Poetry, Music, and Real Life

Unfinished Thoughts in Rhymes

2012-02-06T22:21:00.000-06:00

August 2011:

Apparently this can't end well;
Too much pain.
Redemption's hard to sell;
Much easier to dwell
On hurt and cost
And love that's lost.

...What of forgiveness,
Change, and hope?
Is there room for renewal,
Grace...Nope?

There's always a way.
Though some say
That some things can't be,
I wonder.
If we actually trust,
Won't He answer? He must.

January 2012

I flee a fierce fear,

That I will lose control

Of loves and hopes and

Being near.

The voices grasp, lull,

Whisper, jeer.

If there was something there

It's gone.

Lost are the moments that made me care;

Vanished, dissipated,

Faded, like the dawn.

January 2012

Is it a crime

To cherish hope?

Is there time

To climb this slope?

It often seems that I'm a ghost-

Stare right through me,

Ignore me--coast.

February 2012

I've never understood

Why those I'm close with

Step away, or would.

There's some strange myth

That "men don't care-"

That we "don't know."

...Unfair.

Sometimes a song speaks most truly.

2012-01-29T21:11:00.000-06:00

I've been dealing with a lot of conflicting wants lately. This song is pretty accurate of how I feel. And, since I haven't posted in a very long time, a song seems like a good way to attempt to ease my way back in. Over the Rhine is one of my favorite bands, primarily for the amazing way they entwine bittersweetness and artistry. On this blog, and in my life, that is valued.

Enjoy. Tell me your thoughts, if you wish. What does this song and its words mean to you?

Goodbye (This Is Not Goodbye) by Over The Rhine on Grooveshark

Lyrics:

Goodbye (This Is Not Goodbye)
help me tell the truth you see
that’s all i’m trying to do is
tell the truth
i’m not that shy
this is not goodbye
and later on i won’t know how
i don’t know who else to be
more and more i’m secretly just me
open your eyes

help me tell the truth you see
that’s all i’m trying to do is
tell the truth
it’s just in my head
all i’ve left unsaid
and later on it won’t come out

i have seen the final curtain fall
If i have to i’ll surrender all

i’m always coming around too late
too late

it’s not too late

Next.

2011-11-07T21:22:00.001-06:00

Sometimes I have thoughts of things I'd like to do. Some days phrases fill my mind, short sentences that streak through the slick passageways of my mind. I realized after my last post that it was my 100th post. It seems crazy to say, but I've been writing on this blog with some level of consistency since January of 2009. So many things have happened in my life in the time between the past and present. For my 101st word-sprinkling, I'm thinking it's time for a series of staccato blurbs, single notes jabbed without rational connection.

I want to chase the sunset, to drive down a westward road following the light. I had this thought last week for the first time. It's tugging at my heart.
I've been realizing lately how much a part of my life is influenced by music. Martin Luther said something interesting: "Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world." I may not agree completely with him, but there's some truth in what he says. I think that few things have such bearing on how I think and act. There's literally a song for every emotion that I've felt. Lyrics have the capability to make me laugh. There are some songs that only have to begin in order to cause a broad smile break out across my face. For that reason, when I share music, I share a part of myself. The music I love tells the story of who I am.

Point 2: Our good things can never be taken away from us.
Point 3: The best things are yet to come."-Jonathan Edwards' first sermon

There's something amazing in knowing that nothing will ever happen to me that is not for my ultimate good. That's a reason not to stress out. "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."-Isaiah 26:3
All the joy I ever experience is undeserved.
The rain falls, tiny orbs of liquid dribbling and plopping down on the dry earth. Rivulets form. Roots drink deeply of the nectar, the perfect combination of oxygen and hydrogen that distinguishes this planet from everything else in the solar system. Don't try to tell me that we are accidents, that this happened by blind chance. Even with all of the problems that come with living in a broken world...this is too perfect. It works too well.
Why me, God? Why do you love ME?
All my favorite people are broken.

Do you like me?

2011-10-01T19:56:00.000-05:00

I had a thought today, one that is not original, new, or brilliant. It is, however, foundational, and necessary, and lacking in today's culture. For the huge majority of my life, it has been absent in my heart. So, naturally, I tweeted about it. This is a delicate topic, and I hope that no one reading this will feel as though I am judging them or calling them out. That is not my intention. If God uses this post to move someone's heart, or convict of behaviors or attitudes, that would be great. But it's not my intention to cause guilt or shame or make people feel judged. Anyway. This is what I tweeted:

Let me give you some background in my life. This will sound familiar to many of you, so I'll be brief.

For the last 8 years of my life, the opinion and affection of girls has been a major heart idol of mine. That this is a common idol to many, many people does not excuse its presence and effects in my life. I have played with girls' hearts, I have allowed myself to become an idol in their hearts, I have hurt them through my extreme selfishness and self-centeredness...and I have moved on, time and again, without true repentance or sorrow. It may have seemed, at times, that I had gotten it (think this), but I didn't.
With that background in mind, please believe me when I tell you that it has never been fulfilling to the extent that I hoped and believed it would be to know that a girl cared for me in the way that I cared for her (and in some cases, the girl cared for me in a much more admirable and deep way than I did for her).
I believe that, finally, God has brought me to the point of repentance and true sorrow. It took years of frustrating, empty relationships and the pain resulting from them for me to realize that all of the attention I craved and built my life and actions around really wasn't going to do it. I wince at the idea of how much pain I have caused through my destructive actions, at the unrestrained, impossible words, and at the sin I have committed, alone and with/to others.
The reason I'm telling you these things that I have done are in the hope that you will not go through similar situations. To a large extent, we learn from the things that we do. But it is my hope that you can learn from hearing from what others have done, too.
Anyway...back to my original thought in this post. There are many ideas in our culture:

romance is inescapable and preeminent
if it feels good (be it emotionally or physically), do it
we have to test different personalities (through dating and/or sleeping around) to determine who we are or will be compatible with
love waits for no one

All of these viewpoints are lies. For years, I have built my life around the idea that if only I was in a relationship with a girl who cared for me as I did for her, I would be complete. Time and again, God has forced me to admit that it wasn't enough.

I know what it's like to feel the immense pressure and desire to make my feelings known. I also know now how stupid it was of me to think that it was necessary to make them known. By telling various girls that I liked them, I did nothing but cause hurt for both of us, whether anything came of it or not. If you think you care enough for someone to want to be in a relationship with them, it should be a relationship that is marriage. That was the point of my tweet: so often men pursue girls without understanding that if they're not ready to support that girl in marriage, beginning a relationship is going to cause pain. As a Christian, I am called to a higher standard. There's a method. For me, no romantic relationship should be initiated if my end goal in it is not marriage, and no romantic relationship should be begun until I know how I will support that marriage.
Telling a girl that I like her is pointless if I do not intend to begin an intentional relationship with her that will culminate in marriage. I have stated my feelings to girls before, and then found myself in the quandary of not knowing what to do next. This is a common conundrum...we are left to wonder, "What next?"
The saying that "True Love Waits" does not only apply only to the physical side of love, but also to the emotional side of it. True love also waits to begin a relationship until there's a clear path to walk on. Does this make sense? I hope so.
Application (for me, and maybe for you): I will not indicate interest to a girl until God indicates to me that my circumstances are right (yes, the hated requirements: maturity, financial security, long-term viability, life direction...) to pursue her with the intention of marriage. I will not attempt to decipher a girl's attitude toward me unless I have cause to believe that I am leading her on or until I've begun my attempt to win her heart for the purpose of marriage. My heart may overflow with feelings, with the need to speak, but there's no point if there's nowhere to go from there. So, for me and for other guys (perhaps), don't say anything about how you feel toward her until you're in a place where you can do something lasting with those feelings.
Girls, please: I understand how few good men there are around. I'm sorry that we're slacking off. I can only guess at how hard it is for you to wait for the right guy to come along. What will be best for you is if you don't try to figure out what a guy is thinking (romantically) toward you. If he cares enough about you to wait until he's ready to pursue a long-term relationship (meaning...for life), then he's probably worthy of you. The guys who don't wait are not worthy. You will save yourself a lot of heartache and worrying if you wait until you're approached by one of the long-term suspects. :) Playing head games just isn't worth it.
I'm not preaching, except to myself. The difference now, for me, is that my goal is Jesus. In all my friendships with Christian girls lately (the only real friendships with girls I have, in case you're wondering), I've been doing my very best to make it clear that I have one goal for a friendship with them: to pursue Jesus, and to encourage and be encouraged by them in our pursuit of Him. The choice must be to trust Him. Honesty with girls has opened up potential in my friendships for greater encouragement and joy. It's still hard, and it will continue to be hard, to battle with my deceitful heart. But if I commit to waiting, truly waiting, until the time when I am ready to actually do something about a relationship, I'm convinced that it will be far better than the poor imitations I've experienced thus far. I've got the Word on my side. :)

The "Gospel Giggles"

2011-09-19T21:45:00.000-05:00

Have you ever heard a cicada and laughed? Have you ever thought about the idea that the green grass we walk upon, the kind that turns brown in the winter and drought, and shoots to life in the spring practically overnight, is personally attended to, blade by blade, by God? Ha. I hadn't. Today, though, something was different.

I got up this morning at six a.m., groaning as my dad, who has been helping me wake up in the mornings (at my behest) gently encouraged me to awake, reading from my body language that getting out of bed was the last thing I actually wanted to do. Finally, to placate him, I got up, got dressed, and headed down to the living room to recline on the couch and read a Psalm before curling up for another 45 minutes. The battle against myself continues, morning by morning (Pray for me!). At 7, I left my house, and headed to school, driving through fog so thick that I couldn't see what color the streetlights were till I was almost in the intersections. I love fog. I love how impenetrable it is, how the sun burns it away as if it were nothing more than a flimsy curtain on a radiant stage.

At school, I read another Psalm, and remembered my neediness (as for me, I am poor and needy). Without much time for further delving, I headed into Spanish class. Exiting another 50 minutes later, I delivered a long overdue birthday present to a friend and then headed to the computer lab to take the open-book quiz due for my history class that morning. On the way, I got several texts from my brother: "Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever." (Jude 24, 25) Not overly enthused, but aware of the power encompassed in those words, I told Johnny I'd do my best to "try and chew on it." Habitual sin, the kind that I battle with, has a way of sapping the energy to pursue Christ out of me.

Something happened, though, as the day went on. I noticed it as I walked to and from my next two classes: joy. Elation. I was noticing little things and being tickled by how marvelous they were. The leaves on the trees. The veins on my arm. The freckles on my classmate's face (okay, weird, I know). A smile, one I knew was cause for quizzical looks from passersby, grew larger and more noticeable. Onward through my day I journeyed, to the Bible study with my family on campus, Koinonia.

Today we discussed who God is. Oh my goodness. Have you ever tried to think about how huge a topic that is? Think about it. Now, realize how impossible it is to comprehend. Such was my conclusion as my small discussion group looked up the verses on our handout that were listed about God. As we talked about the holiness of God, about his infinite being, about his radical forgiveness, about his choice to give us the choice to choose him or death...I had no ability to do anything but laugh. Have you ever tried to truly understand how ridiculous it is that we have been given the ability to enter into the family of the most powerful being in existence, the ONE who created everything we know and take for granted? Keep trying.

As my brain scrambled for the rest of the study to wrap my mind around how unjustly merciful to me God is, I began noticing little things; there were cicadas buzzing (hilarious!), the grass was cool beneath my feet (ha!), the veins in my arms are carrying the blood that keeps me alive (ohmygoodness)! At that point, I was through. The rest of my day has been full of giggling.

I have walked through the hallways, laughing at the brilliancy of the music in my headphones.

I have yelled for joy on the highway with the windows down at the greatness of His joy and mercy.

We played volleyball tonight, and at times, there were moments when I have gotten upset and angry in the past at the low level of play and seriousness in my teammates. Tonight, I laughed at the individual greatness of each of their personalities (Team Giggle? How apt, Grosdidier!).

I have smiled, over and over again, at how He orchestrates every single little thing in my life. Those tiny beard hairs that make up my beard? He causes each one to grow, at its location and length, on my face. HA! My mind is in overdrive, today. What is better than to see all of the little things that make up the manifold, unmerited, HUGE grace of God? One thing: the huge thing that makes all of the little things hold meaning. Jesus died.

Can you understand the truth that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly? There are many ways to react to that truth, and today, mine has been wonder. Laughter. Joy. I am filled with a joy that I do not deserve and did nothing to receive.

The laughter (mostly to myself in small spurts of uncontrolled giggling) that has made my day so liveable today is of a kind that I have never known before. My prayer is that I will continue to see just how amazing all of the little gifts that I do not notice normally are, that my eyes would continue to be opened to the brilliance of an ant, to the whisper of the wind, to the individual grains of sand that we trod so thoughtlessly in multitudinous games of volleyball. These things are portholes into the ocean of God's personality, keyholes into the whimsy of His creativity. They are gifts, wrapped individually and unmistakably in a different color and shape and texture of wrapping paper. I should never run out of things to giggle at. I should never have reason to stop smiling without obvious cause. There's an ocean in an ant.

Fears, Strength, and Wasting Time

2011-09-13T22:12:00.000-05:00

Sunday morning dawned like many of the previous Sundays have; I set my alarm the night before as if I would actually get up before the 8 o clock breakfast time, knowing that I wouldn't, and pushing snooze with alacrity when the alarm went off. I slept-walked down to the breakfast table, downed the food and coffee that my father had prepared, took a shower, climbed into the car, and perused the new biography of Paul Simon I'd bought the day before on the way to church. Equipping hour, as it is called in my church, was the beginning of a video series by John Piper on future grace; the key point of the first teaching was about how we should not serve God, assuming that we have something to give Him (at first glance, this can seem sticky. Think about it, and ask me about it if you still don't get it). By the end of that short slot, it was time to head upstairs for the main service, which was going to be preached by my brother Johnny on the fall of man near the beginning of creation.
In the waiting before the first song began, I saw my dad talking with Johnny and Stephanie at the back of the sanctuary, and wondered what was going on, based on that and some subtle hints exchanged between my parents that morning and the evening before. The first few songs finished, the announcements gone over, and the time of silence commemorating 9/11 completed, Johnny took his place at the pulpit...and something was wrong. There was something in the way he carried himself, something in the way his words as he began to speak weren't flowing like they usually do, something in the way his eyes looked slightly unfocused. He explained that his brain was moving slowly, that he'd had doubts about whether he should give the sermon, but that he'd decided to give it (despite the fact that one of the symptoms of his slow-moving brain was an inability to make decisions).
He began the sermon, full of much of the same profundity and soul-reaching truths that characterize a "Johnny sermon," but there was a haunting discordance, a disconcerting disconnectedness in his words, confusion in his transitions, and, at times, even a complete loss of a train of thought. Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong... my brain repeated as if on a looped track. Despite the awkward wording and evident confusion on his face at times, he concluded with a chill-inducing, hard-hitting series of truths: "As Creator, He made the world knowing the suffering that He would undergo. He knew that some beauty can only be seen through suffering, that some love can only be shown through sacrifice, some joy only experienced through pain."
Johnny prayed, finished, and the fears began to swell. His conduct worried me, reminded me of John Nash in A Beautiful Mind, of my grandfather late in life, of all the stories I had heard of the people who were beginning to be affected by...brain tumors. The tears began to drip from my eyes as thoughts trampled through my brain like a group of renegade elephants: What am I doing, wasting my time on futile pursuits? What if this sermon is the last that Johnny will ever give? What if today is the healthiest I will ever see him again? What if I won't have a chance to pour out my heart to him ever again? What if this is...it? The tears rained down my face, running in rivulets in a volume I'd not experienced since 2009. The reasoning in my mind ran wild, and the fears swelled as I noticed Johnny and Stephanie's absence, of my father breaking the bread in his place, of their children in the arms of Stephanie's family. I walked to the bathroom, tried to get a grip. Up the stairs again, only to discover that they had indeed gone to the emergency room.
I don't want to waste time. I can't afford to do it. What if today is my last? What if this will be the last blog post I write? What if the time I spent with friends tonight is the last interaction we will ever have? I can't afford to waste time. If I am not influencing my friends and family toward encouragement in and toward Jesus, then what am I influencing them toward?
"All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field." (Isaiah 40:6)
Time is short. Johnny looks as though he is recovering, but there are unknowns, and there are fears, and I can't afford to waste time on my own selfish desires. May God grant me the grace, strength, desire, and knowledge of my weakness that will enable me to make my days, hours, and minutes count.

A poem on death.

2011-08-18T17:03:00.000-05:00

Hey guys. I've been thinking about death lately. I don't think it is wrong of me to do so. I think it is healthy. I wrote a poem about it. Let me know what you think.

"Things fall apart-" that's what they say;

And, though true, that seems a fatalistic way.

We're going to die, this we know,

And so we cram our lives full,

Running from death like fast from slow.

Hear this: life is a vapor, death the pull

From transience to forever.

Life is a trapdoor; death? The lever.

Learning.

2011-08-07T18:01:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well. It's been close to 3 months since I updated this thing. The problem with not posting for so long is that, in the interim, so many things happen that it's hard to even know what to say when I do finally write. So.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about deeper things. God's been working. When He works (or I allow Him to), that tends to be the case. A conversation with some friends last week got me thinking about many of the dividing issues among Christians; predestination, baptism (is it necessary in order to "be saved"? No.), speaking in tongues, worship, and some other topics all came up. As I've been musing on them throughout the week, and talking about them with my brother/boss/pastor/friend while we work, the natural outcome of thinking about them so much has been to bring them up in conversations; with my sister Sarah, with my parents, and last night, with my friends after a long day of playing volleyball.
Friday night I stayed up later than I wanted to because I kept getting caught up in watching just one more Piper, Driscoll, or Keller youtube clip; I brought up Mark Driscoll saying that the hit movie Avatar is "satanic and demonic," and how it had made me question how I watch movies. Am I willing to just accept a movie as an enjoyable thing to see or story to be engaged in? Subsequently, I gave an example of a movie that I have felt rewards revenge as a means to an end: The Count of Monte Cristo.
At that point, my friend brought up a great point. One of my favorite movies having to do with romance, love, and chick-flick-ishness is 500 Days of Summer (starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel). Anyway, my friend, knowing this, asked me how I could feel like the Count of Monte Cristo is based on a false premise and dislike it when one of my favorite movies is based on perhaps an even worse worldview. Oops becomes--> Dagger--> becomes --> Touche.

The point of all this? I need to be aware of the conclusions I come to, and then apply them to my life. I need to be careful to analyze not only the movies that I am less likely to love, but also the ones that I can easily identify with. I need to look at the log in my own eye before seeking to take out the speck in my brother's. God has been teaching me so much. I have so much more to learn.
Lots to think about. I hope to share more of the thoughts that have been pinging about inside of my brain, soon.

I was a writer, once.

2011-05-19T23:23:00.000-05:00

Sitting down to write for the first time in months, I'm not quite sure what will come out. I worked today, and tried to come up with some thoughts, but I've realized after many posts on this blog that, when I'm sitting to write, nothing comes out like I had planned. I have a feeling the only thing that will stay the same from my earlier thoughts is the title. It's a good one, I think.

This semester has been different. So many things have been different. It's hard to explain without saying more than I want to, but it's probably honest to say that never before have I had as many expectations on me while simultaneously feeling completely unable and unworthy to complete them. Perhaps I'll write about some of the things I did this semester, and see what comes out.

Probably the most unique activity I've done as far as school-related was Model United Nations, through Johnson County Community College. Model United Nations simulates the real United Nations in a very real way, with delegations from universities and colleges from around the states and the world representing real Member States' positions. For me, being a part of two different conferences (in Saint Louis and New York City), I had to research the positions of France and New Zealand on First Committee issues, which have to do with security, arms trade, and other related topics. Never before have I had to use so many different areas before; at the conferences, I gave speeches, compared viewpoints with delegates from nations around the world, wrote resolutions, and learned parliamentary procedure, all while using a vocabulary ten times higher than my normal one. I'd definitely recommend it to anyone with any interest at all...where else can you be involved in an activity that sends you to various famous cities around America at a fraction of the cost, meet people you wouldn't otherwise, and develop so many different vital life skills? It was a great experience.

I wrote several articles for the school newspaper, the Campus Ledger. While I won't be returning in the fall (I'll be working at the school's Writing Center instead...), it was definitely a great experience to interview a wide variety of people on a diverse number of topics. The journalistic writing style is really not for me, though, which is a large part of why I won't be continuing in the journalism field.

I was handed the reins to the on-campus Bible study group at JCCC this semester, along with Jonathan Tate. Ha. Talk about a big responsibility at a time when I feel completely inadequate, and, at times, hypocritical. I'm confident that God worked in spite of me, but a lot needs to change before I'll be comfortable in a leadership role in the fall semester. Some encouraging things, though: the group grew! It was great to see some new faces, new passionate followers of Jesus, and interested attendees. It looks as though God is working, although progress can seem agonizingly slow most of the time.

As far as courses go, I took volleyball, Model Unites Nations, Astronomy, World Cultures, and Interpersonal Communication. I didn't do as well as I should have. I shall have to work harder next semester.

In less than two weeks, I'll be in Italy. Long have I looked forward to the time there, and it's seemed as if it's forever away for a long time. But now it's soon, and my hope is that God stirs my heart for Him. Because, honestly: I am not seeking God like I should be. I am not making time with Him in order for Him to speak truth to me, I am not talking to Him, and I am not doing as I know I should. It's a scary place to be, because I am one who knows what I should do and is not doing it. Typing it out, it's obvious how silly it is for me to be disobeying Him while I know how devastating it is, to me and to my relationship with Him and others. I know I'll come back, I know I'll seek Him, and I should be doing so right now. But I'm not. And it's scary.

I know where truth is, and I know that I should go to it. Truth like this:

17 my soul is bereft of peace;

I have forgotten what happiness^a is;

18 so I say, “My endurance has perished;

so has my hope from the LORD.”

19 Remember my affliction and my wanderings,

the wormwood and the gall!

20 My soul continually remembers it

and is bowed down within me.

21 But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

22 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

23 they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

24 “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,

“therefore I will hope in him.”--Lamentations 3:17-22

I have reason to hope. I should hope. And I should change. And. I was a writer, once.

A Million Miles...

2011-03-06T23:11:00.000-06:00

I promise I'll write an original blog post of substance soon, but before then I thought I'd plug Donald Miller's great A Million Miles in a Thousand Years book, which comes out in paperback this today. Highly recommended and easy to read. Check it.

The Amazon Link

What story are you telling? from Rhetorik Creative on Vimeo.

Ha.

2011-02-08T21:28:00.002-06:00

This made me laugh at how accurate(ish) this is. Enjoy.

A Time for Yearning

2011-02-05T23:53:00.000-06:00

I meant to write a follow-up to my last post on church and belonging to one, and talk about how I said some things in a way that were probably not the best way to put them. But tonight, I can't write that post, because my heart is yearning.
Tonight, as I drove home from the church building I know every inch of, my heart wanted only to drive, to wander, to go. Every car I passed seemed to be in slow motion, although my foot pressed lighter than usual on the gas pedal. My soul searched for quiet, but hindered its search by clattering around inside of my head. Sometimes, I think I just need to leave. Immediately. So far, there's always been enough reason in me to dissuade me from disappearing (I'm pretty practical...I know that I don't have enough money, or that the vehicle I'm driving will break down before I get somewhere I don't know where I am, or that I'll just feel guilty for leaving). Still, the idea of leaving my life behind is so utterly appealing sometimes.
I have a lot of problems, and on nights like these I start to realize that I will always have a myriad of problems. The idea of always being stuck with problems begins to weigh on me, and the idea of leaving them all behind starts to seem so appealing. Right. As if, by simply driving into the black night until I run out of gas or wakefulness or will, I will no longer have any problems (I'd probably have more than when I left, frankly). But I'm sure you know partly the feeling I'm writing about, where our heart says to go. I grow so tired of my weaknesses, inconsistencies, and shortcomings that are holding me back from where I'd like to be that I would rather just leave all the familiarity behind and make a new life with new problems. I don't like monotony.
But I never leave. Something always holds me back; perhaps the knowledge that fleeing my problems will never solve them, or the understanding that my family loves me more than anyone I'll find elsewhere ever can, or the knowing that God's plan for my life does not include a hare-brained flight across the country in a family vehicle. Whatever it is that stops me from rolling across the blacktop for uncounted miles, what it cannot stop is the restlessness within, the yearning for what I cannot have right now. I want a lot of things, good things, things that God wants me to want, but I have none of them, and will not for a while, or at least until I pass a few more hard tests (not school). I want to allow myself to fall completely in love with a wonderful woman, and I want to know God in the most complete way possible, I want to DIE, I want to have a job that pays for my needs...I want to grow up. I call the desire for all of the good things I don't have yearning. And, in my mind, yearning is a good kind of want.
There are many kinds of wantings, but yearning is one of the best. There is lusting, or coveting, or wanting, or thirsting, or yearning. And others. Tonight, I yearn. Tonight, I make plans to walk across the country with a dog, or bike a famous highway, or canoe a long and muddy river. Tonight, I dream of things I won't do. And, eventually, I realize, with a deep sigh, that tonight is meant to bring me back to Him, like every other night, or day. My times are in His hand. But, deep within, I still yearn. A yearning does not just disappear. Nor should it. Robert Frost knew some of what I'm fruitlessly describing. Maybe he can help you understand what I mean.

Reluctance-Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,

Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow,

When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feet question "Whither?"

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?

Convictions.

2011-01-24T00:40:00.000-06:00

The "cool" thing in Christianity today is to let your convictions and personal beliefs be shaped by those you are around. Or so I've heard. If I've noticed and heard correctly, an example of such an ideology would mean that, if I'm with cocaine junkies, I can join in with them in order to influence them toward Jesus. Okay...so there are a myriad of problems with that kind of belief, I won't even approach it or I'd rant. Ranting coming from me isn't usually very good, because I'm extremely honest and blunt about what I think. And, of course, what I think is not always nice, and definitely not always correct. So. All I'm trying to do by citing that example is point out that God wants us to have convictions. Firm ones. Ones that we own. For ourselves.

For most of my teenage years (which are rapidly dwindling...down to days. Oh dear.), I had no firm convictions, ones that I felt strongly as my own. Sure, I knew what was right and wrong. I knew what the Bible said, and I knew what I should and shouldn't do. But there's a big difference between knowing that I should or should not do something, and believing in my own heart through the conviction of the Holy Spirit that that something is not for me to partake in. As I've grown in Christ, I've realized that He's given me some strong convictions of my own, not just the ones (good ones, too!) that have been instilled in me by my parents.

Last week, God encouraged me by bringing to mind two main personal convictions that He's given me over the last year and a half or so. Well. Or so. They're obviously two different ones, so they happened at different times. The one I want to talk about in this post is that of church. And committing to a church. Oh yes. Be afraid. Hot topic? Yes. Controversial? Yes. I'll try to be as tactful as I can, and you should probably realize that this is MY conviction. I don't need everybody to agree with me. I don't need your approval at all, actually, if I'm thinking straight. That's not to say that I don't want it or like it...but I'm a child of God. He sees me as His perfect son of God. You guys can't beat that...so. Yes.

Church is a biblical institution. Of sorts. The word "institution" has come to have negative connotations when applied to church. Just know that when I use it, I'm speaking of the biblically ordained structure of a shepherd and his flock, a pastor and his people. The place where the Lord's Supper occurs, where true community is meant to be experienced (and where, most likely, it is not). The church family is meant to be the most attractive group of people in the world, and the church is meant to be the safe haven of the children of God. Of course, we're all part of the world-wide church, the group of believers who claim Jesus' blood as their only goodness and right to to be with God. But, in this post, I'm talking about the local church. You know, the one we go to on Sundays.

This is where things get inflammatory, perhaps. I'll try and be careful. Somewhat. I will say that I don't have a lot of patience for the people who leave church after a while because they "aren't being fed." Since when was church a place where everything was about being fed? How selfish have American Christians become, to think that if a sermon doesn't give them a special buzz or a tingle up their spine, there's something wrong with the church or the leadership? A church is all about feeding, yes, but the people of a church are not all meant to just act like little baby birds, squawking and holding their mouths open for more regurgitated worms from their slaving mother bird. Church is not about programs, or money, or how happy we feel after the singing. Church is about meeting Jesus, and seeing Him through the people there. It's about understanding the gospel more clearly through the sermons, the singing, and all the interactions that take place. When a church doesn't incorporate the gospel into everything it does, it is not going to be a healthy church (and yes, there are a few good reasons to leave a church. A few.). When the people of a church look beyond the gospel for their spiritual growth, they will have unhealthy spiritual lives. And they will leave the church. Most of what I'm saying here probably sounds very judgmental and, in the end, hypocritical. I seek my own good more than I seek others'. I do what's in my best interests. I am not an accurate depiction of a member of the body of Jesus, and I do not accurately convey what He is to those who don't know Him. But I want to move closer to that. And I'm convinced and strongly hold to the belief that, unless a church's people commit to staying in it for the long haul and process of becoming the true community of Jesus, people will not be fed in the way they need to. So, yes. Leave if you want to, but know that your leaving is part of the problem in why you weren't being fed in the first place. It takes commitment for a church to be healthy. And it takes the right heart attitude to be committed. Let's not be leeches. Let's be part of a beautiful symbiotic relationship that shows the world a group of people who love each other more than we love our own feelings, desires, and needs. When a church is not just a building, but a community of people who all love each other, are invested in each other, open with each other, and all bring something to the table, the power of Jesus' blood is evident in a unique and awesome way. I want to experience that.

I haven't really told you my conviction. But. What God's done in my heart this last year is similar to what happens when a sparrow (no, I'm not equating God with a sparrow. He's a lot more magnificent than that.) builds its nest out of an intertwined combination of grasses, leaves, and whatever other junk it can find: He's taken me, a blade of weak and broken grass, and knit my heart with my church. I will not leave unless my church sends me, and I will be a part of what God is doing in my church. He's also shown me how ridiculous it is for me to want my friends in other churches to come be a part of mine, how hypocritical (for one thing) and how counter-productive it is. A church should grow primarily through new believers, not church hoppers and transplants. My prayer is that He uses me to grow my church through new followers of His cross and His glory.

The Day That Must Be Written

2011-01-07T01:38:00.000-06:00

God gives all of us gifts. Gifts are meant to be shared, really. The idea of generosity is that it shows a heart of selflessness...appreciation for others, a way of showing that appreciation. There are so many different kinds of gifts: physical gifts, spiritual gifts, gifts of skill, gifts of time...the list stretches on. I'd like to use one of my gifts (the ability to communicate through writing) to tell you about another gift (today). True, today was a day in which I didn't get everything done that I had planned to, but since when does that happen? And why should I be responsible ALL the time? (Ha. Nobody who knows me thinks "responsible" when they think of me).

God loves to give us gifts. Often, we don't see them for what they are. I'm appreciating the fact that, lately, He's given me the gift of seeing myself in the light of who I am in His eyes, and who I am beyond how I feel (emotionally, physically, circumstantially). Have you ever realized how He sees you? That He sees me as one of His children, loved, appreciated, forgiven (I have the same status as His PERFECT Son!)...that truth is the kind that should cause us all to marvel every day. While seeing myself realistically (how I really am, with all my problems) is a hard thing, I love that I can see it, because with knowledge and self-awareness (a good kind) comes the ability to change. Also with a knowledge of who I am in His sight comes such freedom. I can be honest about my problems, because I know that He sees me spotlessly, without blemish because of the death of His own Son. I'm sure you all know how basic this is, but truly believing it leads to such unbelievable freedom. And yes, I know sometimes my words are redundant, and that I'm using parentheses a whole lot in this post. It's okay. :)

An area in which I tend to be hugely selfish in is in the realm of holding peoples' attention. God has opened my eyes to this somewhat obvious fault in my heart: I like to have the complete attention of people. Especially, to be completely sincere, girls. So, often I tend to let whether or not I am achieving "noticed" status determine my joy, with drastic effects when I have to take a backseat. I'm pretty sure you've seen the side effects: drastic grumpiness, solitariness, withdrawal, and silence. I don't like to share. It all comes down to selfishness and pride, which seem to be (seem to be? No...ARE, will BE) constants in my life. They always will be, but when I recognize their presence, so much of their insidious strength is diminished. I love it! All of which to say...

Today was a wonderful day. I've been so often blind to extraordinary days, but this one was impossible to miss. Today, God was here. I woke up with Him, later than I intended to. God's so gracious, though. I rode off to breakfast and discussion/accountability time with my dear friends and brothers, Johnny and Jonathan (the terrific two). IHOP was our destination, (kinda pricey, not that great) and God was our home. I love finding Him everywhere. And I love seeing Him present in those dear to me. Suffice to say, God is good. Truly believing that sentence above (which can become rote, automatic, cliche) is, in itself a gift of my God. Anyway...it was a wonderful start to my day. It's lovely to be able to share my heart, my struggles, and myself with two amazing men who love me with a love not their own.

The next part of my day involves home. I wonder how often we take our home for granted. Home is where I will never be rejected, I will never feel out of place, I will always be LOVED. In many ways, my home is the best picture of heaven I'll get right now. Anyway...at my home, I got to spend some sweet time with Him, catch some more sleep (probably the bad decision of my day...but God's good, right?), and fold the mass of clean laundry that resulted from three weeks of it piling up unwashed. And then...off to see friends!

I don't really like Starbucks too much. But I loved it today, not necessarily for the large medium roast coffee I ingested, but for the great people who spent time with me there. A dear friend, Brian, had the sparkling idea to hang out at aforesaid coffee joint for his birthday, a sort of impromptu birthday party without oft-required structure and organization. It was a grand idea. And, being the selfish person I am, I enjoyed the time there quite a lot for myself. It's so good to be with sincere people (another recent revelation). My friend Ruthi instructed me on all the new music I need to listen to (Adele is very good), the inspiring and exemplary Brian and I schemed to have exclusive Woody Allen movie-watching parties (or was it just one, back to back?), my lovely friends Marisa and Jami inspired me to go to Savers (wait for it), and many others contributed to a marvelous time of just TALKING. Fellowship is something else that is under-appreciated (similar to smiles). It is so good to be with those who know and love Him.

After a few hours, I departed the cozy coffee shop in favor of the never-before-visited Savers, in company of aforementioned Jami and Marisa. There I met some old childhood friends, Lloyd, Robert, Clyde, and Ingri and Edgar (not a misspelling. Her name really is Ingri). For four bucks and pennies, I purchased them all (6 of them!). It's good to be real with people, and, to allude to an-already mentioned struggle, God was really good to me today and allowed me to step back from seeking attention all for my own (for the most part, I think). When I'm not worrying about garnering attention for myself, I actually have a lot more fun (funny how that works). Hopefully the same is true for those I'm around. From Savers, I headed to...

Mission Bowl, where I met even more lovely people for a few hours of delightful bowling (who'd have thought?). I succeeded in throwing a few strikes, a few spares, and at cementing my status as a horrid bowler. It's okay, though: tonight I was especially at home in who I am to Him. It's good to feel his presence. When our time ran out at the lanes, onward I proceeded.

The Amos family residence found itself showered with myriads of crazy college-age kids (although I'm not sure Janice or Dawn count as college-age...), and I added myself (and the wonderful sir Jordan) to the mixture. Playing foosball (and losing) took up most of my time, along with a few quick rounds of Boggle. And then? Back to home. I love my home.

I love that Jesus is my home. That heaven is my home. That I get to be there. And I yearn for that time. Today was a day that was a gift (like...every. other. day). But today I got the feeling that God was being especially good to me, as if He wanted to help me believe in His goodness even more. Because, in the end, I will always be believing in a goodness, in the ability of something or someone to make me most happy. Everything but Him will result in disillusionment, depression, and disregard for others. Today was a day to remember that when I see Him as my goodness, my reason for joy, I'll be even more joyful! So simple, yet so true. This year will be a quest to believe in His sufficiency and goodness for me more every day that I breathe. Would you like to join me on the quest? All of the people I was with today helped me see Him more, and so, in a sense, they're already part of the journey. Thank you, all of you, for serving as windows by which to see Him.

Quotations from great men

2010-12-24T01:14:00.001-06:00

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens." --J.R.R. Tolkien

“In life there can be no victor, for death comes to all and smites them.” --J.R.R. Tolkien

“Oft hope is born, when all is forlorn.” J.R.R. Tolkien

“Fealty with love, Valor with honor, oathbreaking with vengeance.” --J.R.R. Tolkien

“The Road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say.” --J.R.R. Tolkien

“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the darkness fall.” --J.R.R. Tolkien

Douglas MacArthur

Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword never encountered automatic weapons.

Winston Churchill

The greatest lesson in life is to know that even fools are right sometimes.

He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.

An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last.

It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government, except all the others that have been tried.

Abraham Lincoln

You cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they could and should do for themselves.

This post was a good idea when I started it. Not so now. Oh well.

Last Minutes With Oden

2010-12-21T16:02:00.002-06:00

God can use anything He wants to in order to show us Himself.

Last Minutes with ODEN from phos pictures on Vimeo.

Inspiration.

2010-11-18T20:34:00.000-06:00

The inspiration to write a post of any meaning is hard to come by these days. I know there are lots of things I could write about: any of the things I mentioned in my-more-than-a-month-ago post, my new nephew, any of a number of things going on in my brain, my experience in the student section at the latest KU game, my favorite new music discovery, one of the boring papers I've written this year for school...So maybe I'll combine a few of those things in this post.

Everyone seems so certain

Everyone knows who they are

Everyone’s got a mother and a father

They all seem so sure they’re going far

They all got more friends than they can use

I am not certain. I don't know who I am. I do have an amazing mother and father. I don't know what I'm going for. I don't have more friends than I can use; I use the friends I do have. This is what I do know: I am so weak. I am so tired. I lack the energy to get up at the first alarm most days. Some days, the second. Other days, I just turn all of the alarms off and sleep. I want to get away from it all, from the self-inflicted pain and hurt, the selfishness and self-centeredness, the looming depression I know I can still escape from. So I sleep and hope and wish that it was that easy.

Except me ‘cause I’m a fool
I’m simple as a bee
As a melody in C
But it don’t matter
There are more wishes than stars

I AM a fool. I mindlessly pursue my own good. I procrastinate forever. I go back to my own vomit. But hey, it's not all bad. I have a God. He's good to me. He gives me the moments of wisdom I do have. And right now, He's focusing on my joy. He's always doing that, you know? He wants my joy. How great is that? Beyond great.

There’s a place between waking and sleeping

A space where the land meets the sea

That’s where the shadows are keeping
The shine that you once kept for me

Sometimes, in my sleep, I think I think I've found that place. But, when I wake up, I never remember the shine. I just think that, somewhere in my dreams, I know where the feeling is. That indescribable feeling. Shine describes it pretty well. Life is bittersweet. I'm beginning to understand what my oldest brother Arie meant when he called his blog Bittersweet Life. And that's a good thing. There's something to be said for the innocent days, but who actually, truly, really thinks they can live their whole life ignorant of the deeper elements of human existence? It's a nice concept (that's my new cynical phrase, by the way. I used it in my debate earlier this week. It was fun). It's good to understand the bittersweetness of life. In that knowledge we can see the need of our hearts for the ultimate un-bitterness.

Hey, you don’t know me from an Adam

And I don’t know you from an Eve

We’ve only got boredom in common
Why don’t we just get up, get out of here, and leave
And go ha ha ha
Laughing all over the town
See, you’ve only known me since I’ve been lonely
I’m different when I’m fooling around

I don't think there's anyone who's never wished they could just start their life over with someone who didn't have any preconceptions of them. Does that make sense? So often I feel trapped, boxed, stuck in this picture frame people have created for me based on who I've been, what they've seen, who people want me to be. People mostly see a side of me that isn't me, I think. And that's despite my best attempts to be completely honest, to strip away all the exterior drywall that has hidden my heart. It doesn't work. In my attempts to become completely genuine for all to see, something has always gone wrong. I think it's probably because God doesn't want me to be the person I'm trying to put on display. It'll come. And I just need to be patient enough to wait for His plan. That's all. Not hard, huh? Can you tell that patience is one of my least favorite things in the world? No? I thought not.

Some days we all are blessed

We sing the world to rest

Until the moon shines through
The broken window pane
And calls you back again

Inspiration is everywhere. I just need to look for it. I'm constantly being called back to the melancholy side of things. But God has put His call in my ear, and I feel like I'm still tuning through static to get a clear signal. That's a constant struggle. I need to learn to embrace that struggle.

Note: All song lyrics taken from Harper Simon's self-titled album. Specific songs: Audit, Wishes and Stars, The Shine, Ha Ha.

So.

2010-10-07T19:54:00.000-05:00

Hey guys. Hey. :) I'm into greetings these days. I'm not too sure why. Just humor me.

Lately I've been pondering lots of things, as is my way. Tonight I'm sitting down to try to write down some of the random ideas here, and figure out which ideas you, my beloved readers, would like to see in complete(r) thoughts in a full post. So...here goes.

1) Pain. Why is it here? (mmm...this could be a good one)
2) Why songs have power.
3) An update on the rote, everyday aspects of my life.
4) A song to share.
5) A poem, original or great.
6) Thoughts on why loving people is so hard. And why accepting love is so hard.
7) A recycled writing (i.e., a writing assignment from school)
8) Why questions and why we should ask them.

I have a feeling that's enough to keep you guys busy for a while. :) On another note, if you read my last post on Save Blue Like Jazz...it happened. 10 days and the funding is complete. It should hopefully come out next year. I'm looking forward to seeing it, and I'm working on tempering my expectations and detaching the book from an extremely different screenplay/film.

Hope you all are well! Let me know what you think I should write about.

Blue Like Jazz, The Movie

2010-09-29T21:31:00.001-05:00

If you people know me at all, you probably know that I'm kind of obsessive about Donald Miller, and his book, Blue Like Jazz. I've read it about 3 times, copied out much of it, quoted it...the list goes on. Anyway, a movie was in the works and headed for production...but funding was insufficient and it got put on an indefinite hold. Until...this. Check it out. :) Spread the word!

Save Blue Like Jazz from Save Blue Like Jazz on Vimeo.

Knowing Becomes Believing

2010-09-19T23:01:00.000-05:00

So. I'm still working myself back towards writing a "real" post. For now, I'm giving you writing from the past. It's pretty open of me...so hopefully you aren't shocked by what you see. :) A lot of this is an ongoing struggle, too. Please don't think I write from a viewpoint of expertise. Maybe a lot of what you've seen in my life will make sense after you read this. I don't know. I guess you'll find out. Let me know what you think, please.

Knowing Becomes Believing

    The boy walked into the quiet night, stepping towards the massive concrete structure that loomed towards him. Dark thoughts circulating in his head, he wondered why he was in this situation and if he would ever get out. He envisioned the newspaper headlines that would appear the next day if he decided to give up hope of ever escaping his demons: “Boy found dead on eve of 18th birthday.” Recognizing them as stupid thoughts, he pushed them away and walked away from the soothing dam and calming lights, continuing his search for something that would assuage his doubts and calm his fears.
    He had not always been like this. For years, he had been involved with children’s ministries: Backyard Bible Clubs, Good News Clubs, summer Bible camps, home schooling children’s conferences, tutoring inner city kids. They had made him feel close to God, enjoy his life, and feel like he was giving to people. But something was different. He felt unreal. There was something missing. He felt trapped by the monster that was his own sinful desires. He was trapped. He tried to keep going, and kept doing the things he had always done, hoping they could still give him the same sense of joy and contentment…
    But eventually his happiness dissipated, slowly, leaving him in near despair and wondering if everything he had taught kids for years was true and real. He had not distanced himself from his church; he still wore the mask of believing what he heard and sang inside the walls of that building. But he doubted. Why couldn’t he ever seem to defeat the sin that had trapped him for years? What was the point in “fighting” if he never won?
    He embarked on a crusade of realness. He no longer disguised his emotions, boldly displaying what he felt on his face and in his writing. He stopped singing some of the songs at the church service, stopped reading his Bible, stopped talking to God. He just tried to get by. He just was. He was still searching, looking for something, anything at all that would make him feel better. Even in his quest to be real and unhypocritical, he failed. He was deceptive. In his quest to find something to make him feel wanted and more loved, he imagined the relationship he could perhaps have with the latest girl to catch his eye. Whenever he saw her, the unspoken words he wished he could say clogged up in his throat like the water behind a dam. But there was never anything he could find to make him happy. Months went by, not devoid of light, but characterized by lengthy periods of night.
    Finally, he made a decision to go back to the place where he had felt closest to God and most alive. He returned to the Bible camp for inner city kids in the countryside of Oklahoma and left his “dark” persona behind him, purposing to be real and find God by depending on Him. He went in with the mindset of going to God for help in the tough situations, and came out with hope and faith. God had not let him down. He was teaching children many of the same things he had taught them before, but it was real to him. He believed now instead of just knowing. He hoped instead of despairing. He was fulfilled instead of empty. This was what he had been looking for. He had found God when he became desperate for Him. And when he returned home, he didn’t leave God in Oklahoma. He kept seeking God, learning about God, and drawing nearer to Him.
    A year removed from the lonely boy walking in the night picturing newspaper headlines, he looked back. Yes, he had made mistakes and encountered setbacks. But he was more than just older. No longer did he question what he believed. No longer did he trust just because that’s what he had been taught. He believed out of experience, and he lived in hope.

"I threw a pebble in a brook...

2010-09-10T22:57:00.000-05:00

I threw a pebble in a brook

And watched the ripples run away

And they never made a sound.

And the leaves that are green turned to brown,

And they wither with the wind,

And they crumble in your hand."

Life is always about things ending. People leaving. Dreams dying. But...eventually, when the final finish comes...I can't wait.

All I Have Are Songs.

2010-09-02T22:49:00.001-05:00

I'm sorry, friends. :/ The only words I have right now to say are conveyed through other people's music and lyrics. I'm getting past a hard thing...I think. It always takes time. And I'd appreciate your prayer. Anyway. Here's an applicable song:

What if there was no light.
Nothing wrong, nothing right.
What if there was no time?
And no reason or rhyme?
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there by your side.
That you don't want me there in your life.

What if I got it wrong?
And no poem or song..
Could put right what I got wrong,
Or make you feel I belong
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there by your side
That you don't want me there in your life.

Oooooh, that's right
Let's take a breath, jump over the side.
Oooooh, that's right
How can you know it if you don't even try?
Oooooh, that's right

Every step that you take
Could be your biggest mistake
It could bend or it could break
But that's the risk that you take
What if you should decide
That you don't want me there in your life.
That you don't want me there by your side.

Oooooh, that's right
Let's take a breath jump over the side.
Oooooh, that's right
How can you know it when you don't even try?
Oooooh, that's right

Oooooh, that's right
Let's take a breath jump over the side
Oooooh, that's right
You know that darkness always turns into light
Oooooh, that's right.

One Moment There...and gone.

2010-08-21T15:03:00.001-05:00

Loneliness stinks.

Emily Dickinson-

I held a jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep
The day was warm, and winds were prosy
I said, "Twill keep"

I woke - and chide my honest fingers,
The Gem was gone
And now, an Amethyst remembrance
Is all I own

Once I thought/ the world was crazy...

2010-08-14T22:52:00.000-05:00

"Once I thought the world was crazy
Everyone was sad and chasing
Happiness and love and
I was the only one above it."

I used to view girls as despicable, members of an alien strain, beings to be attacked. Isn't that sad and funny at the same time? Of course, when you're 6, that attitude is still viewed as cute. After my friends had all experienced their first crushes, and I hadn't (I never was interested in talking about it either...so I didn't know of their discoveries), my attitude started getting me into trouble. I was a pretty oblivious child, apparently; I didn't find out about the animosity I garnered until later, when I'd discovered a use for girls myself (please don't get offended. Girls/women are wonderful creations of God, and I appreciate them quite a bit.) and different girls stepped forward with their grudges against me. But, finally, it did happen. "Girls were enemies. Until her, then."*

"Once I thought without a doubt
I had it all figured out
Universe with hands unseen
I was cold as gasoline."

I didn't figure it out. But I thought it was pretty simple. I've gone into the details before on this blog about how I thought I could win attention in my hopeless quest to win approval from depraved sinners just like me. As if ruined mankind could bring me validation and joy! I still try today. But I'm no longer "cold as gasoline." God is warming me, shaping me, changing me. But oh, the lessons to learn.

"Took too long, to think
I was wrong
To believe in me
Only."

Patterns of the mind, the body, the soul...they don't just go away. Ways of looking at people, processes I automatically put people through in my head to judge them; it's depressing to see my wretched man still controlling my flesh. Even when God shows me who He is, I still mix the wonder with my own agenda. Like some putrid mix of cider and orange juice, or coffee and sugar, I drink poison unknowingly and knowingly every day of my life. This is something that I hate but have gotten used to, to some extent. I'm not content, but I've started to see the pattern within the pattern. I'm always going to be fighting against the patterns ingrained within my flesh. And it takes too long.

Once my life was a game
So unfair
Beat me down and kept me there
Unaware of my naysayer
Solitaire was all I was
Playing

Key word: once**. Isn't that a beautiful word, in the right context? Once a sinner, now a saint. Once hopeless, now hope-filled. Once despairing, now joyous. No longer am I condemned to obey my flesh or follow my dead-end patterns to the pit. Now, I'm learning to rejoice in my singleness, in the gift that I've been given to truly know God without distraction or temptation to go to someone instead of the THE One. In Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of OUR faith, I have a brother has chosen to make me a joint-heir in the kingdom of God. And that, right there, is enough to think about for the rest of eternity. I'm called to a higher love, and set free from the circuitous route of endless slavery.

*For Composition I last semester, we were challenged to write about a memory in exactly 100, 50, and 6 words. I wrote about that experience...and finished with those 6. It was fun. You should try a similar exercise sometime.

**Yes, I'm sure that for some, this word will conjure up images of Irglova, Hansard, Irish films, and heartache. That's alright. It does for me too.

Red is Blue. (the end of an era)

2010-08-08T15:33:00.001-05:00

I don't really have words to say right now.

Red is Blue-Ben Folds

Everything is changing
You're looking for the cure
And you feel like you're the loneliest girl in the
world
Trouble in your head now
Don't know what to do
Seems like up is down and red is blue

Red is blue
Red is blue

Remember when we started
Days when all was fun
All that we could make when life was young
Now you're getting older
Nothing feels the same
You can't even make sense of your own name

Because red is blue
(Doesn't make much sense)
But red is blue
(Messing with your head now)
Red is blue

Oohh
Oohh

In your heart
There's a room where you lock up
All the times and the things that she said
And now red is blue
What was near is far now
Red is blue
Like a fallen star
And red is blue

Oohh
Oohh

Life.

2010-07-21T23:10:00.000-05:00

I don't usually post these kind of posts, I don't think. I don't know really. But I think that this shall be a rambling post. Ready?

I'm really thankful for my summer job. I get to listen to sermons from learned men of God who have sharpened my intellect, deepened my love for God, and increased my desire to serve Him. (How? I'm seeking to see sin for what it really is: wanting God's things without Him. Among other things. That was just one of today's applications. :) ) Also, I have a pretty sweet tan and a lot more money in the bank than in May.
I'm encouraged as to the direction my church is going. Any change that happens in my church will have to be undertaken methodically and carefully, but I love the vision and signs of change that God has begun already. If you're interested in becoming part of a group of Christ-followers seeking to know Him together, join those of us who have that vision for my church, and be a part of the change.
I'm excited for what God is going to accomplish is my rotten, sinful heart. Praise be to Jesus that I have a new identity in and through Christ, in which I am viewed as a son of God, the same as Jesus. Can you wrap your brain around that? I'm spotless in God's eyes! I'm getting ready to experience Him for the next ten days in Minneapolis, MN, as 17 of our church are heading up there to team up with a church from Ohio and some dear saints from the Urban Refuge to minister to the city and experience a little bit of the Kingdom of God.
This fall will be interesting. At least 15 credits, on three days, at JCCC. The Bible study we started last spring will be continuing, and I'm certain that God has great plans for it if we will submit to them. Join us in that endeavor as well, if you wish. We're trying to experience God's love as a community there, too, as we seek to show His love to those who realize something is missing. (Classes I'm taking: Political Science, Composition II, Art History, Mythology of some sort, and Anthropology. Looking forward to them!)
I think I'm going to get back to my facebook. :/ Yes, I know how much I have railed against it and delighted in my abscence. But I know that there are, somehow, good uses for it. And I feel that I've experienced enough of the grace of God to attempt a comeback and see what happens. If I'm still immature and time-wasting, the deactivate button is never too far away. I'll just have to figure out how to use it after a year and half's distance. And I'm planning an explanation note soon, so don't spread the word just yet. :)
God is at work in me, shaping me, loving me, teaching me to love. I see bits and pieces of the change, but there's so much more for Him to accomplish. Trust is such a hard thing; I feel that I know what's best for me and especially for others and their choices way too much of the time. I don't know what's best. God does. Love for those who are acting unloveable is another hard thing. Joy when I feel like complaining is such a hard thing to grasp. But God is faithful. And I love Him.
The end. (I leave Friday for MTTC, if I didn't say that yet.)

Coffee As Drug

2010-06-29T15:54:00.000-05:00

Hello, dear readers. I'm breaking the silence again on a lazy off-day to post one of my final papers I wrote for my composition class last year. I won't say much about it, other than I'm interested in your thoughts, as always. Enjoy!

Peter Vanderhorst
Profile Paper
Composition I

Coffee as Drug

    There’s a doubt in my mind that anyone would want to admit that his/her life is controlled even somewhat by a little black bean. I know for a fact that I wouldn’t want to admit such an embarrassing thing about myself. How humbled would people be if they came to the realization that this is true? And yet…it is.
    As a college student, I must confess that I have, like many of my fellow students, often put my entertainment before my studying. And, like them, I have had to make up for that mistake with late nights and fewer hours of sleep. When I arrive on campus, though, a solution to a day full of yawns and sleepy eyes is available and appetizing: coffee, from either of my college’s two shops. I am saved.
    Coffee shops are traditionally a soothing environment where good drinks flow, happy memories are made, and homework can be finished without all the distractions that assail students elsewhere. I walked into Java Jazz, the main coffee shop on my campus, to ascertain whether those things were actually true. I spread out my schoolwork (miscellaneous unordered papers, laptop) on the table encircling a concrete pillar and surreptitiously took notes. Soothing environment? Artwork on the wall, soft lighting…Check. Music in keeping with the store? Yes (jazz, naturally). Tasteful decorations? Of course. I bought a non-bean beverage, having already drunk a large cup of dark roast Roasterie coffee that morning. I love coffee, but I didn’t feel like making the many trips to the men’s room that accompany downing a hot coffee. Having put all my paraphernalia in order, I sat and watched people flow in and out, listened to the voices of the cashiers and customers, and heard the irrelevant chit-chat the employees casually engaged in when not busy (“What are you doing tonight?). A coffee shop atmosphere is appealing in that it is comfortable and laid back. But amid that aura, I also glimpsed people who hurried in, got their coffee, and rushed out, clutching their newly-acquired caffeinated elixir. What drove them?
    I haven’t been drinking coffee for long compared to many people. The rules in my house said no coffee till age sixteen. Of course, I encountered coffee before then (contraband sips from a sibling’s cup, hurried gulps at a friend’s house, at weddings), but now that I have freedom to drink it in my own manner, I’m still not addicted to coffee. I don’t get headaches when I don’t have it, or jitters. But I know those who do, including family members: my grandmother drinks coffee daily, and admits to having headaches without it. My dad has had to wean himself off of coffee on some days to keep from being too dependent on it. My oldest brother rarely goes a day without at least one cup (usually more) of the drinkable “black gold.”
    Abigail Hofman, a self-professed coffee addict and former investment banker, explained how she felt about coffee: “To me, life was simply not worth living without coffee, but increasingly, I was feeling tired most of the time.” Many are addicted to coffee, knowingly or not. I interviewed Sarah, an employee at Java Jazz, who told me that there are some customers she sees who are “definitely” addicted.
    Sarah has been working at coffee shops for four years now, on and off. She loves her job most of the time, citing the atmosphere and pay as part of what makes a great place to work. We sat on a bench outside, pollen drifting lazily through the air to land on our heads, the sun shining through the trees in brilliant shafts of light. Coffee was on my mind, though; I asked her what she thought students would do if coffee was no longer offered on campus.
    “If there wasn’t coffee on campus, people would go elsewhere for coffee and food, taking business away from campus,” she postulated. Her perspective on people has changed from working in a coffee shop, seeing how self-centered people are and how much money they are willing to spend in their fixation to get their drink: “Even though the economy is in the hole, nobody is sacrificing their caffeine.” Trying to guess how much an average coffee “user” spent in one week, she guessed around $25 (one specialty coffee a day, at $4.50 + tax), coming up to $600 a semester, enough to send another student to school at JCCC for almost 9 credit hours in that same time period.
    Needless to say, coffee has become a controlling cog of our society. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but when a person is spending enough money on coffee yearly to start a small investment (between $250 and $1000 is enough to open a mutual fund), something is wrong. Much has been made of drug addictions; while coffee is not nearly as serious or harmful as most drugs, being addicted to coffee is not a healthy state to be in. College students are stereotyped as dependent on caffeine-based drinks, and I found in my online research that at least 50% of students use coffee to stay awake during all-nighters, by far the most often used eyelid-lifter.
    It is telling that our country is the most responsible for making coffee into a multi-billion dollar industry. In a consumer-driven, instant-gratification society, coffee has made itself into a giant with corporate power not many realize the extent of. Students, professors, businessmen, and ordinary citizens alike do not see coffee as the huge money-making success that it is. For several centuries coffee was regarded as a “cheap” drink, overshadowed by tea in the homes of the genteel and rich. Today, it is the drink of choice and necessity for millions and millions of ordinary people, both wealthy and poor.
    “Coffee is like fine wine, and those of us who have time and money are the best connoisseurs,” Sarah told me. Too often for their own health, people use coffee like a drug, drinking it to stay awake or get their next caffeine high. Coffee should be treated better than that, as something to savor and appreciate. Perhaps if people had that mindset instead of an energy-pill one, they could enjoy coffee like I do: rejoicing in its different flavors, letting the warmth flood over my tongue and down my throat, its aroma filling my nostrils.

How Flirting Ruined (almost) My Life

2010-06-11T23:19:00.000-05:00

       From the comments I got on what I should write about, most just said to write about them all. Thanks for the direction, folks. :) The one person who did tell me to write about something in particular (my life dream) is going to be shunned, because I don't feel like that one. Sorry, Jo. :) I'm writing about flirting because that's what I did and who I was, for years and years. So that's what you get.
       Nobody taught me the art of flirting (can you imagine elementary grade classes on the best ways to flirt? Strange thought.). I learned, like I have seen others learning. I figured things out for myself: what worked best, what didn't, when, where. My first attempts at flirting, looking back, were ineffective and comical. It's interesting to see the same methods being employed by many boys and girls today, as if it's something that every person has to go through, the different stages of flirting. Insulting girls as well being mean to them were my original tactics (a paradoxical and zero result approach...why was I surprised?). From there I moved on to more show-offishness, although that had been there with the cruel words . Being arrogant and judgmental isn't a good combination, and I ditched those methods as well. Now, if I tell you what worked, will you be good and not use them? Good. Because I hit pay dirt when I began taking good and desirable Christian qualities and using them to ingratiate myself with girls. It works to be nice. It works even better to listen to our female counterparts. That's the progression I underwent. I don't think I need to give you specific instances, as I'm sure many of my readers (who actually know me and have seen me in action) are having flashbacks of that Peter, or seeing him. I'm sorry. I'll give a full and heartfelt apology at the end.
     Of course, flirting is viewed as a normal and even attractive trait in the world's eyes. Let me tell you how it hindered and hurt me, as well as others. I don't want to blame my church, my parents, or friends; I was not taught to guard my heart. I was taught to help a girl guard her heart, to not defraud her, but never to "guard your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life." That's how I became such a flirt, and unaware of my flirtatiousness to the extent that the first time somebody told me I was a flirt I was angry with her for months. I wanted attention from girls, and I wanted it so much that I would do anything I could with any girl I thought I had a chance with and wanted a chance with to make her like and talk with me. My god was myself, and my drug was attention from girls. Some of my happiest times from those days were times when I felt certain a girl liked me and was getting attention from her that seemed to say that she did. The things that catapulted me into depression were the times when I felt unwanted or unliked by the girls whose attention I craved. Can you see how my spiritual life had no chance? I did good things and thought I was serving God, but I did them for the wrong reasons. I went to staff at summer camps, and flirted with the counselors. I did Backyard Bible Club primarily because of the closeness I felt with the girls who also did it. I was always looking, and I was never satisfied. Not until Jesus showed me that I wasn't valuing Him and couldn't be satisfied by anything else did I see how much of a god I had made girls' attention. Even after Jesus started becoming more real, my old habits (from years of practicing) influenced me to make wrong decisions and eventually get fired from a job that I loved and an opportunity that was great.
     The only reason I can write about this with honesty is because of the incredible mercy that Jesus shows me daily. His grace is why I can stop flirting, although it's still a battle. I have no idea the number of girls I have hurt, or how deeply. It hurts me to think about how much I have hurt them through my insensitivity and self-serving attitude. I don't know exactly how to say how much I regret my actions, and I wish I could remedy those hurts. The best way I know to gain joy and move on from pain is Jesus. Jesus is my one answer, the only answer, the true answer. And that's the only hope I have, and the only hope I can see healing the hurts that I have inflicted. Someday, when I write a book on flirting, I'll have a clearer perspective and be further removed from it. Until then, this will have to do, although it's nowhere near close to enough. Thoughts? Memories? Responses?

My poor blog.

2010-06-09T18:16:00.004-05:00

My poor blog. I have neglected you for so long. It's been a busy time, but I have no good excuse for you. I'm sorry. I have some posts waiting around in my mind, some ideas that are whirling in circles...here are some of them: A post on how flirting ruined (almost) my life, or something about the dozens of sermons I've listened to over the last few weeks, or a life dream, or a paper I wrote for comp. Thoughts?

Surprise-Jars of Clay

2010-05-03T17:43:00.000-05:00

Just listen.

Shoot a dream in your arm and sleep away
It's not the stuff that kills you, that keeps your life at bay
Every crash pulls you in reach
Of a watershed of signal flares that cover your beach

These are just placebos to make us feel all right
Illusions in our pockets make our feather float us high
For a second I thought I saw you eyelids rise
A moment, something restless caught you by surprise,
Surprise, surprise

We are so beautiful when we sleep
Hearts of gold and eyes so deep, deep, deep
But love won't cure the chaos
And hope won't hide the loss
And peace is not the heroine that shouts above the cause
And love is wild for reasons
And hope though short in sight
Might be the only thing that wakes you by surprise
Surprise, surprise

Dream little one
See the world just begun

Love is wild for reasons
And hope feels short in sight
Might be the only thing that brings you back to life
For a moment I thought I saw your eyelids rise

A short poem-Omar Khayyam

2010-04-22T11:54:00.000-05:00

It's been some time since I last posted some real poetry. Here's a quick one by Omar Khayyam, translated into this fantastic English:

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

Hope you enjoyed. Thoughts? Other favorite poetry and verses?

Moments of hilarity with the nephews

2010-04-13T20:44:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago we had the privilege of chauffeuring Aidan and Asher around. In the car, the following footage was taken. Laugh your head off. :)

http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CHSJC7rcHOY7GwsdC8b0LRFNE93LwIjWp1wPFjfKuUw?feat=directlink

From Phone pics and videos

Another quick one

2010-04-09T11:52:00.001-05:00

Following up on the shortest post in PMRL history, I am going to post only a slightly longer one.

Since I added Donald Miller's blog to my netvibes page, I've been enjoying his posts. They are motivating, encouraging, thought-provoking...and I recommend him to all of you. Lately he's been publishing excerpts from a re-release of his book, To Own A Dragon (which has some new passages and is now geared towards both men and women who grew up without dads). I'd be interested in my readers' thoughts on what he says men really want from women, and women really want from men. In a nutshell:

What Girls Want:

Girls don’t want a weak guy. People are insecure already, so they don’t want you to be insecure, too.
What I am not saying, though, is that you should act confident. Don’t act confident, be confident. Learn to be confident.
And they also like mystery. But it’s not really mystery they like, it’s strength.
Self pity is unattractive.

The rest of the post here (probably a good idea to read it all and form your opinions from that)

What Men Want:

“…Weakness isn’t attractive in either sex. Girls who pity themselves attract predators, not guys who care.
A woman who believes she is beautiful and cultivates that beauty
• A woman who is choosy.
A woman with a vision for her life.
Show some respect.

And here's the link for that post.

Thoughts? This turned into a longer post than I had speculated. :)

2010-04-06T17:49:00.001-05:00

Things in life happen altogether too fast.

A Love That Conquers(ed)

2010-03-28T23:49:00.000-05:00

There's a song by the Swell Season (an absolutely amazing band) called A Love That Conquers. It's a good song, but its message isn't as powerful as it could be if it were referring to THE love that conquers, has conquered, and does conquer: Jesus'. This is the truth that I need to remember every day, the one that has changed my life and will change my life more, the more I remember it.
There was a really great sermon given today at my church, by an amazing man who I am blessed to have as my brother. He talked about the passion of Jesus Christ, the pain that He went through because of the sins of all...or, more specifically, my sins. He said some things that I had never thought about before really. One of which was this thought, in my words: what Jesus experienced on the cross was not just the punishment for the sin of all...He experienced the personal hell of every single person who ever lived or would live. He was separated from His Father for the first time ever, a union that was stronger, healthier, and closer than any marriage could ever be. Rejection from the One He had always experienced complete communion with is the sacrifice that Jesus made for me, going through my hell along with the hells of every other person ever.
When Jesus finally uttered the words, "It is finished," He wasn't just saying that His life was ending. I think that more than that, He was proclaiming victory: IT IS FINISHED! All of my sins were cleansed in one act of intense pain, incredible love, deep humility, and utter separation. That love is the love that conquers, and there is no other. Only when that love loves through our sinful natures can we even come close to knowing what true life is all about.
Something Johnny said in another sermon is that the best life is the one that experiences God to biggest extent possible. That's what life is about, experiencing God. Through Jesus, we can do that, and see God's beauty in the first flowers of spring, the individual and unique snowflakes, the laughing faces of the ones we love, and all the other manifestations of the huge, infinite love that God has for us.

Music and Poetry Merged Into One

2010-03-21T20:14:00.000-05:00

It's been a long time since I've posted a poem. It will be a while longer. For now, as I take a short break from turning my brain to mush over college algebra homework, I will give you a taste, once again, of the Weakerthans. They are, as I've said before, one of the best bands out there these days as far as incorporating great lyrics and music. Whenever I listen to them I remember why I love them so much. As far as I know, this is the only band I've posted three times on here. Pretty high on the list of amazing bands, then. Definitely recommended. Especially if you're interested in checking out a Canadian band in the wake of the Olympics, which have suddenly faded as quickly as the hopes of the Kansas Jayhawks' hopes to win another national championship. Next year. :) Hope you enjoy this amazing song. It's an epitome of why I started this blog: it is poetry, music, and it's about real life. Please, do yourself a favor, humor me, and listen to this song. Then think about it.

A New Name For Everything

When the bus shelter windows and napkin-dispensers surprise
With distorted reflections, it's never the someone you're hoping to recognize.
And the rent is too high living here between reasons to live
Where you can't sleep alone and your memories groan and the borders of night start to give.
When you can't save cash or conviction; you're broke and you're breaking -
a tired shoelace or a wave.
So long past, past-due. A new name for everything.

When the one-ways collude with the map that you've folded wrong
And the route you abandoned is always the path you probably should be upon.
When the bottle-cap ashtrays and intimate's ears are all full
With results of your breath and the threads of your fear are unfurled with the tiniest pull.

One more time, try.
Stand with your hands in your pockets and stare at the smudge of a newspaper sky
And ask it to rain a new name for everything.

Fire every phrase. They don't want to work for us anymore.
Dot or Dash our days. Make your face the flag of a semaphore.

All you won't show.
The boxes you brought here and never unpacked are still patiently waiting to go.
So put on those clothes you never grew into and smile like you mean it for once.
If you come back, bring a new name for everything.

Josh Harris, the pastor

2010-03-12T10:40:00.000-06:00

I have read Joshua Harris before in the past and very much enjoyed his books geared towards singles (I Kissed Dating Goodbye, Boy Meets Girl, Not Even a Hint). For my birthday, my dad gave me his latest book, a more serious book on basic theology and why it matters: Dug Down Deep. It's been a pretty good read so far, although I haven't finished it yet due to procrastinating on it and not putting nearer to the top of my priority list, where it belongs. His introduction chapter is pretty gripping, though. Just to pique your interest. :)

In addition to starting that book, I've been downloading his sermons from his church's website, Covenant Life. He's a very good speaker. I'm optimistic that the sermons of his that I have heard will continue to impact me if I implement them in the way Christ intends his followers to do: acting on what we hear. Last night I finished "Holiness is a Harvest," which talks about how we sow what we reap, and we shouldn't be surprised that we aren't growing if we haven't put in the necessary work to get there. If we sow to flesh, we reap corruption. Some great food for thought. And, considering our church lifted our upcoming (some time this year...still not sure when) series on purity straight from Covenant Life's series a few years ago, it's good to get started thinking about some of the sermons from that series. A good question that came to mind during the sermon that seems pretty obvious but also important is this: "What am I sowing to? What things am I choosing now, and what will I reap?" Every choice is important.

Harris continues to grow, and in his growth encourages others to follow him in following God. That's what Christian life is all about: sharing with others the progress we make and learning from others' examples. Without observation and sharing, the Christian life would be close to impossible.

I may share one of my Composition 1 writing assignments on here after i get it back. Clue on subject matter: Memoir paper, about one of my long-lasting human role-models.

This song encapsulates the change that needs to take place in my life.

2010-03-02T23:21:00.001-06:00

And that was a very long-winded title that said basically everything I need to say. My mind is no good. I have filthied it for too long. It needs a baptizing. And I'd appreciate your prayers to aid me in that pursuit. Please pray that God will give me the strength to act. I need meditation, I need strength to say no, I need time in the Word.

Lyrics:

Reaching always reaching
Never reaching solid ground
Seeking always seeking
Never seeking what I've found

Hey, baptize my mind
Hey, baptize my eyes
Hey, baptize my mind
For these seeds to give birth to life
First it must die

Both my hands are filled with guilt
(Be my absolution)
Oh with my eyes are blind with filth
(Be my absolution, absolution)

Hey, baptize my mind
Hey, baptize my eyes
Hey, baptize my mind
For these seeds to give birth to life
First they must die

Hey, baptize my mind
Hey, baptize my eyes
Hey, baptize my mind
For these seeds to give birth to life
First they must die

Vending Machines

2010-02-17T10:26:00.000-06:00

Last night I lay awake for a while, unable to sleep. My mind continued to work, and I thought about how I am self-centered. And manipulative. And selfish. And how easy it is for me to try to get what I want out of people. And an image popped into my head: "I use people like vending machines. I try to give them the right combination of things so that I can get out of them what I want. I push the right buttons so that I can get what I want."

That's the way my thoughts went. Remarkably thoughtful for a brain that should be sleeping, yes? Perhaps that's why I couldn't sleep...my brain wasn't ready to stop thinking. And that thought was true. Too often, way too often, I try to get what I want out of people. Instead of seeing how I can give to others without ulterior motives, I look at people to see what I can get out of them, ready to do what I need to in order to get what I want.

This is all an "I" thing. I am selfish, self-centered, and sinful. Jesus commands me to love others, to do things for others without expecting anything in return. But I don't only do this with people. I do it with God as well.

A lot of this "vending machine" approach happens in my subconscious mind and actions. It is easy to go to God to get what I want. What I don't realize when I exhibit this kind of behavior towards God is that what I am really looking for is happiness and fulfillment that only God can give. I look at God like He is a vending machine, when He doesn't charge me anything and instead paid me, basically. He took away my sin and sacrificed His Son so that I don't have to look for something else. He is everything I need! If I could be in constant awareness of that truth, I don't think I would be as manipulative and self-centered as I tend to be.

Our subconscious thoughts and wants determine our actions. When I look at people as objects or how they can make me happy I am displaying a subconscious desire for "false gods." When I look at others as people to serve and give to, I display a heart that wants to obey God and is content in following Him.

Thoughts?

Perhaps I shouldn't post this late...

2010-02-05T00:04:00.000-06:00

Late at night, my thoughts often turn melancholy. It doesn't help when I am addicted to a band that is largely melancholy. And beautiful. And haunting. This has been my favorite band for about two months now. They are incredible. And you're already heard a song of theirs on this blog. But this song is better than the previous one I shared. This one, called Alone Apart, by the Swell Season, offers a grain of hope, amidst sadness and pain and apologies.

I think I'll actually break down the lyrics of this song, something I do not do normally. Here they are, with comments of mine included throughout:

How many times have I been here
How many times was I lost
And how many times I'd be lost in the sea
If you weren't there to rescue me

The singer realizes again how often they have been in this place of being lost, only to be rescued by the person this song is written to. It's too easy to forget how much other people do for us. Until we are in the depths of the pit again, and we realize again how many times we have been in the exact or same position.

We're sailing, sailing every night
We're drifting, drifting alone apart
Not to show that we're in need
But I'd heal your wounds if you bleed

Next Marketa Irglova (half of the Swell Season and star in the movie Once) voices something that changes perspective: they are slowly moving apart from each other, becoming more and more alone. It's not too show that they have needs; there is something else that is causing the rift (isn't "rift" a beautiful, haunting word?). Irglova still cares deeply for whatever person this song is sung to; when a breakdown or wound happens, she will take care of them and "heal" their wounds.

How many times have I hurt you
How many times have you
And how many times I'd been on my knees
Begging, begging please forgive me

Next she realizes how much pain she has given, and how much she has received. She dives into her mind to remember how many times she has asked for forgiveness (a positive thing!). Pain is inevitable in any long-term, deep relationship. Forgiveness is necessary for success.

We're sailing, sailing every night
We're drifting, drifting alone apart
Not to show that we're in need
But I'd heal your wounds if you bleed

Chorus again. See above comments.

Thank you for being so patient with me
I've been weaker than I ought to be
Despair and jealousy blinded my mind
And I couldn't see how you're trying for me.

The song ends on hope, and admitting that there is still work to do. She realizes that she has been jealous and hopeless, weak and headstrong. She expresses her gratitude for the patience and effort expended in the middle of her problems. The song doesn't exactly resolve. It ends.

You could take this song and do a lot of things with it: point out that this is how we are with God, that we do not realize our need many times until we are in trouble, that we do not listen to Him and stray. Or you could realize that life is running on a parallel line as our eternal life with God. There will be times when this song is probably very true in your life. I think it shows that the right attitude is asking for forgiveness, and admitting that there is a need. And finally, to hope.

Song below.

Music-Other Lives

2010-01-17T23:56:00.000-06:00

I'm overdue on a music post, although those posts rarely get comments. They bring in the visitors, though. Got to keep everybody happy.

Today we focus on a newer band, Other Lives. They have released one full-length album which is self-titled. They blend beautiful strings with haunting melodies and well-thought out lyrics. Definitely recommended. I'll post one of the two songs of theirs that I have heard, E Minor. I am hereby resolving to listen to more of Other Lives. They deserve it.

Lyrics:

I forgot something of younger days when there were no cares
Clouds appear lit that made me ask how their lives could have been spent

Carelessly wasting our days
Inquires of what is the way
With no reply

When you were young there's a lightness around you, the world turns
But when you take back all the things that you've earned you find nothing at all

Carelessly wasting our days
Inquires of what is the way
With no reply

Where did it go now
All that you thought was worth a fight
It's all but become just
A passing thought in spite

Don't let it go now
Our lives could be much more than this
Let go and find it

A New Year. Blah blah blah.

2010-01-11T16:23:00.001-06:00

Most peoples' inaugural post in 2010 looks something like this: I want to do this. Or: Last year I did this. Not many of the blogs I have read this year have inspired me or interested me much. Except for one. By one of my favorite authors. Yes. You're right. Donald Miller. I got his newest book for Christmas, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. He's more mature and thoughtful than before, and his life is so much more interesting. The main point of his new book is to do things that create a good story, or a great one. Before two moviemakers approached him about making Blue Like Jazz into a movie, Miller's life was boring and uneventful. He sat around, was fat and lazy, and wrote because he needed money. After meeting with the filmmakers and being told his life was too boring for a movie, his life changed. He hiked the Incan trail in Peru, biked across America, fell in love, and basically transformed his life by thinking about how he wanted his life to be a good story, or, essentially, living a good story.

For the details and a taste of Miller's great writing, read the book. I said all of that to say that Don's new year's post is the only one that inspires me to do anything or piqued my interest. He encourages his readers in his book and through his blog to do whatever it takes to make good memories and do big things. Here's a quote from his post (which comes in two parts):

"Scenes in coffee shops are boring. Movies should be memorable, visual, exciting and different. Now I see it in movies all the time. Writers place characters on top of buildings, in beautiful parks, on busses that bend like an accordions in the middle and so on. Anything to make the scene more memorable, and thus the dialogue more meaningful.

The same principle is true in life. Many of the scenes in your life you remember best were the times you jumped off bridges or smoked a pipe on the roof. "

Miller then went on to give four pointers on how to create memorable scenes. Really, this is just a plug for him, I guess, but this is what resonated with me.

Say yes to awkwardness.
Take the conversation to a different place.
Don't be embarrassed.
Don't be afraid to get wet, cold, dirty, or hot.

He expounds on all of those points, and really, the best thing to do is to read his posts. Here and here.

I want to take his advice and write down some things that I want to do this year. Then I need to create an inciting event to make myself do them. I think, though, that I will have to put some thought into what I want to do. Because before I can do all of the really big things that I want to do, like driving all of Route 66 (Cars inspired me), I need some money. Which requires a job or a rich relative dying and leaving me all their money, of which I have neither.

But keep me accountable, okay? I need some people to bring along with me on whatever adventures I will undertake this year.

This post is my take on New Years'. I don't really go much for New Year's resolutions. They never really work. Once I decided to stop biting my fingernails at New Years. It has decreased, but there is still progress to be made. :) So. This is why I want to live a better story. I am tired of wanting to do things and never doing them. Donald Miller changed his life and his story by forcing himself to do things and telling people what he was going to do.

This is my attempt at that.

Late night thoughts from the slouch on the couch...

2009-12-23T00:15:00.000-06:00

I have been realizing lately a lot of things about myself. Some things are little, others insignificant, others painful, all the product of having tons of time to think about myself. Two days before Christmas now, and I think I have just enough brain power left in me tonight to post some fragments that have been floating around in my brain.

Fragments like this:

*I love to use "....."s They are fun. And a good way to drift off into nothingness. Now, when I am talking to you in person, text, email, twitter, and you notice a pause, there is an unwritten ellipsis there. Whoops, you know my secret now. Oh well...
*I have a natural tendency to be gloomy, depressed, depressing, discouraging, etc. And I am in a dangerous place, because something in me likes to be in that state. Maybe it's because of the attention I get from acting that way, maybe it's because gloominess has a lot of music that goes great with it, but I have been "down" a lot this year. It's definitely because I am a sinful person.
*The times when I am not down are the times when I get my eyes off of myself and on God, and through that on others. The times when I am not focused on myself are the times when I am happiest. And I am happiest when I am making others happy. Even in my "Scrooge" or Eeyore mindsets, making people like my nephews laugh makes me happy.
*I love music. This is not a new revelation. I especially love great music: music that blends artistic instrumentation with well-written words that I can identify with. I will give an example of music like this at the end of this post.
*I get annoyed with people too easily. Way too easily. I think sometimes that I have my emotions and feelings under control and don't realize how wrong I am. When somebody talking too loud gets on my nerves, something is wrong.
*I have an amazing family, no matter how many things are going wrong. I will never fully realize how blessed I am, just like I can never really understand what God has done and is doing for me.
*I am not a very thankful person. It's easy for me to see ungratefulness in others, but I am just as guilty myself.
*I am a sucker for interesting words. Like introspection. Reverberate. Etcetera. Magnetic. That's what words are to me...and perhaps this is why
*I could spend my life in bookstores around the world. I am haunted by the allure of books, music, movies...and this is why I am a shameless Half Price Books addict. I think I have been in a Half Price Books store at least three, maybe 6 times in the last week. And spent a lot of money there, too. I am not just a browser. I am a consumer.
*I care what people think about me. A lot. I will hopefully address this more in another post, but this is the reason that I am deeply saddened when people don't like music I love, when people make fun of me, when I don't fit in or am no longer part of a group or a friendship I have known my whole life.
*I need God. This is what I need the most and forget the most.
*I hate exercise without purpose, or exercise simply for the purpose of exercising. I need a game or sport to occupy my attention and brain.
*I am not going to show you the contents of my thoughts any more tonight.

Here's a song like I was talking about. It's from a beautiful movie called Once (rated R for lots of language) which has an amazing story and incredible music. Highly recommended. However, I am claiming ownership of having found this band in my family: The Swell Season. They are my most listened music currently. There is not a lot of hope in their music, but their most well-known song is probably one that a lot of whoever is reading this blog can identify with: Falling Slowly. Enjoy. And merry Christmas. Maybe I will write a post about Jesus' sacrifice another time.

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along

Switching things up...

2009-12-12T23:12:00.000-06:00

I thought I'd vary the patterns around here and post some pretty sweet quotes from a wide spectrum of people and ideas. And then you can post favorite quotes in the comment section, and it will be fun. Perhaps I'll do some elaborating on some of these quotes, too, but I think I'll just see what keys my fingers hit and go from there.

We'll start off with quotes from a series of movies...try and name them:

"No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, the ones I love will always be the ones who pay…"

"If promises were crackers, my daughter would be fat."

"Whatever comes our way... whatever battle is raging inside us, we always have a choice. My friend ___ taught me that. He chose to be the best of himself. It’s the choices that make us what we are... and we can always choose to do what's right."

What movie series is that from? I inserted quotes from all of the movies in the series. :)

Here are a good few from Ben Franklin:

“If you would not be forgotton as soon as you are dead and rotten, Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”

“You may delay, but time will not.”

“Half a truth is often a great lie.”

“Search others for their virtues, thy self for thy vices”

“What makes resisting temptation difficult for many people, is that they don't want to discourage it completely.”

“Many a man thinks he is buying pleasure, when he is really selling himself to it.”

And then one from J.R.R. Tolkien:

“Not all those who wander are lost.”

A quote post would not be complete without C.S. Lewis:

“God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.”

Even Robert Louis Stevenson has good things to say:

“The cruelest lies are often told in silence.”

I could go on for a long time with quotes, because God has granted men to think and say some beautiful things. But it's late, and I still have things to do. I think it would be fun if we had a comment sextion on this one and talked about our favorite quotes, so feel free to leave favorite quotes in comments, comment on quotes I put out, and name the movies the first quotes are from. But let's end with this quote:

The most exciting happiness is the happiness generated by forces beyond your control. -Ogden Nash

A Thought Went Up My Mind To-Day

2009-12-10T23:43:00.000-06:00

I don't think I've posted Emily here before. And I don't think I've really posted poetry on here for a while either. There is another post inside my head, too...has to do with another thing we have been created for. But it's not ready yet, and I need to appease my avid readership. :) So I give you Emily.She is pretty amazing and there isn't any other poet that writes with the same style of verve. So I hope you like this poem by her. Supposedly, this posthumously famous poet captures the unhealthy adulation of millions of guys who read poetry...I can somewhat see why, but she hasn't gotten me yet. :) So, without further ado, I present:

A Thought Went Up My Mind To-Day
Emily Dickinson

A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish,--some way back,
I could not fix the year,

Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.

But somewhere in my soul, I know
I've met the thing before;
It just reminded me--'t was all--
And came my way no more.

Created For Worship

2009-11-30T11:36:00.000-06:00

C.S. Lewis, in his amazing and incomparable The Screwtape Letters, states something that I believe to be very true. In case you aren't familiar with that work, it is (fiction) a series of letters from a senior demon to a lesser demon instructing him how to tempt a new Christian. With that introduction, here is the quotation:

"Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in its healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy's ground. I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His invention, not ours. He made all the pleasures: all our research so far has not enabled us to produce one. All we can do is to encourage the humans to take pleasures which our Enemy has produced, at times, or in ways, or in degrees, which He has forbidden. Hence we always try to work away from the natural condition of any pleasure to that in which it is least natural, least redolent of its Maker, and least pleasurable."

What Lewis says there is that Satan has no power to create sin. The only thing that he can do is pervert the things that God made for us, to dazzle us, to show His love to us, into things that change what God meant for good into things that we seek instead of God. Think about that.

Humans were created for worship; this is why we are always looking for something to make us happy, to follow, to get attention, to capture our interest. We were created to be awestruck by the incredible beauty of a God who made a star billions of times bigger than the earth, and we stare at and are instead transfixed by pictures of naked fellow humans, shots of an addicting drug, nicotine, sex, blood, power, money...Can you see the horribleness of what we all engage in daily?

What God created to show us how much He loves us we have transformed (with Satan's help and guidance) into many things that can instead replace God in our lives. We become addicted to drugs that cannot last. The pleasure will never, ever, last long enough for us. I think we're all addicted to something, whether we realize it or not. We just view some addictions more seriously than others, and rightly so. But we can also be addicted to attention of others, addicted to the feelings we get when others say good things about us, addicted to food, sex, money, power. If we look closely, I think we should all be able to see at least one thing in our lives that we are addicted to and worship, sometimes subconsciously. The horrible thing is that we can tell God we love Him and want to honor Him and serve ourselves and our wants at the same time, being double-minded. This is the result of a sinful nature, but blaming our sin on that isn't the route to freedom. I have to accept the consequences for choices I make, and nobody else makes those choices for me.

The only way to conquer addiction is to be addicted something better. There is only one addiction better than all of the things we worship instead of that one, and you all know what that is. We need to be addicted to God, and the love and life He alone can give. It's not an easy thing, and I am in no way far along that path. I need to learn to love God and hate sin as much as anybody in the world. These are just the musings of an addicted human being who will only break free with supernatural intervention. It's a good thing that God promises to intervene, and has.

Jesus is here! Love has come!

We were created for worship. It is in our nature and being to worship something. What are you worshiping? Who are you worshiping? Jesus is the Author, Perfecter, and Star of the show. He deserves so much more than I can give, and yet I don't even give Him everything I have to give. This post is a challenge more to me than many of you.

Left and Leaving

2009-11-23T09:38:00.000-06:00

I'm breaking my long silence again, obviously. I thought I would let my subscribers/readers know what is going on in my life, albeit not completely. :)
From late August to the first week of November, I worked for Novo Ministries, a non-profit, non-denominational group in Oklahoma City that does amazing work for the inner city kids of that city through Bible Clubs during the school year and two weeks of camp in the summer. I graduated from high school in July, and headed down there less than two months later, leaving behind friends, family, school (yes!), and everything I had known. Without knowing it or thinking about it, I was taking the advice of Donald Miller, one of my favorite authors. In one of his books, Through Painted Deserts, he talks about the trip he took across the country, away from everything and everybody he had known. In the preface, this is what he says:

"It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.
I want to repeat one word for you:
Leave.
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed."

This summer, I found God, in a way I had never experienced before. And God wanted me to go to Oklahoma. I went, and saw God some more, and got to know some really amazing people and really needy kids, and made some mistakes, too. Because of those mistakes, I am back here. And it's true, what Donald Miller says, that I am changed, and everything else has stayed mostly the same. Everything is still here. I am different. Nobody really understands what was my life for months, and I can't and shouldn't expect them to, because they weren't there.

I'm thankful for the time I had there, really thankful. I think and hope I left everything with everybody down there on the best terms I could. I'd like to go back, but right now, I am back in Kansas City, and I know that God has plans for me here now too. I think a lot of His plan right now is for me to grow in serving and trusting. I don't have a job, and I'm not in school, so obviously I have a lot of down time. I am necessarily having to stick around my house and my family a lot, and there's not much for me to do other than serve them, so this is good for me.

I left, and ended up leaving what I went when I left.

Here's an amazing song by the Weakerthans of the same name.

Lyrics:

My city's still breathing (but barely it's true)
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you,
sparkled with broken glass.
I'm back with scars to show.
Back with the streets I know
Will never take me anywhere but here.
The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand,
the strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say " I wanted it this way"
Wait for the year to drown.
Spring forward, fall back down.
I'm trying not to wonder where you are.
All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose who's left and who's leaving.
Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:
a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest,
the best parts of Lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires,
new words for old desires,
and every birthday card I threw away.
I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines that your relying on will lead you home.

Text messages, volleyball, halloween.

2009-11-02T22:22:00.001-06:00

I drove to the gym on a beautiful day, the 31st of October, All Hallow's Eve. I got there early, sitting in my red monster outside waiting for the side door of the YMCA to be propped open so the illegal activity could begin. I messed around on my phone waiting until the time to start came, and then it came. As the sun set, the games began, on the last day of the month, on the last day of the old time.
Setting foot inside of the gym, I noticed it was unusually bare of the regular players. And I had thought Halloween was for little kids. The games began and ended. At the end of what made a game, the players walked underneath the net, following protocol. I watch as we all walk like zombies for our cell phones to check our addicting texting habits and whatever else comes our way. I had never thought I would be one of the mindless mob who move through life staring at a 3 inch screen. I have become one, an undead walking among my fellow undead. The lights of those who aren't infected by the disease are growing dimmer and fewer. What has become of us, the sad people who stumble through life following whatever trend is new, whatever style is next, whatever drug is pleasurable? Why can't we see how enslaved we are? Could we make it through a week without a text? Are you aware of what you have become? The facts are sobering when seen for what they are.

Into the Valley of Death...

2009-10-29T23:11:00.000-05:00

This is one of the poems I grew up on...the rhythm and repetitiveness are effective and part of what makes it a great classic poem. Think about it...

Charge of the Light Brigade-Alfred Lord Tennyson
"Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!” he said.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Some one had blunder’d.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder’d.
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not,
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

Sometimes the best thing to do is do something and not think about how stupid it seems. There is Somebody who knows what He is doing in charge, even when it seems like a mistake.

20 Days, 90 hours (or more) of work later

2009-10-10T13:45:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry, dear friends. That's all. No more explaining why I haven't kept you regularly updated on everything that is happening down here. When I get my camera back, I will show you some pictures of my new place, because, yes, I live in an apartment now, with a guy named Nathan. He is pretty cool. We have two leather couches, are getting a bookshelf today, a gas fire and stove, and are living the single guys' life. Thursday or Wednesday night we had frozen pizza (we cooked it on the cardboard it came on and burnt it after we didn't cook it enough. Then I burnt my finger taking it out. Fun times.) and watched 2 Fast 2 Furious. I like the first movie better. I have also watched Toy Story 1 and 2 this week. Perhaps that's some of the reason why I haven't been updating here. Something in a long day at work makes it hard to get up the resolve to write a post of substance on here. However, since last night I stayed up till after 3 and didn't get up till 11:30ish, I think I have enough energy and time to give some to you. :)
I have found a pretty cool church to go to. It's called Trinity International Baptist Church. They are in the midst of some serious turnover, in an attempt to become more outwardly focused and fulfilling the great commission. No, there aren't any churches down here that are anything close to a GCC church, but I have resigned myself to that. Trinity is pretty cool. So far I'm not too involved in that, but we will see what happens.
I go to work in the mornings at 9ish, and the workday is over three days at six. The other two days, Tuesday and Thursday, are super long days. Currently I go to six Bible Clubs. Here is the schedule:
Monday:NO CLUBS!!!
Tuesday:Providence in the afternoon (small club), Nottingham in the evening (bigger club. Around thirty kids.) I don't finish work on Tuesdays until around 8:30.
Wednesday: Sooner Haven. It's a pretty big club, around 30 on a good day, but potentially more.
Thursday: Tulakes. HUGE club. We have 150 or so kids with permission slips, and have averaged around 100-something regularly. In the evening, I coordinate Falls Creek. It is going to be challenging, as there are a lot of problem kids there. Thursdays I also don't finish till after 8.
Friday: Oak Grove! I love this club, because I know a lot of the kids there from camp over the years. They say I'm temporary there, but I really hope not.

That's the lineup of clubs throughout the week, but that's not all I do. I'm also in charge of packing snacks for all of the clubs, which isn't horrible. I have my own snack room, which is my domain.

I like having keys that are mine. They make me feel powerful.

I haven't posted music in a long time. I'm going to post some. This is a song by Brandi Carlile. It's a good one. Let me know what you think.

Lyrics:

Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods?
And everything there feels just as it should
You're part of the life there
You're part of something good
If you've ever wandered lonely through the woods
if you've ever wandered lonlely through the woods

Have you ever stared into a starry sky?
Lying on your back you're asking why
What's the purpose I wonder who am I
If you've ever stared into a starry sky
Have you ever stared into a starry sky

Have you ever been out walking in the snow?
Tried to get back to where you were before
You always end up not knowing where to go
If you've ever been out walking in the snow
If you'd ever been out walking you would know

Ogden Nash wise words

2009-09-20T22:13:00.000-05:00

Hello readers! I don't feel motivated to write a "deep" post, so let's have some fun with Ogden Nash, a genius with words who has no equal in his field, which only contains him. Without further ado:

Oh To Be Odd! by Ogden Nash

Hypochondriacs
Spend the winter at the bottom of Florida and the summer on top of
the Adirondriacs.
You go to Paris and live on champagne wine and cognac
If you're dipsomognac.
If you're a manic-depressive
You don't go anywhere where you won't be cheered up, and people say
"There, there!" if your bills are excessive.
But you stick around and work day and night and night and day with
your nose to the sawmill.
If you're nawmill.

Introspective Reflection by Ogden Nash

I would live all my life in nonchalance and insouciance
Were it not for making a living, which is rather a nouciance.

A Word to Husbands by Ogden Nash
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.

What Almost Every Woman Knows Sooner Or Later by Ogden Nash

Husbands are things that wives have to get used to putting up with.
And with whom they breakfast with and sup with.
They interfere with the discipline of nurseries,
And forget anniversaries,
And when they have been particularly remiss
They think they can cure everything with a great big kiss,
And when you tell them about something awful they have done they just
look unbearably patient and smile a superior smile,
And think, Oh she'll get over it after a while.
And they always drink cocktails faster than they can assimilate them,
And if you look in their direction they act as if they were martyrs and
you were trying to sacrifice, or immolate them,
And when it's a question of walking five miles to play golf they are very
energetic but if it's doing anything useful around the house they are
very lethargic,
And then they tell you that women are unreasonable and don't know
anything about logic,
And they never want to get up or go to bed at the same time as you do,
And when you perform some simple common or garden rite like putting
cold cream on your face or applying a touch of lipstick they seem to
think that you are up to some kind of black magic like a priestess of Voodoo.
And they are brave and calm and cool and collected about the ailments
of the person they have promised to honor and cherish,
But the minute they get a sniffle or a stomachache of their own, why
you'd think they were about to perish,
And when you are alone with them they ignore all the minor courtesies
and as for airs and graces, they uttlerly lack them,
But when there are a lot of people around they hand you so many chairs
and ashtrays and sandwiches and butter you with such bowings and
scrapings that you want to smack them.
Husbands are indeed an irritating form of life,
And yet through some quirk of Providence most of them are really very
deeply ensconced in the affection of their wife.

Hi.

2009-09-11T19:59:00.000-05:00

I think maybe this is getting out of fashion, but once again, I apologize for not posting in what seems like forever. Maybe someday you'll understand. :) First off, I never realized how much time a full-time job required. :) I'm busy, and when I get home from work nights, I don't feel like sitting down and writing a blog post, even when it's to my beloved readers. The weekends haven't yet been normal, as I've been her for only two so far, the first weekend my first here, and the second weekend kept me busy doing homework and hanging out with friends. So. I'm here, on a Friday night, taking some time to tell you that I'm not going to post the continuation of the series I started 3-4 weeks ago. No, I don't have the inspiration for that...instead, I'm posting something I wrote recently that I hope you will enjoy. Soon I hope to post more about my summer, my current life, and trademark PMRL posts, such as poetry and music posts. :) Until then, let me know what you think about this. I call it the Propper-upper:

Lying here on the bed, propping up more than just my frame on the frame, I think about how things were just 5 days ago, days that seem forever ago. Why do things that are good for us always seem to be so hard? The fan whirls in unending circles, forcing the pages of the calendar to move away from the wall, and back towards it again, over and over. Is that what will happen to us? Will we get close, and be pushed away? Will we always “beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past?” No, we won’t, but right now it’s easy to listen to the lies of discontentment in my head, to think about how much better it could be right now. I know what I need to do, to remember Who it is who “keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love Him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations.” Too many times I’m absorbed in the “I,” and forget the “You.” You are the One who loves perfectly, forgives completely, and will never, ever, change. My life will change, my situations will change, but if I find my meaning in You, I can be content in that, knowing that where I am is where You have me.

The Best Summer Ever

2009-08-19T12:53:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the prolonged absence of words. Not that I believe in excuses, but here are a few if you do:
1. This summer has been the busiest of my life. Since my last post, I've been on a mission trip to my own city, a trip to Oklahoma City for a week of day camps/fun days/whatever they are, and a trip to Indiana for a singles conference. This weekend, I'm leaving again, but for longer: My job starts Monday. Yay!
2. I got a new laptop! Yay! I also have a blocker for my laptop, to help me stay pure and not look at things I shouldn't. Consequently, that blocker blocked my blog, grooveshark, and a variety of other sites I was in the habit of using. Today has been the first day I've been able to go to my blog since my last post.

And so I'm sure you're curious as to how this has been the best summer in my entire long life of 18 years. (Yes, I'm 18, if you didn't know somehow) It's a long story, but an amazing one, because of who God is, and who He showed Himself to be. I might have to split it up into at least four parts. In fact, I think I'll do that.

So. Today's post will cover the first big thing that happened, although you've already heard some about it: camp. While I was an amazing summer camp for inner city kids from Oklahoma City, God showed me how real He is, how He speaks, and how powerful He is when we are willing to admit our own need. His love was showered on me, and it was so encouraging to be able to trust in Him and see it fulfilled. In His Word, and through fellow brothers and sisters in Him, I met God in Oklahoma like I'd never met Him before. To be in a place where the stars were amazing, and His creation was all around me, was ideal in growing and learning to enjoy God. So. That's the first thing God taught me this summer: to trust in Him, and rejoice in His power.

I haven't posted a poem in a long time.

2009-07-19T17:23:00.000-05:00

And now I will. My friend Amelia gave me a book of poems by Billy Collins, and I read it...it's really good. I like him, even though he doesn't rhyme. On Mother's Day, Donald Miller posted a poem by Collins that I liked a lot...that was my first exposure to him, in a poem called the Lanyard. I'd recommend reading it...I almost posted it here, but I decided against it in favor of posting The Trouble With Poetry. It's a good poem, and it's a good representation of how Collins writes. Without further typing:

The Trouble With Poetry

The trouble with poetry, I realized
as I walked along a beach one night --
cold Florida sand under my bare feet,
a show of stars in the sky --

the trouble with poetry is
that it encourages the writing of more poetry,
more guppies crowding the fish tank,
more baby rabbits
hopping out of their mothers into the dewy grass.

And how will it ever end?
unless the day finally arrives
when we have compared everything in the world
to everything else in the world,

and there is nothing left to do
but quietly close our notebooks
and sit with our hands folded on our desks.

Poetry fills me with joy
and I rise like a feather in the wind.
Poetry fills me with sorrow
and I sink like a chain flung from a bridge.

But mostly poetry fills me
with the urge to write poetry,
to sit in the dark and wait for a little flame
to appear at the tip of my pencil.

And along with that, the longing to steal,
to break into the poems of others
with a flashlight and a ski mask.

And what an unmerry band of thieves we are,
cut-purses, common shoplifters,
I thought to myself
as a cold wave swirled around my feet
and the lighthouse moved its megaphone over the sea,
which is an image I stole directly
from Lawrence Ferlinghetti --
to be perfectly honest for a moment --

the bicycling poet of San Francisco
whose little amusement park of a book
I carried in a side pocket of my uniform
up and down the treacherous halls of high school.

My blog is really popular, and Jon Foreman is really good

2009-07-11T16:09:00.000-05:00

So, after I posted Regina Spektor's new song, Laughing With, I've gotten a huge influx of visitors. As a result, I'm happy to say my blog has now had more than 2000 pageloads since it's origin in January. Thank you, all of those who contributed to that. It's encouraging to know that people read what I write, even if they just come to my blog because I posted a really good song. Here's a graphic of my blog traffic from the last few months, thanks to Statcounter:

It's July 10th, and already the traffic from this month is larger than last month's totals. I think by the end of July, I'll probably have a new high in pageloads/visits.

Also...I'm going away again, this time only for a week. Have a fun time on the blog! Try listening to all the music in the sidebar widget...it's good stuff.

And now, I'll post the song I talked about in my last post. I bought Jon Foreman's cd, Limbs and Branches, with a Borders card I got for my graduation party. It was basically the exact amount I had on the card, so it was pretty cool how that worked out. And I like the whole cd a whole bunch; there are no songs that aren't up to par with the rest of the cd, and it's a contemplative album as well. Foreman has different styles, for sure. If you're familiar with Switchfoot, Foreman's main band, this music is completely different than that.
Anyway, this song from that cd, Instead of a Show, resonated with me. It's a call that's been around for a long time: stop being hypocritical and showy, and get to work addressing what's wrong with the world. I hope you like it.

Here are the lyrics:
I hate all your show and pretense
The hypocrisy of your praise
The hypocrisy of your festivals
I hate all your show
Away with your noisy worship
Away with your noisy hymns
I stomp on my ears when you're singing 'em
I hate all your show

Instead let there be a flood of justice
An endless procession of righteous living, living
Instead let there be a flood of justice
Instead of a show

Your eyes are closed when you're praying
You sing right along with the band
You shine up your shoes for services
There's blood on your hands
You turned your back on the homeless
And the ones that don't fit in your plan
Quit playing religion games
There's blood on your hands

Instead let there be a flood of justice
An endless procession of righteous living, living
Instead let there be a flood of justice
Instead of a show
I hate all your show

Let's argue this out
If your sins are blood red
Let's argue this out
You'll be one of the clouds
Let's argue this out
Quit fooling around
Give love to the ones who can't love at all
Give hope to the ones who got no hope at all
Stand up for the ones who can't stand at all, all
I hate all your show
I hate all your show
I hate all your show
I hate all your show

Instead let there be a flood of justice
An endless procession of righteous living, living
Instead let there be a flood of justice
Instead of a show
I hate all your show

Summer camps and new beginnings

2009-07-07T15:56:00.000-05:00

I really want to post a song again, but I think I've been cheating my readers lately and just doing that since my return from Oklahoma. So I'll make good on my promise to post about camp and save the song post for another time. It's a great song, though, so make sure and listen to it when I post it.
So...camp was about learning to trust God. Because that's what I had to do. And I think I learned something: it's easier, so much easier, to trust God with my problems, than to try to solve them myself. So many times, I had a kid who wouldn't behave, or a problem that seemed so huge, but God reminded me that He was the one who holds the answers to every question, every problem, and every need.
And Jesus and God were my encouragement, too. He showed Himself to be stronger than my problems, and also to be aware of them. A kid would come up and give me a gift they'd made for me, or one of my favorite kids would give me one of her two ice pops during free time, or my friends would listen to my problems and pray for me, or I'd get a smile that forced me to smile back. The theme of camp was Jesus as the Ultimate Hero, and He showed Himself to be that to me, through the skits that focused on Jesus' life, through the testimonies of fellow counselors, and through the worship that focused on His power. Jesus is my hero now, more than ever.
If you have questions about camp format or whatever, just ask them, but I think I've had enough talking...time to post some pictures. To protect the kids, I'm not going to post any names, or where they were, because those are the guidelines we have. These kids are so needy...pray for them, please.

Alright. Here are pictures.

Regina Spektor-Laughing With

2009-07-03T14:24:00.001-05:00

Alright, so I'm totally stealing this post from Joshua Harris, who posted basically the same thing I'm about to. There's a new song by Regina Spektor that is really good. It talks about how nobody laughs at God when it's a serious situation, but when life is good, people do. So. Let me know what you think:

Here are the lyrics:

"Laughing With" Lyrics:

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing or so very poor

No one laughs at God when the doctor calls after some routine tests
No one's laughing at God when it's gotten real late and their kid's not back from that party yet

No one laughs at God when their airplane starts to uncontrollably shake
No one's laughing at God when they see the one they love hand in hand with someone else and they hope that they're mistaken
No one laughs at God when the cops knock on their door and they say "We've got some bad new, sir,"
No one's laughing at God when there's a famine, fire or flood

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party while listening to a good God-themed joke or
Or when the crazies say he hates us and they get so red in the head you think that they're about to choke

God can be funny
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie
Who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus

God can be so hilarious
Ha ha
Ha ha

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war
No one's laughing at God when they've lost all they got and they don't know what for

No one laughs at God on the day they realize that the last sight they'll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes
No one's laughing at God when they're saying their goodbyes

But God can be funny
At a cocktail party while listening to a good God-themed joke or
Or when the crazies say he hates us and they get so red in the head you think that they're about to choke

God can be funny
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way
And when presented like a genie
Who does magic like Houdini
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus

God can be so hilarious

No one laughs at God in a hospital
No one laughs at God in a war

No one's laughing at God in a hospital
No one's laughing at God in a war

No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing or so very poor

No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
We're all laughing with God

Laughing With by Regina Spektor from the album Far

A picture/video post to pass the time...

2009-07-01T10:55:00.000-05:00

So, I still need some time to get the rest of my pictures and decide what I'm going to say about Oklahoma. I'll just say now that it was an amazing time, and I felt and feel closer to God than ever before. And for more than that, you'll have to wait for a later post.
For now, I'll post some pictures and a video of my nephews...I visited my oldest brother and sister-in-law and their two sons (almost three) on Monday, in their new homestead...which is really awesome. I hadn't gotten to see it before, but I like it a lot. And I took pictures. Still have yet to see kids as cute as these ones, except me when I was a baby. :) So, here's what they look like, and what they do. Asher is the one with the blond hair, and Aidan's the one with brown. Aidan is three and Asher is 1, but he's turning two in October.

Okay. I can't resist. Jars of Clay's new album has some VERY good songs on it. And I love this one. So, if you get this in feedblitz, you need to come here and listen to this song. It's called Safe To Land:

Here are the lyrics:

Getting tired from all this circling
Not much grace left on a broken wing
I feel the wind trying to push me down
It happens every time I get to town

I search for shelter near the mines we swept
I guess forgiveness hasn’t happened yet
There are no words that I can say to you
That turn this careless sky from black to blue
So I’m asking you is it safe? Is it safe to land?
‘Cuz I’m not going far on an empty heart
Is it safe? Is it safe to land? It’s the long fall back to earth is the hardest part

I’m in no weather for apologies
I need your runway lights to burn for me
And if you say that I can come around
I’ll love you right, yea I won’t let you down, I won’t let you down

‘Cuz I’m coming home, if these wheels touch down
I’m coming home I’m waking you up in the middle of the night I’m not giving up
I’m gonna stay ‘til we make it work
We’re not going down even if it gets worse
We’ll work it out. Yeah we’ll work it out.
I need light to guide me in
Oh, Yeah is it safe?

So. I'm back.

2009-06-28T19:44:00.000-05:00

That was three weeks of my life. And I'm different, I think. It's been three weeks, and I'm still digesting the feelings and happenings that I experienced. I miss people, and I'm glad I'm home. I'm sad, and I'm happy. I'm tired, and I'm awake. I have two hands that want to each do their own thing. Like this Jars of Clay song. They have a new album. And I think I like it a lot. I'm sorry this post isn't longer, but I need to find out whether I'm allowed to post my camp pictures, so I can't do that, and I just got finished sorting through 272 emails, mostly junk. So I'm just gonna post this song by Jars. Because they're the best.

Here's the lyrics:

I’ve been living out of sanity
I’ve been splitting hairs and blurring lines
I am a house that is divided
In my heart and in my mind

I use one hand to pull closer
The other to push you away
If I had two hands doing the same thing
Lifted high, lifted high

I have a broken disposition
I’m a liar who thirsts for the truth
And while I ache for faith to hold me
I need to feel the scars and see the proof

And if we just keep digging we can reach the foundation
Of our souls
And if we just keep cutting all the chains from our hearts
We’ll lose control

And it feels like giving in
It feels like starting over
It feels like waking up, and you know it’s coming
It feels like a brand new day
Open your eyes

I'm taking a sabbatical

2009-06-06T20:54:00.000-05:00

Well. Not really. Monday morning, two friends of mine and I will be heading off to Oklahoma, to work at a camp that focuses on inner-city kids who have horrible living situations and parental situations. I'll be gone for three weeks, and there will be no way to contact me. : )So. If you have any last words, say them now. Otherwise, leave them to be read on my return, the 28th of June. I'll miss this blog. I think this will be the first time since this blog's advent that I haven't posted at least once a week. But it's for a good cause, and hopefully I'll have a whole bunch of really cool stories of how God worked in these kids' lives and how He worked in mine. Pray for me, okay? I'll post again when I get back...Here's a song to listen to while I'm gone. It's not a very kind one. But it says So Long in it...that's all you need to take from this song. : )

Yes I heard all that you had to say
That's when it all fell apart
Might be hated but I can't pretend
I liked you better before

So long so long
Front foot leads the back one
Go on and it wont be too soon
I'm gone I'm gone
and on to the next one
So long and I wont be back soon

Yes I'm blue but from holding my breath
Like I had from the start
I'm the villian and I should confess
I liked you better before

So long so long
And on to the next one
Go on and it wont be too soon
I'm gone I'm gone
Bet you saw this one coming
So long and I wont be back soon

It's hateful to say
I see it this way
I don't even know who you are
But in my defense I'd do it again
I don't need to know who you are

So long so long
And on to the next one
Go on and it wont be too soon
You're gone You're gone
Are you waiting for something?
Go on cause I wont be back soon

It's hateful to say
I see it this way
I don't even know who you are
But in my defense I'd do it again
I don't need to know who you are

So long so long
Front foot leads the back one
Go on cause it wont be too soon
You're lost and gone and on to the next one
Don't need to know who you are
Don't need to know who you are

The Ingredients of a Wonderful Day

2009-06-01T23:42:00.000-05:00

Today was a fabulous day. I love days like today. There's a song by Guster called I Hope Tomorrow Is Like Today, and I completely identify with it. Here is the song:

I'm awake, you're still sleeping
The sun will rise like yesterday
Everything that we are now
Is everything we can't let go
Or its gone forever, far away
I hope tomorrow is like today
Don't you go away tomorrow
I don't think I could handle that
You're probably dreaming that you're flying on
Then you start to fall
But then you rise
and shine forever
Don't go away
I hope tomorrow is like today

And here's why I feel like that:
This morning I woke up. I slept in past what I should have gotten up...that was one of my few errors of the day. But at least I was refreshed, right? From there, I cleaned my room and evacuated my clothing from my closet...(I'm moving out of my room because my grandmas are coming into town for my brother's wedding and staying in my room) After that I vacuumed my room, started working on a writing assignment from a stack of assignments that will only get thinner and thinner until it's gone forever, and ate some raisin bran with half and half (we were out of milk). Talked with my mom while we made my grandma's bed, and called a couple of my friends to see what the night's agenda would contain. (see further on in story) I completed my first writing assignment of the day between 11-12 noon. Then I vacuumed some more and looked at my next writing assignment, one about Brave New World. Then my nephews and oldest brother and my favorite first sister-in-law got to my house. One of the few damp spots of the day was listening to Asher scream his head off for at least an hour in defiance of his nap. My grandma got to my house at around 2, by which time I had completed half of my second assignment. After greeting my grandmother, I resumed my academic efforts. I finished my paper at about 4. After that, I watched some Rhett and Link videos (They're hilarious) with Arie and picked out some clothing to wear for my "senior pics." At 5, my photographer arrived and we headed off to shoot. That was fun, and we'll see how they look. If you're lucky, you'll see how they look too. After returning from my photoshoot, I ate dinner and headed off to play volleyball with friends at Sar Ko Par. It was mobbed with people, but we wedged our way onto a court with some students from JCCC and played a few games of lopsided ball that were pretty uncompetitive. It was fun, though, and that was capped off by a wonderful trip to AMC 30 to watch Up, Pixar's latest masterpiece. I love it. It's wonderful. It's amazing. You need to see it. (SQUIRREL!) I got home around 11:15, and started in on what I assumed would be a routine Monday night dinner cleanup...until my mom noticed a piece of mail for me from the United States Treasury. Let me explain: in the month of April, I was trying to get financial aid from JCCC for the fall semester, and they told me I needed to file taxes. Since the deadline was already past, I wasn't particularly enthused about it, but I sent in my money. And my tithe to the government was rewarded: they gave me back $100 more than half of what I paid. I am happy. And they only charged me $9 in overdue time. I am happy. Tomorrow, be as good as today...but I have my doubts. Thank you friends, who contributed to such a wonderful, beautiful day.

An obscure mixture of thoughts and music

2009-05-31T10:06:00.001-05:00

So, after one of my most popular/commented posts ever, I think I'll have some fun with this one. You know...to get everybody back into comfortable zone. Not that being open and talking about hard issues doesn't...but sometimes fun stuff is the easiest way to stay loose. Ummm...this doesn't make sense. I'm changing subject.

I think I'm addicted to IBC Root Beer. There's something amazing about holding a glass bottle in your hand, and sipping from a small spout that releases cool, wonderful liquid into your taste buds. I've been buying at least a six-pack a week for about a month or a month and a half...or maybe longer. I have a huge line up the bottles on a shelf in my closet that now is two-deep and at least ten long.

I am happy, and I will be even happier after this next week is over. Unless something happens bigger than what I'll be finishing and really sad. Because I'm in the last stages of doing anything to do with homeschool. Yesterday I finished a 1000 word law essay which will determine my final grade in the online law course I'm taking with Michael Farris, a famous lawyer in homeschool circles. : ) The case we had to decide about was called Beautiful Babes with Burqas and Bazookas v. City of Purcellville. Don't blame me for that title...blame Farris. Anyway...it's extremely satisfying to finish a subject and know you will never have to do it again, ever, in the current setting or format. I will NOT be sad about high school being over. Maybe it's because I'm the only member of my class, but it's more likely because I have never, ever, enjoyed school. Unless it's reading.

There is a wonderful, calming, almost therapeutic band that my oldest bro Arie introduced me to. They're called the Weepies. And I have not heard a song by them that I don't like. So here's a song by them. Enjoy it, and then look up more of their music on Grooveshark. The only album of theirs that I've listened to much is Hideaway, but that one is excellent. Looking at the lyrics of this song, I can see they're also really talented lyricists. And I like the story that song tells...it's easy to identify with. Anyway...here's Orbiting:

You named me judge the day that I was born
You asked too much to fix what you had torn
Things got out of hand, now I understand

And I'm out of your range
Now it's kind of strange
How we change orbit in our lives
You were kind of a moon outside of my room
I could just feel you nearby
Now I feel you gone
'Cause I know which side you're on
And it's not mine

I walk the line between now and then
It's deep-sea diving with no oxygen
Guess I went somewhere to hide
Far behind my eyes
I willed you there to see
But you never came for me

And I'm out of your range
Now it's kind of strange
How we change orbit in our lives
You were kind of a moon outside of my room
I could just feel you nearby
Now I feel you gone
'Cause I know which side you're on
And it's not mine
And it's not mine
And it's not mine

Huh.

2009-05-26T16:13:00.000-05:00

I was going to post about depression. And then I was looking through my old school papers and I found this. It's about a year old. And it's brutally honest, I hope. So know that it's a year old, and some things have changed, but this was me, and parts of it still are. Let me know what you think, or just read it. Whatever.

Reflecting What?

Peter Vanderhorst

9/11/08

To truly know who it is that resides within one’s innermost regions, and what it is that makes someone who he is, he would need to be looking through God’s eyes. In my own blind-by-comparison opinion, Peter Vanderhorst is a fool. When I try to figure out what’s the matter with him, and why he keeps doing the same stupid things, I nearly always end up depressed at the stupidity of man and wishing that life could somehow, sometime, be perfect on this revolving ball we call earth.

Peter Vanderhorst is a boy who needs a reality shot. Life doesn’t revolve around him. He needs to stop acting as if it does, as if everybody should walk up to Peter Vanderhorst and hug him and give him cookies, and say he’s a great guy and everything will be okay and they’re so glad that they’re his friend. He is not deserving of any of these things being said or given to him. If any of them actually happen, it highlights the virtue of those who call themselves his friends, and not anything good about him. Because there is nothing good about him. There are some things that look good, and there are some things that may be perceived as strengths. But Peter Vanderhorst, probably 70% of the time, is wearing a mask. It’s a mask that conceals the depression, the despair, the anger, and the deceit that are there, fighting for the top spot in the emotions, influencing decisions, and creating attitude problems. It’s a mask that mostly hides the conflicting wills and the battle that rages within, a battle over two completely different viewpoints: what is good for him, and what he wants, what will feel good. These battles are normal, that everybody faces, but with him, the fact that he cannot have these things, that he will not let himself have them, makes him angry inside. There are things that he thinks he needs, but cannot have. And there are things he has that he does not appreciate. He starts thinking in ways that are just pitfalls in themselves, in which there is no way to find a “happy ever after.”

“I start to think there really is no cure for depression, that happiness is an ongoing battle, and I wonder if it isn't one I'll have to fight for as long as I live. I wonder if it's worth it.” This quote starts to define his battle. He starts to wonder if life is worth it, to try, because no matter how hard we try to accomplish something, we cannot ever make it with perfection. And that is the truth. There is no reason to live life because of anything in this world. The only thing that would make it worthwhile he does not feel connected to, he does not feel a part of. He feels like a man behind a mask. He feels like he has never really connected. True, there have been times where he has felt close to Him. But the majority of the time, he feels like God is up there and Peter is down here. And there is the sky and the stars and the space in between. It’s too easy to separate Him from what’s happening here, too easy to act as if He can’t see, can’t feel, doesn’t hear.

Peter Vanderhorst is searching. But while he searches, to make sure nobody thinks he’s horrible and disowns him for being angry and hurt and doubting, he hides. He wears a mask.

Hehehehe

2009-05-20T12:19:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry. I can't resist. I get three comic strips in my email everyday, and this was one of them:

A Poem On the Underground Wall-Simon and Garfunkel

2009-05-19T12:59:00.000-05:00

If you listen to any song on this blog, I'd recommend this one. I think this is the best example of music merged with poetry I have ever come across, and it's by one of the kings of that craft, Paul Simon. I heard a rumor that he wrote this song about a word that appeared very shortly on the cover of Simon and Garfunkel's first album, Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M., until it was noticed and removed. The writing is simply amazing in this song. He used alliteration, rhyming, and personification. There may even some more poetic devices used in this song. Either way, it's an incredible job.

Here is the song, and below it are the lyrics. Let me know what you think.

The last train is nearly due
the underground is closing soon
in the dark deserted station
restless in anticipation
a man waits in the shadows.

His restless eyes leap and scratch
at all that they can touch or catch
hidden deep within his pocket
safe within his silent socket
he holds his colored crayon.

Now from the tunnel's stony womb
the carriage rides to meet the groom
and opens wide and welcome doors
but he hesitates then withdraws
deeper in the shadows

And the train is gone suddenly
on wheels clicking silently
like a gently tapping litany
and he holds his crayon rosary
tighter in his hand

Now from his pocket he quickly flashes
the crayon on the wall he slashes
deep upon the advertising
a single-worded poem comprised of
- four letters

And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding
the poem across the tracks rebounding
shadowed by the exit light
his legs take their ascending flight
to seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.

Memories: The Good, The Beautiful, The Painful

2009-05-12T19:04:00.000-05:00

What is it about human beings that, so often, instead of looking forward, they look back? Why do we tend to live our lives in the past, rethinking decisions, regretting missed opportunities (I have so many of those), and wishing we were there instead of here? It must have something to do with our sin nature. Because that's always the case. We are part sin, and therefore everything we do that's not perfect is affected by that (which is everything.). Here are some memories I recalled the past few days:

Years and years ago, I don't even know for sure how long ago, Greenleaf Music and Arts Academy had a Talent Show. My brother Paul and I got this great idea for a choreographed fight scene titled Samson and DeLion. It's possible that name was the brainchild of another of my brothers, Johnny, who thinks in bad puns such as that one. : ) Anyway, we went ahead with it and staged an elaborate scene which included me dressed up in a lion suit/costume and getting thrown around the stage, fighting with swords, and eventually getting pinned. It was so long ago, I don't even remember completely everything. It's vague, but funny to look back on.

A quick one, from about ten years ago (an estimation). Another brother, Daniel, helped me with a grand plan: to construct a scarecrow out of my clothing and situate it in a chair in the living room around dinner time. I can still remember gleefully hiding behind the chair waiting for somebody to look for me.

On a more sober note:

The time I told you to shut up, and walked away, not caring what you thought or felt.

Wasting time on the computer for hours. Where is the time now? What did that waste do for me? Nothing.

A recent memory:
Gliding across still water, hearing distant splashing, laughter, and happy voices. Looking up and seeing silent stars, hanging, waiting...for what? Enjoying the company in the shaky canoe; talking about things it's hard to have a normal, open, comfortable, unembaressing conversation about, and succeeding.

Walks into darkness. Discovering light.

Guster: Homecoming King

2009-05-10T15:49:00.000-05:00

Guster is an amazing band. If you haven't listened to them, or heard more than one song of theirs, listen to them. They have a lot of albums, but only three that are amazing. Those would be Ganging Up On the Sun, Keep It Together, and Lost and Gone Forever. Their lyrics are well-written, their melodies are unpredictable and ridiculously catchy, and the vocals and instruments are also extremely well-done. That's what comprises a great band, and Guster is one of the best. The three albums mentioned above don't really have too many songs that aren't great. Whenever I'm on the computer, I find myself going to Grooveshark, typing in Guster, and listening to Keep It Together for the duration of my time on the compy. Please, for the pleasure of your own ears, listen to Guster.

The song I'm posting here isn't necessarily the best song, but its hard to assign that label to any particular Guster song. Here is Homecoming King:

On your way to the best years of your life
Everyone's banging on their gongs
The sooner you leave the sooner you're home
Back in Massachusetts
To your golden age where they tuck you in at night
You didn't see it coming
Now who you gonna wave to?
This time you're not homecoming king
Did you hear that?
Have you heard that sound before?
Do you even know where it is coming from?
Its getting too loud
It keeps on pushing you out
Into the arms of 1994
You didn't see it coming
Now who you gonna wave to?
'Cause this time you're not homecoming king
You're not homecoming king
You stand on your own
wasn't what you hoped at all
Do you still recall it,
giving dead-arms in the hall?
Stay right where you are
You'll be half of who you were
When you always would win
So count the days till you give in
Back to massachusetts
To your golden age where your crown is shining bright
You didn't see it coming
Now who you gonna wave to?
This time you're not homecoming king
Did you see it coming?
Now who you gonna wave to?
This time you're not homecoming king

A Dream Deferred-Langston Hughes

2009-05-06T10:06:00.000-05:00

Do you think this is an accurate poem? Does it speak truth?

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Masks and fakeness

2009-05-03T13:53:00.000-05:00

So I know that I talk about masks and being fake all the time. It's because that's what I concentrated on for about three months pretty recently. Here's a poem about it...not too sure whether I agree with it completely anymore, but I'm interested in what you think.

Staring through a static stillness

Hearing sounds of silent illness.

Everyone has a hidden heartache,

No one sees that it’s all a fake.

If we could all take off our mask

(Now that would be a weary task)

We’d find a fright’ning frivolousness,

Avert our eyes from the ugliness

That’s there beneath the surface

Of every you, him, her, and even us.

A synopsis of updates

2009-04-28T22:33:00.001-05:00

Here are some updates I've added to the sidebar:

A poll on what I should post about the most

Recommended bands/artists

Tags (what I've written about and how I've tagged it)

Let me know what you think about the changes and if there's anything else I should do. I don't want to sidebar to get too crowded, but I want to make the blog as easy to use as possible while simultaneously keeping it relevant. Thanks for reading!

A Song Post: Time For Some Ben Folds (Five)

2009-04-26T18:23:00.000-05:00

Because I've tried lately not to be lazy in my blogging and just post poetry and music, there hasn't been a music post in a few posts. That trend ends today, with one of my top five favorite artists all-time: Ben Folds. His piano skill is incredible, his voice is great, and he writes songs about real life experiences. That's kind of the point of this blog, huh? While his lyrics aren't poetry, I'd say fulfilling two of the three main points of this blog is pretty good. I know one person who doesn't like Ben Folds, and I feel sorry for them because of what they're missing. And while he has a rather foul mouth on quite a few of his songs, that doesn't stop me from loving his music. Hope you enjoy this song. It's definitely not one of his most famous songs, (those would be Brick, You Don't Know Me, The Luckiest, and several others) but I think it applies to everybody at some time, and fits with a lot of what I've been through and have talked through on this blog. He's faking it. And he knows he is. Who doesn't fake things at some point? Enjoy.

The Best Imitation of Myself:

Lyrics:

I feel like a quote out of context

Withholding the rest

So I can be for you what you want to see

I got the gesture and sound

Got the timing down

It's uncanny, yeah, you think it was me

Do you think I should take a class

To lose my southern accent

Did I make me up, or make the face till it stuck

I do the best imitation of myself

The "problem with you" speech

You gave me was fine

I liked the theories about my little stage

And I swore I was listening

But I started drifting

Around the part about me acting my age

Now if it's all the same

I've people to entertain

I juggle one handed

Do some magic tricks and

The best imitation of myself

Maybe I'm thinking myself in a hole

Wondering, who I am when I ought to know

Straighten up now time to go

Fool somebody else, fool somebody else

Last night I was east with them

And west within

Trying to be for you what you wanna see

But I can't help it with you

The good and bad comes through

Don't want you hanging out with

No one but me

Now if it's all the same

It comes from the same place

And if my mind's somewhere else

You won't be able to tell

I do the best imitation of myself

Yes it's uncanny to see

You'd really think it was me

The best imitation of myself

Give, give, give. Then give some more.

2009-04-22T09:13:00.000-05:00

Something that's been on my mind lately is how selfish I am. And how selfish the church is, as a whole. Yes, there are churches that do a great job with serving others and giving love, but as a whole, many churches are introverted.
What I'm talking about can be illustrated by looking at how many things church people do to "get," at the same time putting off giving for missions trips and soup kitchens. In my church, I go to church on Sunday and listen to a sermon (receiving), go to youth group on Wednesday (receiving), go to Faithwalkers over winter break (receiving), go to the True Life Retreat in the fall (receiving), etc. The question then becomes what am I doing to give to other people my time and love and service? There are things that I do (Good News Club, volunteering at the City Union Mission, teaching a group of young teenage boys at my church, going to camp in Oklahoma for a few weeks, going on a mission trip once a summer), but I don't feel like that's enough. Even if that's enough, I get the feeling and I know people who do a lot less than that. Why don't Christians want to act out what Christ says, to "give up your lives for your friend (or enemy, or people you don't even know)?"
Serving and volunteering in places where we're comfortable isn't going to help us grow. When I first went to Oklahoma in 2007, I had made up my mind that I did not want to go, that it was going to be a horrible time, etc. But it was an amazing time, and I was changed by serving in a place I wasn't comfortable in and didn't want to be when I got there.
My challenge for you: give your time to people who need it. Make time to give time. Do things you're not comfortable doing. Evaluate your schedule: are you receiving a lot more than you're giving? Are you giving at all? What do you need to do to give more? Are you ever serving outside of your comfort zone?

1000 hits and how hard it is to control emotions...

2009-04-15T12:26:00.000-05:00

Thanks to a loyal following and some famous poems posted on the blog, 4 months and 10 days after I started this blog, it's had 1053 visitors. That's about 250 visitors a month. Unless my math skills have left me. Haha. Anyway, it's encouraging to know that people are reading. Thank you.

I realized today while doing grammar (ugh!) how hard it is to rein in feelings and emotions. I have a problem with this. My mouth talks when it doesn't like things. It complains about how there is no reason to do this, how I'm never going to use this ever again, and how stupid it is that I have to waste my time on this idiotic subject. All of that complaining doesn't do a minutiae of good. I still have to do it, and it just makes it harder for my mom to put up with me. I'm 18, and I should know better than to behave like a kid. So. It's not fun to do grammar, but I'm gonna try and button my lip and do it. This is not the only area, of course. There are WAY too many areas in my life where it's hard for me to stay on the right path.

In what areas is it hard for you to exercise self-control? What do you do to change, and what have you found helps you to win out over the "Mr. Hyde" inside of us all?

Solitaire: I play this game a LOT

2009-04-13T11:45:00.001-05:00

You'll also notice (if you're observant) that I've posted all of the songs I've ever posted on here in the sidebar, in one place, altogether, so that you can pick any of them to listen to if you've missed some or want to listen to some again. Enjoy, and I love Grooveshark!

Endless games of solitaire

Only illustrate how little I care

About the way I spend my time.

Seeking ways to make words rhyme,

I spend too long inside my mind.

My thoughts are as decaying

As a rotting melon rind.

I watch as my life turns old,

Like hair goes graying;

There’s nothing I can find

To make me glad,

And no one who will hold

Me close enough to staunch the myriad

Doubts and fears I hide.

Places where I used to fit

Have become like torment.

Minute by minute and bit by bit

I’ve slipped away, now discontent

With the life I’ve always known.

Do I have the power to disown

Everything I’ve ever thought?

I’m cautious of being caught

By the eyes of everyone I see.

I don’t know if I’ll ever break free.

Real Life: Are Masks Good? Can We Be Free of "Fakeness?"

2009-04-11T21:31:00.000-05:00

Lately I've been doing mostly poetry and music posts, and as the title of my blog proclaims, this blog is supposed to also touch on real life. It's a lot easier for me to write posts on music and poetry, because I don't have to do as much thinking. Posts of depth require a lot of thought and time to decide what exactly you need to say and how to say it. Also, I need to think about exactly what I want to write about. Cause I don't really know right now. I guess I can talk about how people are like projectors. I just thought about that. And I think it's true.
Here's how people are like projectors: projectors display whatever it is the computer or slide controlling it wants it to. Click the arrow button, and the image or words displayed on the screen change. People do the same thing. I was talking to a friend today, and we remarked about how we say things with some people we wouldn't among others. Obviously, that's a normal thing. With different people, we have different comfort levels and different levels of trust. Everybody knows that. Everybody is like that, and everybody is different when they're around different circles or groups of people. (And I just used the word "different" 5 times in two sentences...bad writing.) The problem I have with tapping the "arrow key" and changing the slide is that sometimes the image or face or persona we display is entirely fake: we lie with our face. The question becomes whether or not the command to tell the truth extends to the impressions we give people: should we ever act like somebody we're not? People lie every day and say they're fine when they're not, mostly because they doubt whether the people asking how they are really care. There are some lyrics in a song I listened to today by a very obscure and now dead band, 5 O'Clock People, that are relevant to the topic:

maybe you'll never know why
i stare off into silence sometimes
maybe you'll never see
maybe that's what scares me

i'm afraid of the times
when my honesty becomes unkind
i'll learn to justify
the words that my actions deny

it's the same old line
if it makes you happy
i'll say that i'm fine
it's the same old line
look in my eyes
and i'll lie every time

the more that i try to explain
only the questions remain
take these words that i say
wash them all away

maybe you'll never see
maybe you'll never see
maybe you'll never see
maybe that's what scares me

People wear masks, and here's the question: is that a good thing or a bad thing? Can it ever be good? Is it inevitable, and should we just resign ourselves to the fact that fakeness is part of life, and always will be? What do you think?
I didn't really come to a conclusion in this post. Perhaps that's because I don't really know what I think. I hate acting like I'm a person that I'm not. So I don't like being fake. But I wonder whether it's possible to be completely real all the time. If you have thoughts on this topic, please don't be shy. Talk about it. On here. Or you can email. But I don't know why you would do that. : )

PMRL's hits at a steady rate...Wrapped Up in Books

2009-04-06T12:14:00.000-05:00

So I don't know if you know how cool it is to keep track of who comes to your blog and when and how they got there, but I think it's awesome. I can find out who's stalking me, and how they found the blog, and what search terms give me the most hits. For instance, the poem a Simile For Her Smile has brought me a lot of hits; in the google search for that title, I'm fourth. I think that's cool. 4/772 results is a pretty good place to be for this blog. Under the search term: explanation of "Reluctance" Robert Frost, my blog also takes fourth place, this time out of 5580 results. I know this sounds proud, but it makes me happy that I have site traffic, and not just from people who know me (even though I like their visits probably the most; they respond). Anyway, Statcounter is an awesome free service, and it's fun to look through the stats it offers.
I've been mulling over which song to post next (SO many amazing ones), and I've decided on this one: Wrapped Up In Books, by Belle and Sebastian. It's got some great lines and I can identify with it. Like I've said before, see my reasoning behind my music tastes here. Hope you like it lots!

The lyrics:

It was pretty bright, up on the rainbow bridge tonight
I could see into your window although you’re far away
You were racing in a car
Beside a boy, you just don’t know
If he is up for what you have in mind
If he is up for what you have in mind

Change is on the cards, but this time it will be hard
But I never want to leave you
We’ve never had a fight
You should never split a pole
You should never split at all
I wish I had two paths I could follow
I’d write the ending without any sorrow

I will say a prayer, just while you are sitting there
I will wrap my arms around you
I know it will be fine
We've got a fantasy affair
We didn’t get wet. We didn’t dare.
Our aspirations are wrapped up in books
Our inclinations are hidden in looks

Summer’s hastening on
I’m trying to get a feeling from
The city, but I’ve been unfaithful
I’ve been traveling abroad

We’ve got a fantasy affair
We didn’t get wet, we didn’t dare
But the fantasy remains
You better come back to earth again

Our aspirations are wrapped up in books
Our inclinations are hidden in looks

Talk, and reap the consequences.

2009-04-02T18:32:00.000-05:00

The way most people react when they see people acting depressed or purposely secluding themselves is to let them be. I know, because I've been on both sides of that picture. I've watched as other people shut everybody else out, and I've done the same thing myself. So I can say from experience that when I looked like I shut people out, I wanted people to talk to me. When I was in that mindset, I was in a period of testing people. I was trying to find out: Who actually cares? Who notices? Who will take the first step towards me? Because people tend to be too respectful of the way things look, depressed people get left to themselves.
I don't think that should be the way things happen. At the very least, we should make an attempt to see if people in a state of being down want to talk about it with us. In my life, I've chosen to risk being rebuffed for the chance that the people I see being sad need somebody to talk to. Does that make sense? It would be better to be rejected while trying than to never try and have wasted a chance.

Here's a poem that kind of addresses that topic:

Nobody knows who I am within;

What kinds of doubt and fear reside

Beneath my actions, or their origin.

Inside, so many dreams and wishes died.

If opportunity does come,

What will happen?

Will I go numb?

Or will I take it? What then?

Uncertainties rule

In my life, and I’m a fool.

Why can’t I turn this around?

Will I always be lost, and never found?

I can’t count the cost of happiness;

Conquer the darkness that leaves me with less.

People look, but never address the real problems

Or the aloneness that condemns

Me to live this life.

Inside, there’s a knife

Cutting deeper and deeper,
And a road, getting steep and still steeper.

The Weakerthans-A Brilliant Band

2009-03-29T18:43:00.000-05:00

I've been meaning to post a Weakerthans song for some while now, but they keep slipping out of my mind when I post. No longer. The Weakerthans are a Canadian indie rock band, who combine brilliant lyrics with usually great melodies. (Sometimes I think they get a bit far from their best stuff, but I listen anyway to hear the words, which are incredibly written.) I could post a bunch of their songs which I love a bunch, but I'll have to choose just one. Which will be Civil Twilight. Listen carefully...if you don't catch the words from the song, then you can read the lyrics. This is probably their most popular song to date, as it reached number 1 on the Canadian charts for a long time. Listen for alliteration. They're incredible alliteration writers. (If that makes sense...)

The lyrics:
My confusion corner commuters are cursing the cold away
As December tries to dissemble the length of their working day
And they bite their mitts off to show me transfers, deposit change
and I can't stop finding your face in their faces, all rearranged
and angry like you never were;

And I ease us back into traffic
dusk comes on and I wonder why
I'm always remembering you
in civil twilight

for the most part I think about golfing and constantly calculate
all the seconds left in the minutes, and so on, etcetera
Or recite the names of provinces and Hollywood actors;
Oh, Ontario! Oh, Jennifer Jason Leigh!
This part of the day bewilders me

Streets slow down and ice over,
Dusk comes on and I struggle to stop,
To stop to stop thinking of you
In civil twilight

Hey, every other hour I pass that house,
Where you told me that you had to go
I wonder if the landlord has fixed the crack,
That I stared at, instead of staring back at you;

My chance to say something seemed so brief
It wasn't. Now I know I had plenty of time
Between the sunset and certified darkness
Dusk comes on and I follow the exhaust from memory up to the end

The civil twilight
The civil twilight
The civil twilight
The civil twilight