This Road We Travel

I feel ya...

2007-01-29T15:38:00.000-08:00

Consider Yourselves Warned.

2007-01-24T14:08:00.000-08:00

Lead of Love

2007-01-15T15:55:00.000-08:00

I thought it would be good to explain the theme I've used for my blog. I heard a song the other day that reminded me of the very idea I am going to try to get across. "This Road We Travel" actually came from a different song but I'm going to introduce you to this one.

Lead of Love

Looking back at the road so far
The journey's left its share of scars
Mostly from leaving the narrow and strait
Looking back it is clear to me
That a man is more than the sum of his deeds
And how You've made good of this mess I've made
Is a profound mystery

Looking back You know You had to bring me through
All that I was so afraid of
Though I questioned the sky, now I see why
Had to walk the rocks to see the mountain view
Looking back I see the lead of love

Looking back I can finally see (I'd rather have wisdom)
How failures bring humility (than be)
Brings me to my knees (a comfortable fool)
Helps me see my need for Thee

It's impossible for me to fully understand this song. What am I? 16? I don't have a lot of road to look back on. I anticipate the meaning. It's great being young with all that road ahead. But it's going to rock being old. Even better to die. This will be my song in heaven when I can really see what God was doing. He promises it's gonna be good.

The Loving, the Wise

2007-01-11T14:27:00.000-08:00

Wisdom and love. They never seemed to have much in common to me. Not that they can't coexist. They are simply different things. I came across an interesting parallel between wisdom and love.

But the wisdom from above is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and good deeds. It shows no favoritism and is always sincere. And those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of righteousness. (James 3:17-18 NLT)

Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn't want what it doesn't have. Love doesn't strut, doesn't have a swelled head, doesn't force itself on others, isn't always "me first," doesn't fly off the handle, doesn't keep score of the sins of others, doesn't revel when others grovel, takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, puts up with anything, trusts God always, always looks for the best, never looks back, but keeps going to the end. (I Corinthians 13:4-7 The Message)

Okay, I realize they aren't identical. But there are similarities. I got to thinking about how they could be reconciled to each other. How can they display the same qualities?

I've been wrestling a bit lately about what love really is. Sometimes, I find it's hard to recognize. C.S. Lewis's work, The Four Loves has been helpful but at the same time gave me more questions. Most would point you to the I Corinthians passage I quoted above for one who has questions about what love is. But Paul was not defining love for the Corinthians. It's a description of what it's supposed to look like, and a beautiful description it is. But it didn't solve my problem. It was then that I saw that James wasn't defining wisdom. He was describing its fruit. The fruit is the similarity. Wisdom is "peace loving, gentle at all times and willing to yield to others." Strange, since our idea of a wise (or maybe intelligent) person would be, stereotypically, a proud, argumentative person who always ends up being right. He's not afraid to tell you what he thinks because he is confident of his ability to defend his answer. But that's not the kind of wisdom James is talking about. Biblical wisdom is married to meekness. James stresses the wise as peacemakers. It's not about philosophizing and debunking, writing books, showing up the lesser man. It's understanding things that are far beyond philosophy. God alone can grant pure wisdom. It's a gift to those who want it. Who really want it (James 1:5-8).

And love? Lewis points out in The Four Loves and illustrates powerfully in Till We Have Faces the many facets of love. They aren't all noble ones. Like most things, men easily corrupt the things that are legitimate. But true love, or should I say pure love, free from corruption that comes naturally in our fallen world is evidence of a work of God, marked by patience, meekness, mercy and goodness. So here we can see the connection. Both wisdom and love, in pure form, in true and sacred form, are the gifts of God. His fingerprints give the similarities. His unmistakable, predictable character is superimposed on all His works and the glory is all His.

The Fruits of Boredom

2006-12-19T10:53:00.000-08:00

It needs...something...

My lovely assistant. Preheat to 350°.

Bake until...colorful.

In the future, I would recommend using an approved non-stick cooking spray.

Smells...kinda funny.

Tastes...kinda funny.

Ahh...vacation.

Lemons

2006-12-18T14:36:00.000-08:00

I approach the table to get some tea. She arrives at the same time.

Me: "Oh no, go ahead."
Her: "Oh, I was just getting some lemons."

Both resume their businesses. *Sigh*...

Christianity Anyone?

2006-12-05T17:17:00.000-08:00

I read this quote by Mark Dever, pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church. Yes, a Baptist said something that made me think :) Anyway, it was radically different than any philosophical approach I’ve heard in the past to presenting the Gospel. Maybe I live under a rock or something. Here goes...

“When we hold forth the good news in our preaching, we should particularly beware of presenting this gospel as an option to be exercised for the betterment of sinners' lives. After all, what would a carnal person consider "better"? Leading questions like "are you scared of death?" "Do you want happiness?" "Wouldn't you like to know the meaning of your life?" are all well-intentioned, and any of them may be used by God's Spirit to convict someone, and to lead to their conversion. But such questions may also be answered by a simple "no." To use such questions as if they are the starting point for those considering the gospel is to make it sound all too optional.

I don't care if my hearers are scared of death, wanting happiness or meaning in life, I know that they will die and stand before God to give an account of their lives. And I know that God will therefore rightly condemn them to an eternal Hell.

So I find verses like Mark 8:38 useful, where Jesus taught "If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels."

Or again, Romans 3:19-20, "Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin."

Or Hebrews 9:27, "man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment . . ."

This demand—rather than a marketer's appeal—is to be the basis of the evangelistic call in our sermons. Our gospel sermons are not to sound like the solicitations of a salesman, but the summons of a judge.”

I can’t think of an evangelistic service I’ve been to that didn’t bend over backwards to make the Gospel as appealing as possible, though in a well-meaning attempt to bring souls to Christ. I thought about this. Paul says in 1 Cor. 2 “And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.” I started to write more but it was only speculative. I want to know what you all think. I'm not looking to pool ignorance, but if you have anything enlightening to tell me, I would appreciate some enlightenment on this subject. I know the Gospel is simple, but the proper approach to sharing it seems rather complicated.

And the people said

2006-11-30T17:34:00.000-08:00

ahwoohoohoohoohoooooo and the times were good!

You'd have to have been there. 14 days and this semester will be behind us all! Count em'. I know some of you get some sort of gratification or euphoria from going to school but I am proud to say I don't stand among your ranks. Don't worry. We can still be friends. :)

I have to say, this semester has been a good one. I could wax eloquent and write a bunch of sentimental gush about how things have changed, and friendships have grown sweeter, but I don't want to put either of us through that. So I'll just leave it at that and then say, I'm glad I have the friends I do. They're not so bad to have around. In fact, I'm pretty darned attached.

Vocabulary Review

2006-11-16T13:56:00.000-08:00

OPTIMISM, n. The doctrine, or belief, that everything is beautiful, including what is ugly, everything good, especially the bad, and everything right that is wrong. It is held with greatest tenacity by those most accustomed to the mischance of falling into adversity, and is most acceptably expounded with the grin that apes a smile. Being a blind faith, it is inaccessible to the light of disproof -- an intellectual disorder, yielding to no treatment but death. It is hereditary, but fortunately not contagious.

OPTIMIST, n. A proponent of the doctrine that black is white.

--Ambrose Bierce

Envy

2006-10-31T18:27:00.000-08:00

Afraid of What?

2006-10-16T17:36:00.000-07:00

After a few events and a then during a well-timed conversation this song ironically started playing while I was listening to some music. I hope it will be a rebuke and a kick in the pants to you like it was to me. What are we so afraid of?

Father, hear my prayer
I need the perfect words
Words that he will hear
And know they're straight from You
I don't know what to say
I only know it hurts
To see my only friend slowly fade away
So maybe this time
I'll speak the words of life
With Your fire in my eyes
But that old familiar fear is tearing at my words
What am I so afraid of?

'Cause here I go again
Talkin 'bout the rain
And mulling over things that won't live past today
And as I dance around the truth
Time is not his friend
This might be my last chance to tell him
That You love Him
But here I go again, here I go again

Lord, You love him so,
You gave Your only Son
If he will just believe; he will never die
But how then will he know what he has never heard
Lord he has never seen mirrored in my life
This might be my last chance to tell him
That You love him
This might be my last chance to tell him
That You love him
You love him

What am I so afraid
What am I so afraid
What am I so afraid of?
How then will he know
What he has never heard

For those who care...

2006-09-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

There is nothing new right now. I'm not even reading anything (besides textbooks. gag...). Although I did finish a book called "Praise Habit" by David Crowder awhile ago. It was pretty awesome. It's all about taking the mundane, boring tasks of life that seem to drain me of my joy and finding God in them. In other words, approaching everything in life as an opportunity of enjoying God for who He is. I fail utterly in this so I think it was important that I read it.
On a different note, it seems like I'm not keeping up with people like I should. I hate that. For those of you who fall under that category and I haven't had a good conversation with you in awhile, I'm sorry. I'll try to get back in touch with you soon. Everyone's so busy. It rots. I'm praying for you all.

Jesus, I am blind, be my light
Darkened in my mind, be my wisdom
Bend my stubborn will to Your own
Open up my ears to hear Your Spirit
Melt my conscience once again
Help me hate the slightest sin
And when Satan comes to tempt me

I come running to You, when I fear, when I’m tried
I come running to You, to Your blood, to Your side
And there my soul finds rest
There my soul finds rest in You

Shepherd of my soul, lead me on
To the pastures green in Your Scriptures
Make me to lie down by waters still
Fill me with Your peace in the tempest
I take my refuge in Your cross
By Your sacrifice I’m washed
And when Satan comes accusing

Once I was Your foe, a slave to sin
A stranger to Your love, a hopeless outcast
But You have brought me near, I’m bought with blood
Now I’m Your precious child, an heir with Jesus
You pour heaven into my soul
Your wondrous love, it overflows
And I marvel how You love me

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

I've been tagged...

2006-09-11T13:33:00.000-07:00

Here goes. I have to confess that I'm not the most avid reader in the world so I hope I can come up with an answer to all of these.

1. One book that changed your life:
"Not Even a Hint" by Joshua Harris

2. One book that you’ve read more than once:
Lord of the Rings (I guess that's three...)

3. One book you’d want on a desert island:
"How to Survive on a Desert Island"

4. One book that made you laugh:
"The Authoratative Calvin and Hobbes" by Bill Waterson (does that count?)

5. One book that made you cry:
"Last of the Mohicans" by James Fenimore Cooper. Sad ending.

6. One book that you wish had been written:
"A Compilation of my Thoughts on Life" by C.S. Lewis

7. One book you wish had never been written:
"Ivanhoe" totally rots.

8. One book you’re currently reading:
"The Good Earth" by Pearl S. Buck

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read:
a lot. "Catch 22" by Heller, "Natasha's Dance" by Figes, "The World is Flat" by Friedman

10. Now tag five people:
timford
bethany
ali
jigger
sam

Wow.

2006-09-04T17:32:00.000-07:00

Whilst browsing, I came upon this sermon by Joshua Harris at the New Attitude conference. I thought it looked interesting, downloaded it and proceeded to forget about it. A few days ago I found the time to watch it and I was completely blown away. I'm telling you, find the time and watch this sermon. You will not regret it at all. In fact, you might watch it again. I think it is so vital that our generation hears this message. So, with that glowing review here's the link:

http://www.newattitude.org/media/

The page will display several sermons. I'm talking about the one titled "The Truth: Rediscovering Humble Orthodoxy" by Joshua Harris. (it might take awhile to download as well. Sorry!)

Lesson Learned

2006-08-30T18:50:00.000-07:00

I had always heard said that I shouldn't place a lot of confidence in my plans for the future. I did it anyway. But the clay that I was carefully molding fell in on itself. Back to feeling more or less directionless. "They" also say that this is the best place to be. I think it's true but not very satisfying at the moment.

A New Era (suspiciously similar to an older one)

2006-08-15T16:26:00.000-07:00

It comes at last...the first day of classes. See, this is the deal. For the freshman, this is kind of cool. Everything is new, bigger, brighter, they have a little more freedom (negligible, but more), the girls aren't as weird as they were in 8th grade and quite frankly they are much more enjoyable to be around. Yes, I was a freshman once. In fact it wasn't very long ago and after meeting the fresh batch of 9th graders this year, that's rather frightening that I ever acted like them, much less two short years ago. Ah well...

My entire sophomore year was spent with the mindset of, 'when am I ever going to get out of this place?' (for all you current sophomores reading this, don't do that. It basically makes your year rot) Everyone said that becoming an upper-classman would make things better. It doesn't seem to be that much different than last year but maybe it was just me on the first day of school (after all, I was in "the sky is black" mode). You never know, things just might get better and it really could be a lot worse. I could be in junior high right now.

This is a picture of China. Because I like it and miss it terribly.

School: the Impending Doom

2006-08-04T17:13:00.000-07:00

It has been brought to my attention that my blog has gotten rather boring. The reason was that I had nothing to say so I thought it was better to "be silent and be thought a fool then by speaking remove all doubt". But now with school approaching, I guess the event needs some recognition though it grieves me to acknowledge it. I read this passage from "The Confessions of Saint Augustine" today and laughed out loud at the fact that after almost 1,700 years, a student's sentiments toward school have not changed one bit. It was so appropriate to my (our) situation.

O God, my God, great was the misery and great the deception that i met with when it was impressed on me that, to behave properly as a boy, I must obey my teachers....Hence I was sent to school to acquire learning, the utility of which, wretched child that I was, I did not know. Yet if I was slow at learning, I was beaten. This method was praised by our forebears, many of whom had passed through this life before us and had laid out the hard paths that we were forced to follow. Thus were both toil and sorrow multiplied for the sons of Adam....we sinned by writing, reading, and thinking over our lessons less than was required of us. Lord, there was in us no lack of memory or intelligence, for you willed that we should have them in sufficient measure for our years. Yet we loved to play, and this was punished in us by men who did the same things themselves. However, the trivial concerns of adults are called business, while such things in children are punished by adults.

Maybe I'm just a nerd, but I thought it was kind of funny. Well, I'll see many of you in about ten days! In class! Yay!

A Book You Must Read

2006-07-18T18:12:00.000-07:00

Of course, this book is one of many in the above category. If you are unsure of what they might be, we can talk. I confess to not reading as much as I should. Alas. But I did read this on recommendation of my sister. She drops some good advice every once in awhile.

C. S. Lewis is the master. I think this is my new favorite book by him. I really can't tell you anything about it because it's such an amazing beginning and I don't want to give anything away (all of it is great actually). You will not regret spending the time reading it. Very thought provoking and well written and all those things that make great books.

That wasn't poetic at all but you get the idea. Just read it. I even included a picture! What more could you ask?

Quest for Employment: Episode #35846216

2006-07-09T11:11:00.000-07:00

As a matter of fact, I haven't applied at quite that many places. But it's like those people who count by 47s while doing push-ups (an excellent way to obtain the mind of a math nerd and pecs like Arnold. Neither will happen but it sounds good.) Anyway, it feels like I've done my share of job searching although those with whom I reside, who will probably read this, will likely post their objections to this statement.

All that aside, I got a job yesterday. A one time thing that I picked up from student services. The ad they posted said: help moving crates. That was it. I can move crates. So I called her. Note that I don't know this lady at all. She told me that she could use my help and gave me directions to her house located near the North Carolina border next to a big lake. Her directions were very helpful.

Her: "You go past Furman and then you'll drive awhile and see this overpass. You go under it. Don't go on it or you'll get real lost. Just go under the overpass. You'll pass a few farm stands selling peaches and boiled peanuts and other things and you'll get to this road. Now the road isn't marked but that's ok just turn right on it."
Me: "What's the name of the road?"
Her: "It's not marked so it don't matter. Just do like I told you. So then you'll go by this lake and keep goin past it and you'll pass all these farms and you'll go for a good ways. Then you'll get to this road called ------- Road and you'll turn on it. And you'll go for a good ways down that road until you get to a green farm gate. The gate has a sign saying no trespassing on it so you'll know it's the right one. Stop there cause that's my house."
Me: "What's the house number?" (I was just going to look it up on mapquest instead.)
Her: "Well it don't matter because my mailbox got hit so the number ain't on there now. I need to get it fixed you know but I just haven't had time. These drunks broke my mailbox you know. We have em all over in the mountains. People on drugs too. I had to hold this one man on crack at gunpoint last week for 40 minutes til the police could come cause he wouldn't go away. Wanted money from us but I didn't want to give him. It takes 40 minutes for the police to come up here you know.
Me: "But what's your house number."
Her: "Well like I said, my mailbox got all banged up from these drunks so you won't be able to tell by the number. Just follow the directions I gave you. You won't get last.
Me: "I'd like your address. It would help me find your house."
Her: "It's --- but that won't help you find the house cause I don't have those numbers anymore."
Me: "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ok, I am not exaggerating. On top of that she started telling me all this stuff about her interests and things she does. A two minute phone call took fifteen.

Her: "You like dogs?"
Me: "They're fine." (I was thinking she might have one or two)
Her: "Good because I have thirteen."
Me: "Oh...um...wow."
Her: "Yes, I never met a dog I didn't like. They love boys so wear old clothes."

The dogs freely roam throughout her house, peeing wherever they feel is necessary. Several enjoy taking naps in her cupboard and would pull out all her dishes to make room so she decided to give them the cupboard space to nap and use her countertop to store dishes. Yeah. And except for one small one, they are all big dogs. Really big dogs. So my dad graciously drives me out to the boondocks (using mapquest directions. and we didn't get lost.) Sure enough. Green farm gate with a no trespassing sign. In a few minutes she drove down the driveway and got out of her car. She was an elderly lady wearing a rainbow colored full length nightgown thing. I wanted to ask if Joseph lent it to her. She unlocked the gate talking the whole time to me and my dad. We said little. I got in her car, Dad got in his and we waved bye. One of the first topics in her conversation to me was she hadn't brushed her hair that day so she looks like a witch. I didn't respond. So she starts talking about what she wants me to do. First, she had me plant some fig trees down by the lake next to her house. She was about to send me down to plant them. So I got a wheelbarrow and she came out of her shed with a rake. I wondered how I was going to dig a foot and a half deep hole with a garden rake. I asked if she had a shovel. She went back in her shed and brought a shovel. I laughed to myself, shook my head and went down. Once I was through planting the trees and a few bushes, I came back up and she had me move some cans to another shed she had. Some meant hundreds and hundreds. Predominantly pineapple juice of all things and tins of decaf coffee. Interestingly enough, she stored all this in cardboard boxes on a stack of logs with a tarp over it. If you have ever looked between a tarp and a stack of logs you know what was in those boxes. Roaches, slugs, earwigs, about a dozen brown spiders as big as a half dollar. I hate spiders. Anyway, the cans got moved and I planted some more figs outside her door. All this to say, the reason she wanted all this done was because the Indians told her an earth change was coming this year. She's stockpiling because she was told everyone not living on a farm or stockpiled food was going to die. She did both. At least she's safe. She wanted the fig trees near her house so when starving people come to eat the figs off her trees by the lake she will have some by her house. Maybe in a pinch she could eat one of her dogs...

I got paid. But the story is better.

Asian Backstreet Boys

2006-07-04T13:37:00.000-07:00

I was an instant fan.

My Soul Waits for God Alone

2006-07-02T10:59:00.000-07:00

To the choirmaster: according to Jeduthun.
A Psalm of David.

For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

How long will all of you attack a man to batter him, like a leaning wall, a tottering fence? They only plan to thrust him down from his high position. They take pleasure in falsehood.They bless with their mouths, but inwardly they curse.
Selah

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.
Selah

Those of low estate are but a breath; those of high estate are a delusion;in the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath. Put no trust in extortion; set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, set not your heart on them.

Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this:that power belongs to God, and that to you, O Lord, belongs steadfast love.For you will render to a man according to his work.

2006-06-29T13:29:00.000-07:00

Why are we always so irritable and sullen? Weren't we created to be happy? Everybody seems to be like this guy.

Oh yes...the rotten banana

2006-06-27T10:47:00.000-07:00

2006-06-21T16:42:00.000-07:00

"I have but one candle of life to burn, and I would rather burn it out in a land filled with darkness than in a land flooded with light" -- John Keith Falconer

If that doesn't say it all...

More China Pictures

2006-06-19T16:25:00.000-07:00

I Left My Heart in China

2006-06-18T03:42:00.000-07:00

After spending a little less than four weeks in China, I returned home with my sister two days ago. The plane brought my body to America. We made all our connections okay and all our luggage made it back. I forgot to bring back my heart...

I'll never forget this trip as long as I live. I'll post a few pictures now, more might appear in later posts. And then some more even later when I'm feeling nostalgic about China. Actually, that's a constant state of being for me.

Spent a short afternoon in this village. A dear sister lives here. We had a time of talking and singing. Some of you will meet her one day.

Two good friends I made over there. We're all kinda crazy.

I haven't loaded many pictures on the computer yet. There are about 650. More to come soon. Keep comments general as I keep my posts general.

Photogenic

2006-05-16T09:51:00.000-07:00

Some pictures for your enjoyment. My sister and I eventually mastered the self timer...

i don't think it's working, tim.

hello?

man, i think i blinked

achoo.

wait, did it just take a picture?

no more pictures!

i love you, tim

she's not here right now

that makes me happy

final product

good stuff

2006-05-11T18:29:00.000-07:00

if i tell you something you need to know
i gotta back it up
i gotta let it show
we can be so loud
we can write a song that makes us all proud
but without love
it's just a sound

everybody show what we know
and let that good stuff flow
everybody show what we know
and let that good stuff flow

i could speak with tongues of Angels
apologetics in a slick rhetoric
either way without love my words are dead
we have love
we have forgiveness
we have grace without a limit
so if it has been revealed to us
should it not then be contagious?
we got the rhythm
we got the rhyme
print up a t-shirt
throw them a line

but without love we are nothing

Somewhere on Serpent River Lives a Genius

2006-04-22T09:04:00.000-07:00

Another Day

2006-04-19T17:21:00.000-07:00

High school life is, in a word, mundane. Here I sit in front of my computer, listening to some tunes and typing a post that I have very little idea as to where it is going. Oh yes. High school. My high school is undebatably different than any other you'll find. At the same time, it is exactly the same. The classes, homework, boring lectures, not to mention your everyday melodrama. Everyone that reads this post and is in or has been at some point involved in the high school rituals knows exactly what I'm talking about. In fact, you could tell stories of your own high school lives for hours. Not that anyone cares.

But it'll be over soon. I believe we have 16 more school days. (for those of us who aren't graduating this year. curse you all) *huge sigh* That's amazing. This year went by so much faster than freshman year. Man, did freshman year stink. But even that was an improvement over those nightmare years in the junior high. If I'm ever having a bad day, it's not hard to remember a time I had it worse.

I've overheard so many people talk about how they can't believe that they will be taking another step next year (freshman to sophmores, etc.). And they say they don't want to grow up. Pshaw! I want to...grrrr. I don't know. I don't have a whole lot to say about that notion except you're stupid. What happened to planning big for your life? Don't you want to do something instead of taking stupid notes in a stupid class? Don't you want to do something exciting? Go get a copy of "Don't Waste Your Life" and read it. Many people with this identical attitude have read that book. No change. It's a plague, indifference. Get with it. Dream big. Live in light of eternity. A certain missionary to Cambodia said:

"You have a really, really short life followed by a really, really long eternity. How should you then live?"

Don't give me some load about savoring every stage of life. There is a kernel of truth to that. Contentment is essential. I struggle with that. I remind myself that "they also serve who only stand and wait." But the idea is generally and quite easily over-emphasized.
In short:

Live.

Wonderful Maker

2006-04-12T17:13:00.000-07:00

I thought this song was so worshipful.

You spread out the skies
Over empty space
Said, "Let there be light"
To a dark and formless world
Your light was born

You spread out Your arms
Over empty hearts
Said, "Let there be light"
To a dark and hopeless world
Your Son was born

You made the world
And saw that it was good
You sent Your only Son
For You are good

What a wonderful Maker
What a wonderful Savior
How majestic Your whispers
And how humble Your love
With a strength like no other
And the heart of a Father
How majestic Your whispers
What a wonderful God

No eyes has fully seen
How beautiful the cross
And we have only heard that faintest whispers
Of how great You are

2006-04-01T09:36:00.000-08:00

Since it has been a subject of the utmost interest, I thought I would relieve fs of her eternal curiosity and post a picture of "my easy chair of interest."

Object Lesson Time!

2006-03-23T12:39:00.000-08:00

You know, girls are a lot like easy chairs. Granted they are rather uncomfortable to sit on and that's where my analogy breaks down but not before that. So this is how I see it. Let me tell you a story and then I'll make my application. Some time ago, my dad wanted to buy an easy chair for his study. A nice, classically-styled, comfortable, leather chair that he could sit in and read or think or sleep or whatever it is he does back there late at night. So he went to Kincaid (yes Kincaid, a select group of you might find that funny) and found a chair that fit the above qualifications. It was expensive. He wasn't sure that he should spend a bunch of money on a chair. So what do you do when you're not sure if you should buy a chair? Sit in it for awhile. He spent quite awhile sitting in that chair. Customer service people would find him.

"Sir, can I help you with something?"

"No," he would reply and go back to staring off into nothing. (Meanwhile, I'd be off sitting on the $3000 dollar executive class 8-cushion couch with the really big ottoman and give the same reply to the sales people.) He sat in the chair for a long time praying about whether to spend the money. He would then get up and we would go home. A few days later we walk into the store again and he goes straight to the Chair (and I went straight for my $3000 dollar executive class 8-cushion couch with the really big ottoman). The floor model of the Chair was the only one in stock. The model had been discontinued. Anyone could have bought it between our visits (there were several of them). Dad would say,

"If somebody buys it then I'll know I wasn't supposed to have it."

Here's the application to girls. Some easy chairs are overstuffed.

Just kidding. That's not my application although it could be one, you know. See, if you like a girl but you don't know if she's the One, you just wait it out. If some other loser guy comes along and takes her before you do then you know she wasn't the right one. She was just a one. In the meantime, don't just buy the first chair that you think would be a good one. Sit in it for awhile. Spend some time with her without making a commitment that's hard to get out of. There are a whole lot of easy chairs in the store.

My Hero

2006-03-12T10:34:00.000-08:00

C. S. Lewis rocks hard. I just thought I'd bring that fact to light.

uh huh...

2006-03-01T16:19:00.000-08:00

Ok, so there was this guy right? And like he knew this girl and he was like sooo into her! You know? I mean he was in major crush mode. So anyway, she kinda liked him but like not really. I mean she didn't really not like him but it was like I don't know. Yeah so...it was kinda like an awkward situation.

Reliance on Christ

2006-02-12T09:15:00.000-08:00

Upon reflecting on the previous post, I realized that I didn't fully express my point. So, instead of editting it I decided to post again and you can read them both as one. Hopefully I will be understood.

God uses people who rely on Him. Who freefall into His perfect will with no thought of personal gain. Christ is our gain. A man-centered life (either focusing on ourselves or other people. Usually both of these) never amounts to anything worth living for. It's like walking through your kitchen and water is boiling in a pot. You reach out and grasp the steam rising from it because it looks so cool with rays of light captured in the mist but your hand is empty. Only residue. It's gone forever. Or you can climb a mountain. Yes, you can hold a insignificant portion, a rock or a tree sitting on top of it, but there is no way you could encompass the whole mountain in your arms. It's way too big. Christ is that Mountain. Man is that steam. Which on will you bank on to hold you up when you need it most?

The times that we realize how important God is are when we have nothing else to hold on to. Or when we realize how worthless are lives are. Instead of plunging into deep despair because of your worthlessness, exalt in Christ's power and grace and strength and eternal mercy! That is the only reason we exist! Do it with every breath!

Now back to testimony. Everyone struggles with sin in his life. Many Christians hide their sin because of what others may think of the fact that they do have a sin problem. They work their whole life to build this facade of good things they do and it looks great on the outside (white-washed sepulchres). The Bible commands us to confess our sins to each other. Not that our brothers are our acting priests that we must confess through to God. We need the help of our brothers and sisters to keep us accountable and to lift each other up in prayer. Iron sharpens iron. Don't close yourself to fellow believers. If you are wrestling with the Devil, cry for help! A three-fold cord is not quickly broken.

Our relationship with Christ is more important than any self-crafted reputation.

Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain?

Testimony

2006-02-10T14:03:00.000-08:00

During a recent conversation with a good friend of mine, he talked to me about how when he was in high school how it was always drilled into him that he had to maintain his testimony. He had to maintain his testimony. He had to maintain his testimony. Before I go on, he did not mean to belittle the importance of testimony. Christ commands us to maintain a good testimony for God and for men. The problem we run into is this. If we have a constant awareness of how we are acting, how these actions are being interpreted by others around us, if we are concerned about maintaining a certain level of spirituality, etc., we are ceasing to do it because we love Christ. We are serving men. We are afraid that our reputation will be damaged. God doesn't call people to him that keep a perfect record and are the nicest people that do the nicest things. No, God uses the weak. He uses the weak, broken people because they are in less danger of becoming proud of what they do. The really really nice people that stand up and give the long testimonies and attend all the prayer meetings and read their Bible every night and make sure everyone is aware of these things is missing the point. They are consumed with pride. Now this is not to say that any of the aforementioned things are wrong. But you all know the type I'm describing.

The bottom line is this: God doesn't use people who have it all figured out. God uses people that struggle with lust, struggle with faith, struggle with discontentment and everything else. This is encouraging. Most of us don't have perfect spiritual lives and this very idea gives us hope and excitement that we can still serve. Don't believe for a second that because of your inadequacy you are excluded from service to Christ. It's a lie that will rob you of too many opportunities.

'Cause when I'm weak
You make me strong
When I'm blind
You shine Your light on me
'Cause I'll never get by
Living on my own ability
By the power of Christ in me

2006-02-02T14:39:00.000-08:00

"I have nothing to say and I'm saying it..."

--John Cage

Fifth Installment

2006-01-16T14:42:00.000-08:00

Here's the next installment such as it is. It's not as long as I wanted it to be but I don't feel like writing more right now. So ya'll can get off my case for a while.

“The morning streaked splashes of purple and yellow across the sky. The Nubian examined my wound once again. He grunted, noticing the skin around the gash was swollen and showed signs of festering. After compelling me to saddle his camel, he sat behind me. I asked him where he was taking me but it was no use. He merely mumbled a few words in his native tongue.
“A sharp pain plagued me and worsened from the camel’s incessant, jarring strides. I did not know where this slave would take me. I assumed he was trying to find us a refuge but how long the journey would last was still unknown to me. Darkness fell. The night wore on and he still hastened toward the evasive horizon. My eyelids grew heavy, despite my wound which still pained me, and I soon fell asleep. But I was suddenly awakened when the Nubian’s arms released me and he dismounted. A great gateway stood before us, heavy wooden doors in walls of stone, and up in the towers above gatekeepers stirred wielding about their torches and calling to us. My companion’s reply aroused much tumult on the walls and the doors swung open. The Nubian took his camel by the reins and led us into the village. The little town was dark and silent apart from the gentle rumble of waves on a shore. My friend had brought me to the sea.

Fourth Installment

2006-01-05T06:34:00.000-08:00

And now, brought back by popular demand, the titleless story.

“I found a trading caravan set to cross the desert to Cairo. They agreed to be my guides across the wasteland. But during one night while we were crossing,” she sighed deeply, “our caravan was attacked by thieves. Most of my party was making fires for the night when dozens emerged from the shadows all around us. I had heard rumors about desert bandits; how they would take your camels and leave you stranded, but these were not like that. They attacked with single determination and killed…everyone. The sharp report of pistols, the flash of knives and scream of victims pierced my ears. A dark figure leaped on me and thrust a dagger into my side. He wrenched the weapon back, turned and grasped the pack on my camel but was shot through the head and tumbled to the sand. They had no need of our camels but were in want of our money. I lay with clenched teeth and clamped my hands to my ears until our assailants finished their bloody work. After the massacre, they tore the saddlebags off the camels and left us as quickly as they came. Most of my companions were dead, their bodies broken and scattered across the camp. The scene was unbearable.
She brushed her hair out of her face and rested her head in her hands as she struggled to relate these tragic events. At length, she continued, “With great effort I dragged myself away in attempt to rid my mind of the ghastly corpses and violent shrieks. Agony and sheer exhaustion overtook me and I collapsed a little way off. One of the slaves staggered to my side and gasped when he saw that I was bleeding terribly. He ripped my bloodied shirt and began dressing my wound while chanting in his curious tongue. Moonlight reflected on a dark pool growing beneath his arm. I pointed to the slash across his arm but he coiled back, and would not allow me to help. When he was done with my wounds, he turned to build a fire which was a roaring blaze in only a few moments. He unrolled a thick blanket on the ground and had me lay on it for the night. Sleep came fitfully and I watched the slave sit up all night staring into the fire.”

Third Installment

2006-01-01T11:03:00.000-08:00

Yes. More...

She laughed, “So inquisitive, sir? Well, I’ll tell you.” She set her mug down and shifted toward me. “I was a reporter. It was a relatively comfortable desk job that paid well, and I have a passion for writing.”
“We have a common interest, then.”
“Indeed,” she continued, “I found myself writing about places I had never been. Places I dreamt of every night," she paused, "I wanted something more than bringing to life the dead writings of those fortunate enough to have set foot on these lands of my dreams. My office walls closed in on me. The yellow beams of sunlight peering through my window blinds only mocked me. They were the silent heralds of the outside world. I knew that I must see these places for myself. As an excuse, I told myself I must travel the world to better my writing, but I knew that I would never return to the paper.
“So I quit my job,” she said.
“Quit, you say?” Rash though it was I could not help but admire the bravery it took to do such a thing. The desire for freedom drives man to impulsive deeds.
“Yes, I quit. I could stand the captivity no longer and boarded the first ship to Morocco, a British steamer. The voyage was long. I had much time to write and I must say there was much that needed to be written. I resolved to write a book. I wanted the book to change the way people thought of the world and would open the window blinds of the mind. I hated the memories of sitting in that dark room with a typewriter. Out of all the objects in the office, only the typewriter could make good my escape. Writing freed my mind of the agony of everything that was wrong in my world. At least, it occupied my attentions long enough to forget. If there were something wrong, even dreadfully wrong, I would write it. I nailed my qualms to dead paper from which they could not free themselves. I thought back on those unhappy times while I leaned on the ship rail. I loved the ocean and the salty spray on my face and legs. It washed away the evil thoughts.
“Morocco was only a stopping point. My plan was to cross the desert to Cairo and from there sail to India. There I would stay, for awhile, before I crossed the mountains to the dark lands beyond.”
She paused. A flame kindled in her eyes as she thought on such a tremendous expedition. Her fingers traced the edge of her mug. I myself could hardly conceive such an endeavor. It was merely a dream that my wildest hopes could not conjure. No, it was more than a dream…

Second Installment

2005-12-30T10:39:00.000-08:00

Here goes nothing.

“On one condition,” I said, “you tell me everything about yourself.”
She laughed a good-natured laugh and agreed. I had almost begun to speak when the barman approached us.
“Are you going to order something or aren’t you?”
“I’ll have some coffee, if you don’t mind,” I said. He rolled his eyes at the polite response.
“I’ll have the same,” the lady smiled.
The barman returned almost immediately with two mugs of scalding hot coffee, black as hell. The mugs themselves were red earthen clay, clumsy and awkward. Steam rolled off the brew in lucent swirls. The barman looked at her then me but we never broke our gaze. Exasperated, he shook his head and left.
I extended my hand. “Jude Nelson,” I said.
“Carly,” she accepted my hand.
“Carly…”
“Just Carly,” she laughed. I did not want to press her but dearly wondered why her full name was such a secret.
“Very well,” I sighed, “I am a writer. That is all there is to tell.”
“A writer? You gave me quite a scare when you stared at me from the door. I thought…oh, never mind that. Surely you can say more.”
“And to what end ma’am? There is little to tell. After all you said you would tell me everything about yourself.” This woman seemed so mysterious. It was as if she had a great deal to hide. We all hide something, but when I come across a woman that has very little she will tell and hides entirely behind a reticent mask with mystery’s dim rays gleaming through the cracks, you know you have found a life fully worth the trouble to uncover.
She looked across the table at me, smirking slightly and her eyes saying more than any words she might tell. And those eyes…penetrating and astute; my thoughts seemed to be clearly perceived by them. Try as I did to return such an intent look I could not. Instead, I looked down and chuckled a little. But when I raised my head she still stared into my eyes with a delicate finger idly twirling a stray blonde lock.
I could not bear the silent exchange of puzzling glances any longer. “Would another round of coffee loosen your tongue?” I smiled, “Or maybe something a little stronger?”
She smirked again, her cup half raised to her lips, “No, I believe this is strong enough.” Her shoulders relaxed and she closed her eyes. “But this reminds me,” she paused, “of a café far from here...”

I leaned forward intrigued, “Please, tell me more.”

First Installment

2005-12-28T16:34:00.000-08:00

This is the first installment of a story I am currently writing. If it's crap, say so. But tell me why. I welcome your comments/criticism. The setting is around the 1920s in the city one rainy night.

It had rained all week. The automobiles wallowed in the swelling deluge. The lampposts groped through the torrent with its brilliant rays. Such is how a story of this manner must begin. I advanced through the downpour, the collar of my coat turned up and my shoulders hunched. The street was crowded and the dull roar of the populace added to the perplexity of the scene. My intent for being out in such wretched weather was uncertain even to myself. That is, I had no reason. But I sought relief from the muddle of humanity in a small café along the street. As I shut the door behind me and entered the foyer, I was greeted by a respectable mustached gentleman who extended his hands to take my hat and coat. I shook my head without a word and pushed past him. I didn’t intend on staying that long. Just long enough to get warm and somewhat dry.
The café itself was filled with smoke which distorted the light cast by the few candles jutting out from the cherry wood walls. A few men sat idly around playing cards and drinking coffee and rum. But my eyes were soon drawn across the place to the back corner. There sat a woman, watching me from under the wide brim of her hat, revealing only her full red lips. Her eyes were veiled in the shadows. Blonde curling tresses flowed over her shoulders. But when she realized I was gazing back at her she brusquely shifted away. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching the distant exchange and wandered in her direction. She intrigued me and I wished to meet her.
I found myself opposite her more quickly than I had intended. I stood and she looked up at me. Her eyes were green, almost luminous, surrounded by pure piercing white. Immediately I knew that I was in the presence of a beautiful woman.
“May I sit here?” I asked. They were not the words I meant to say but I had little time to script myself.
She glanced around and then looked back at me, “There are plenty of other empty tables, don’t you think?” Her voice was gratifying though carrying derisive words. I was taken slightly aback by coarse reply. I cleared my throat and spoke again.
“If that’s the way you feel, ma’am, then I will inconvenience you no longer. Good night, ma’am.” I turned to walk away. I had only taken a few steps.
“Sir,” she called after me. I slowly turned to face her again, “forgive me. I mistook you merely for a scoundrel.” After a quick glance around the room for examples, she then looked back at me and smiled broadly. “Come, this seat is free. Now tell me what a gentleman is doing in a café so late this evening.”
Mistook me for a scoundrel. Oh, doubtless. Yet she did bid me speak with her and that is what I had wished. I tossed my hat on the table and seated myself across from her.

Meditate

2005-12-25T19:26:00.000-08:00

I read this passage recently and God has really used it to challenge my beliefs. Our understanding of Scripture constantly changes but God is constant. So, instead of giving my interpretation of the Scriptures, I want you to read it. Think about it for a long time. Soak it in.

Romans Chapter 7
What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, “You shall not covet.” 8 But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. Apart from the law, sin lies dead. 9 I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. 10 The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. 11 For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. 12 So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
13 Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. 14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. 15 I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. 17 So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.
21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23 but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

Winter of Discontent

2005-12-06T17:54:00.000-08:00

The Real Grinch This Year

2005-12-03T09:53:00.000-08:00

(Click to enlarge)

Worship God

2005-11-29T13:39:00.000-08:00

You love me more than any man
And breathe in me the breath of life
Sustaining me as You alone can
Shielding me from violent strife

All that You require of me
To recompense my humbling debt
Only this, to worship humbly
Adoring Him who set me free

I cast my crowns and vain conceits
Clanging on Heaven’s golden floor
And fall before You at your feet
Out from my soul Your glories pour

My mortal lips sought words of praise
My sin-scorched soul depraved my thoughts
He touched my lips, my face did raise
The wicked fled when I saw the Cross

--the Author

2005-11-26T17:32:00.000-08:00

China is the coolest place. Here's a picture I took of a shrine in the Tien Shan mountains. (Find Khazakstan and turn right.)

2005-11-16T16:42:00.000-08:00

Sorry about all those negative posts. I'm working on being positive. Hopefully the next few posts will have a bit less complaining and whining. I hate when other people do that and then I read my blog and realize that if I wasn't me then I would get on my nerves. I guess I do anyway at times...

2005-11-06T21:23:00.000-08:00

I wish that God would just sky-write His will for me. I'm so frustrated! There is never a moment's peace in my mind. It's not because I'm worried so much as I'm impatient when I have no idea what my choices are much less which to choose. I don't want to screw my life up. The Devil makes it way to easy for me to mess up. I guess that's the idea, right? sigh...

It's settled. I'll move to China and never come back.

Frustration in My Life

2005-09-26T17:12:00.000-07:00

"Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent."

Preach it. Man, is it ever true. And if you think I'm going to give you some recent examples you can just sit on it and rotate because it ain't happenin.

Before There Was Time

2005-09-25T20:11:00.000-07:00

Before there was time
There were visions in Your mind
There was death in the fall of mankind
But there was life in salvation's design
Before there were days
There were nights I could not see Your face
But the night could not keep me from grace
When You came and took my place

So I cry holy only begotten Son of God
Ancient of days
I cry holy only begotten Son of God
And sing the praises
Of the One who saved me
And the promises He made

Before there was time
You counted the hairs on my head
You knew all the words I've said
And You purchased me back from the dead
Before I was made
You searched me and knew my ways
You numbered all my days
And You set forth the steps I would take

You saved me; You raised me
You saved me; You pulled me from the grave

So I cry holy only begotten Son of God
Ancient of days
I cry Holy only begotten Son of God
And sing the praises
Of the one who saved me
And the promises He made
Before there was time

I am rebuked

2005-09-23T17:52:00.000-07:00

Romans 14 says: As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.
I had a lot of trouble swallowing this one. I find myself frustrated with people that judge me for how my convictions differ from theirs and get angry with the mud slinging and all, but at the same time find myself judging people who disagree with me. What am I thinking? Christ died for them too! God has welcomed them. It is pride that makes me quarrel with my brothers and sisters in Christ. It is pride that makes me force my opinions on others because I think they are wrong for being so "legalistic" or whatever. Who am I to judge their convictions? I am really rebuked by this.

Explanation

2005-09-22T14:26:00.000-07:00

This blog will be a place where people can get together and discuss the world's problems. Get busy. Actually, I'll only ask when I care what you think. If I don't care, I won't ask. Simple. I will also talk about God which is not a world problem but the world's answer. I want to talk about Him even more than the problems.