their sermons tonight and each one did a great job. At the end of class my professor stood up and talked about the eight people going next week.

"You each need to allot your time to ten minutes"

Everything that I have worked on in the last two weeks now has to be chucked. The sermon that I had confidence in and was exited about cannot possibly be fit into ten minutes.

So I'm starting over. I can only tell one story in ten minutes. I hope God makes that story clearly in the next seven days because if not I will not be doing well next tuesday night.



Jesus come back, as soon as you can, just so I may escape these worries that stretch and torment my soul.

The looming presence of Death

Oct. 2
"My Senior year is when my dad and I started a real solid relationship. God has really done some amazaing things through it and has taught me a lot." Me

"It's really interesting because you started having a relationship with your Dad when you were a Senior and that's when my Dad died." Friend

"....I give you permission to be angry with God." Me



"It's ninety degrees on Oct. 3, you know what that means, the world is ending. Which I'm okay with. If Jesus came back today I would welcome him with open arms." Me

Silence

"I was scared to die yesterday....it may sound weird but..." Friend

"No, it doesn't sound weird we have talked about this before, remember?" Me

"Yea, I was just sitting there and thinking about it and I felt the fear...." Friend

"Meanwhile where is God? this is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense in needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be-or so it feels- welcomed with open arms. But go to him when your need is desparate, when all other help is in vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that silence." A Greif Observed

New Book Idea

So I have been thinking about this new book idea. I know I have to finish my first two before I get on to a third. But here me out. Tell me what you think.

At graduation every Christian graduate gets a book about going to college, and what it takes to stay a Christian in College. I actually got a book that was titled "How to stay a Christian in College" I laughed when I got it because in my mind I was going to the Christian utopia of all colleges. I didn't need to worry about whether I was going to stay a Christian simply because I was going to Bible college.

Then I got here.

So now I want to write a book about staying a Christian in Bible College. It's a lot harder than you think.

I think I will title it
"How I survived Bible College" or

"How to stay a Christian going into ministry" or

"How to stay a Christian in Bible college"

Well that's all. Tell me what you think.

Written for my Roommate

Dear Morgan,

In our recent discussion we have been conversing about the duality of thoughts. Your last journal post spurred this discussion and has turned the clockwork in my brain. I was sitting this summer listening to Bano speak about the duality of art and faith. The idea that we are trying to live this life that is messy and hard. We are searching for the truth.

Through this search we find ourselves on different levels of thought. Specifically about the world in which we live in, and the way that world sees us. This creates a plethora of emotional stigma which then leads to the incomprehensible and destructable thoughts that float through our atmosphere. We then breath in those thoughts and breath out every insecurity and flaw that we feel as mere mortals.

Sitting in my own disgust I then realize and wholly understand the action of these thoughts that are self absorbed. These thoughts seap through my pores and fill them in, becoming black foaming entities. Not only do they create oil filled pimples but the stink from those thoughts come off of my body. This could be compared to sitting on the train next to a man who has had to much to drink, and knowing that, not because of his breath alone, but because of the stentch that exudes from his body. I then carry around with me a mindset of muck because of my search for the truth.

This mindset becomes transformed over time when I come into the comfortable presence of the one who loves me. I then start to look over those old thoughts and create new ones, because of the great transformer. While I still see the remnants of those old thoughts I have air to breath that is sweeter. My face clears up and my stentch becomes and aroma, more like a women on a train who has the authority and genuaility of a proper lady.

However, the process of transformation should not be worried upon, but be praised, because the grace of God becomes clearer through the mistakes we make. We are mortal beings, with clear glass souls that are cracked upon contact, but when God comes in the picture that glass becomes filled. If the glass casing is broken than God is spilled out unto the viens, and this God consumes the entity of the body.

To all the doubters of my roommate's journey, I say to you, praise the process of transformation, because if you miss it, you miss the consumation of God.

To the best roommate of all time,

alison

The Lord Appears to Elijah.

"And the word fo the Lord came to him: "What are you doing here, Elijah?"

He replied, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the onlly one left, and now they are trying to kill me too."

The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by."

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"

He replied, "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too."

The Lord said to him, "Go back the way you came, and go to the Desert of Damascus. when you get there, annoint Hazael king over aram. Also annoint Jehu son of Nimshi king over Israel, and annoint Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah to succeed you as prophet. Jehu will put to death any who escape the sword of Hazael, and Elisha will put to death any who escape the sword of Jehu. Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel-all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal and all whose mouths have not kissed him."

the first conversation

Dr. Mangano brought up some interesting points in class yesterday. We were talking about the fall and he asked this question;

"Why did the serpent go to Eve?"

Here are some noted answers from the class:
1. She was collecting food for Adam and the serpent came at her then.
2. Eve didn't have the mental capacity of Adam.
3. The serpent was second to God and the women was second to man so the serpent knew they could relate.
4. The serpent wouldn't be able to pursuade Adam because he was the ruler of creation.
5. The serpent knew that Eve could be more pursuasive so he went after her first.

There were two trees in the Garden. The tree of life, which produced food for Adam and Eve. This tree sustained Adam and Eve because they were not immoral or eternal. The other tree in existence was the tree of knowledge of good and evil. God told Adam that he could not eat of the tree of knowledge or he will surely die along with Eve. While we were batting around ideas my prof brought into the picture the basic components of the fall. The idea that because Adam didn't love his wife the way Christ loved the church he sinned first.

Adam was passive, which was the first sin comminted in the garden.

Eve was decieved by the serpent and broke God's commandment, which was the second sin committed in the garden.

Adam ate the fruit of the tree of knowlege, which was the third sin commited in the garden.

When God came calling he found Adam and Eve hiding in the bush and cursed them. They didn't die physically, but they became mediums. Corpses, no longer living, but not dead.

Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden because God didn't want them living in their own Hell. He wanted to cut them off from the tree of Life so that they could not live in their state of wickedness for all times. He offered them Grace, rather than eternal deprevation.

While they headead out from the Garden they couldn't taste things, feel things, understand things through the eyes of goodness.

I know that when the church returns to that state we will be able to wear the white dress for our union with Christ.

Worship

"Soren Kierkegard compared worship to a theatre in a way that is particularly apt for the sacrificial rituals of Israel, especially when we grasp the point he was making. Theatres are places where dramas are performed by actors in front of an audience. In the worship of Israel the worshippers were the players, not the audience, and they were assigned an active role. It was God who was the audience, and whose benefit the drama was presented, and God who was to be satisfied. For that reason, the rituals were carefully prescribed and observed. How different from much present-day worship that turns the congregation into an audience of passive onlookers whose feelings need massaging and whose every taste and whim need satisfying! It is a foolish reversal of roles that places God on the stage as an actor who is required to entertain his people."

The Message of Leviticus, Tidball.

The Last Night

All summer Student Community prepared for their junior high camp. There theme was Day One.

Brillant. It was a great theme and was extremley well put together. It was probably one of the best themes that I have ever read and participated in.

The idea behind it is that today is Day one. Day one in encountering Christ, day one in understanding His love and grace, and day one in living the life that we as Christians are called to live, separatly and in a community.

I was sitting in a mentored ministry meeting and my advisor, Dr. J.K. Jones, asked us to turn to John 13. It is the story of Jesus washing his disciples feet. I have heard this story many times and have even experienced this kind of servanthood at highschool retreats, but J.K. came at this story from a different angle.

Jesus saw a need, and he met it. It was an extrodinary act that made ripples on His community, but in the moment it was a need that was met. On Christ's last night as a free person he met the needs of his closest friends, spirtually, emotionally, and physically. The community that he was leading wouldn't understand this kind of act until they understood the journey of Christ himself, but that was yet to come in the early church.

What will you do with your last night? J.K. Jones asked this question, and it stuck to me like jelly. I was so concerned with the beginnings of Christianity this summer that I suddenly forgot the urgency of the end.

So, what will you do with your last night?

Men and Women in the Church, Sarah Sumner

"I have been told that Christian women in Korea feel devastated socially if they turn thirty before marriage. Evidently they feel challenged, even in the church, to find their role. As I see it, the issue of their role is not the problem.

The problem, rather, lies in everyone around them who feels at a loss to knwo how to relate to them as single Christian women. My single female friends in the United States, expecially those over the age of forty who have never been married, constantly describe the same ordeal. Tehy feel many Christians do not know how to relate to them comfortably. Instead, people want to know "how they're coping" with their singleness and lack of motherhood.

In other words, they want to know how they're coping with there conventional rolelessness."

High matience Homeless

K-Shea and I went down to the city yesterday, to hang out and just enjoy each other's company. It was a blast. We ended up on the magnificant mile. It's amazing the different kind of people that are around that area. The mile has changed quite a bit since I have been there last. I tend to go into the city quite often but I'm never on Michigan Avenue(unless I'm seeing my sister at work).

Usually I'm in uptown.(Usually hanging out with my sister)

But there were crazy street performes one whom resembled Jonny Depp from the Secret Window. He was a vantriliquist and was pretty good. We also ventured into the world of human statues, who charged a dollar per picture, and we saw a puppet show on the street. When I encounterd the puppet show I was in a state of shock. Not often do you see such things.

So K-Shea and I enjoyed and gallavanted down this mile of merchandise, but we suddenley felt the urge for some substanance so we went to Giordono's. In the pizza arena Giordono's is high up in having the best deep dish pizza ever. We had fellowship and talked of many things while scarfing down a small deep dish sausage and mushroom pizza.

We ened up having two pieces of pizza left, so we figured if we saw someone on the stree that looks hungry or that was holding a sign that says "I need food, starving, Hungry!" we would just give our pizza to them.

We started south on the magnificant mile after dinner and ran into someone who had a sign that stated "Hungry, Please feed!" I asked if this person if she wanted our pizza and she replied with a quick and sharp no while continuing to stare off into space.

As we walked away, I felt kind of offended. I didn't realize that the homeless people on the magnificant mile were so high mantience. I just assumed that if someone was holding a sign that said hungy, that person would be grateful for a couple of deep dish sausage and mushroom peices of pizza.

I guess we all know where assuming takes us.

The Rulebook

"The people who know the rule book are the only ones going by it"

I heard this on a television show advertisment. Some new cop show that they are coming out with. The first thing that the ad states is, in a deep advertising voice of course "There is the cop who follows the rules, and then there is the professional who have thrown them out." Then the top quote follows. Now, yes it seems extremley cheesy and the whole basis of the show has been done and redone but I do like that quote.

The idea that the only people who truly follow the rules are the ones that know the rules. I can relate this to Christianity by parralleling 'Christians' and 'nonChristians'. By doing this I am pointing out that Christians arn't tolerate enough. The reality is that Christians follow a certian code and a certain rule book and we shouldn't judge other people by our moral stadards and expectations.

But I kind of want to hit on a different angle. What if we redirected and realized that the revolutionaries of this world consist of two kinds of people.

1.) People who know guidelines and rules and stick to them in an effort to create a dictonomy of harmony in their environments.
2.) People who know the guidelines and the rules so well that they either do one of two things; they learn how to manipulate them to there advantage, or they revamp them and they turn them into priniciples of their lives.

Principles are not concrete and cannot be broken.

So all in all I think that the first line stated in this blog is irrelevant, because everyone lives by their own moral standard. There is not one being on this earth who lives apart from themselves. Everyone is following someone or someone's ruling. I just think that there can be revolution in that. I think that men and women can grasp the ideals and morals of the universe and create something that is very much the same but still causes goose bumps to crawl up your friends arms.

One is never enough

I was working today, as usual, and there was a kid that started complaining that one frozen hot chocolate is not enough and will never be enough.

I have felt like that all summer. I have learned that people spend to much money and have the total mentality that one is never enough. I have been working in a coffee shop all summer, and the money that students carry around is disgusting.

My regulars blow my mind, because in reality, they come in three or four times a week and spend four or five dollars everyday on their coffee.

That is crazy to me. I know and understand that I spent and can spend that much money in one setting, but it still frustrates me.

I think that seeing how much money people spend on coffee shows what kind of lifestyle they lead in their lives.

And then, I could be wrong.

Mel's Mistake

I am a huge fan of Mel Gibson. I love most of the movies that he makes and I think that he is a cool guy.

Mel messed up on monday by getting drunk, getting into a car, and then making anti-semetic remarks to a couple of officers who pulled him over.

Mel has recently apologized to everyone involved and then some.

Now I do think that he was totally in the wrong for getting drunk in public and getting into a car and then making racist remarks, because he is in the public scene. He is a Christian who has stood up for his beliefs, and that makes him automatically in the spotlight. When you are in the spotlight for standing up for something you better live that way.

However, I do not agree with the way that Hollywood is handling the situation. People are freaking out. Making statments like "I'm never going to work with him or see any of his movies."

This is the orginization that has had more deaths involving drugs, more scandal, more sex, more racial problems, and more money then any other orginization in the nation.

If you don't agree with Mel's actions and words, stop putting racial sterotypes in your movies.
Producers, writers, and directors will make the argument that, racisim is a reality of life, and that is true but if we keep sterotyping races than racism is not going to stop.

I know people screw up and when they are drunk they lose control of their words and actions. Mel Gibson has no excuse for his behavior but Hollywood has no excuse for their's either.

The reason that they are standing up against him is because he has been standing up for his beliefs, for the past couple of years.

Oh and the reality of the Passion which apparantly is the anti-semetic movie that Mel came out with is that the Jews historically sent Jesus to be cruxified. Like it or not that is the reality of the situation. That is not anti-semetic, that's the truth.

A new Adventure

I have 20 days left until I go back to school.

That seems outlandish to me.

It's weird to live with a group of people for a year and then separate for three months. Three months is a mountain of time, and could completely change your lifestyle.

I'm really ready.

Haha 20 days.