Wind is rustling leaves and branches outside the window behind me. Crickets are chirping. The occasional frog chimes in. A nice, gentle breeze is tickling the back of my neck. Summer has arrived, and with it, I have found excuses to think philosophical thoughts.
I was helping my father prepare the pool to be opened. He asked me to sweep up the leaves and pine needles on the patio. Like the angelic son that I am, I swept them up. The situation seemed silly to me as I thought about it. Below me was a pool. Its water looked gross and grimy.
Leaves, dirt, bugs, and bacteria congregated and conversed with each other. I could almost hear them mocking me while I swept up the pine needles on the surface.
Isn't that the tendency of Christians? We'll have all this sin and gunk in our lives. And we feel guilty about it. So we start sweeping up our hearts' patios. We make it look better. We point all questioners of our goodness towards the surface we've taken care of. After all, we dress "right." we listen to the "right" music. We say "heck" instead of "hell." And slap bumper stickers with "christian" sayings on our cars, then drive WAY over the speed limit. We put $20 in the offering plate, then spend hundreds of dollars entertaining ourselves. We roll our eyes at those foolish sinners while we're doing the exact same things. Or maybe worse.
I admit it. I'm as wrong as everyone else. Why do we feel justified and righteous because we shun the books we're supposed to, scowl at the music we're supposed to, and then go watch a curse-filled, sex-satured movie. And its ok, because on Sunday no one will make you feel guilty about it. Because they watched it too. Because somehow that makes it all ok.
Maybe we should spend less time sweeping our patios, and more time scraping the gunk out of the pool of our hearts. No amount of patio-sweeping will clean the pool. But if the pool is spotless, the surface will take care of itself. Maybe thats where our focus should lie. Maybe if our hearts were passionate for God, our actions would take care of themselves.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Multiphobia
I am haunted by things that shouldn't haunt anyone. They keep me up at night with spectral eyes that do nothing much but glare at me. Their presence sends me leaping into the atmosphere. I squirm, they smirk. Such is terror.
My plight is made all the worse by the constant mockery I shoulder. People laugh at me. Can I help what things scare me? NO! So don't mock. Don't judge. And don't call my fears "dumb" "irrational" or "ridiculous."
Just because butterflies and moths strike fear deep inside my heart, doesn't mean I'm a wimp. Don't act like being afraid of noodles that stand upright makes me less of a man. And why shouldn't sunflowers cause me to squirm? I didn't ask for these. I just have them.
My plight is made all the worse by the constant mockery I shoulder. People laugh at me. Can I help what things scare me? NO! So don't mock. Don't judge. And don't call my fears "dumb" "irrational" or "ridiculous."
Just because butterflies and moths strike fear deep inside my heart, doesn't mean I'm a wimp. Don't act like being afraid of noodles that stand upright makes me less of a man. And why shouldn't sunflowers cause me to squirm? I didn't ask for these. I just have them.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
A man torn in three.
I had all these plans of what to discuss with you fine readers. But now I'm sitting here. The keys holding up my fingers aren't as forgiving as I remembered. My plans, my thoughts and my wit all seem contrived. I've done it all before.
On one hand, I have the post about something interesting that happened to me today. But, in all honesty, I couldn't force myself to care. So how could I expect anyone else to?
Then, I have the goofy, random, non-sensical post that I could make up as I go. I just don't know... I mean, I could do it. Maybe I'd get a tired smile or two. But, frankly, I'm not in the right mindset. So it would feel forced. And I don't want that.
Finally, there is a sappy, philosophical post. I could pick some staunchly-held opinion of mine and defend it furiously. But that would also melt into the hopeless catergory of "uninspired" art and opinion.
I guess that brings me to a fourth option. The one I decided to go with. Its the honest one.
I actually don't know what to write about. So I'm writing about that. This is what most people don't see that writing entails. You inevitably end up sitting at a computer with some vague idea that you "should" be writing, but no idea what to write. So you write something like this. And hope that no one finds your honesty boring or distasteful.
I'd ask you why you're still reading this. You three. Why? Is it because its me? Because you feel its your duty? Or you want the same from me? Or is it to keep an eye on my emotional state? Or do you actually enjoy these escapades? I hope its the last. If its any of the others, then you should probably rethink your actions. If you're reading this out of a sense of duty to someone you love, please stop. I'll talk to myself day after day if thats what this blog ends up becoming.
Im not really sure I care about a certain number of posts every month anymore. I guess I just love to write. And I'll write anything and everything. Its me. Im this blog. And this blog is me. I'll never be the most interesting. Nor the most cared about. Certainly not the most worthy of attention or love. Im always being reminded of someone whose talent and personality shove mine to the back room wasteland of peoples' brains. Im trying to let it roll off my back. I'm me whether anyone is watching, laughing, loving or not.
And thats all I ever wanted anyway.
On one hand, I have the post about something interesting that happened to me today. But, in all honesty, I couldn't force myself to care. So how could I expect anyone else to?
Then, I have the goofy, random, non-sensical post that I could make up as I go. I just don't know... I mean, I could do it. Maybe I'd get a tired smile or two. But, frankly, I'm not in the right mindset. So it would feel forced. And I don't want that.
Finally, there is a sappy, philosophical post. I could pick some staunchly-held opinion of mine and defend it furiously. But that would also melt into the hopeless catergory of "uninspired" art and opinion.
I guess that brings me to a fourth option. The one I decided to go with. Its the honest one.
I actually don't know what to write about. So I'm writing about that. This is what most people don't see that writing entails. You inevitably end up sitting at a computer with some vague idea that you "should" be writing, but no idea what to write. So you write something like this. And hope that no one finds your honesty boring or distasteful.
I'd ask you why you're still reading this. You three. Why? Is it because its me? Because you feel its your duty? Or you want the same from me? Or is it to keep an eye on my emotional state? Or do you actually enjoy these escapades? I hope its the last. If its any of the others, then you should probably rethink your actions. If you're reading this out of a sense of duty to someone you love, please stop. I'll talk to myself day after day if thats what this blog ends up becoming.
Im not really sure I care about a certain number of posts every month anymore. I guess I just love to write. And I'll write anything and everything. Its me. Im this blog. And this blog is me. I'll never be the most interesting. Nor the most cared about. Certainly not the most worthy of attention or love. Im always being reminded of someone whose talent and personality shove mine to the back room wasteland of peoples' brains. Im trying to let it roll off my back. I'm me whether anyone is watching, laughing, loving or not.
And thats all I ever wanted anyway.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Cross My Heart
"You were ordinary until You came and saved me.
This is not what it seems.
Now You've taken me by surprise and given me new life."
- The Things You Were by Deas Vail
Memories came flooding back to me today, in the way they so often do. Good and bad memories alike. Three long years worth of both. The things I've seen. All I've learned. How God captured my attention. And how He brought me everything I needed. Whether that thing be a place where my newfound passion for Him could florish, a job so that I could learn to be a light for Him, or a girl named Meg. He's given me it all. My how I have changed.
The strange thing is, I had all of these memories because of a broken string. I shall start at the beginning of said memories.
It was 2008. I believe October, but I'm not positive. Up until that point, my life had been simple. I did what I was told because I was told to. I went to church on Sundays and sung the songs and answered all the questions. I genuinely believed that Jesus paid for my sins by dying on the cross. But thats as far as it went. I was trying to live the way I wanted, not how I knew God would want me to live.
As those lines so perfectly describe, God was "ordinary" for me. He didn't matter all that much. Not when what He said kept me from what I wanted. So I ignored what He said. And I did many things I now regret. But thats not the point of this post. Its purpose is to make one thing very clear. God changed me. He spun me around and sent me in the opposite direction from where my heart had been telling me to go.
It was that day in October. I had, not five minutes earlier, made the hardest decision of my life. I chose God's will over my own. Not because I had to. I wanted to. I wanted Him. I didn't care what consequences I'd have to face. And, believe me, there were many. Trust had to be won back, friendships had to be mended, and ties had to be severed. I won't get into that either. Because that is also not the point I mean to convey.
My mind was reeling on that day. I was lost and confused and broken-hearted. On my shelf I saw a cross necklace I had gotten for Christmas a year earlier. I hadn't worn it much. But, in that moment between the tears, I decided I wanted to. I needed something to remind me of what that day meant. My constant use of it after that day wasn't from superstitious beliefs. I just wanted a physical reminder that no object, no girl, and no idea would ever be closer to my heart than my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
That's what my heart became. It became His. I have no idea where my heart went but its long gone and I say "good riddance."
Here I sit. Nearly three years later. Past mistakes don't cross my mind very often. Instead, my attention is centered on a God who stole my heart, a girl whom He brought into my life after she had a little heart-change of her own, and a life that is headed towards terrifying, incredible things.
I wore that necklace almost every second of every day. It was always resting on my chest. Next to my heart, where it belonged. Well, today the string that held the cross broke. It lasted years. And during those years, I went from the boy scared to stand up for God if it meant making enemies in the process, to the young man praying about whether God could use his life for His service.
Its amazing. I can't take credit for any of it. Not the love God showers on me, despite my unworthiness. Not the girl who fell in love with a dork like me. And certainly not the life headed towards more than I could have dreamed up.
I wouldn't trade any of it. Not for the world.
And I plan on wearing that metal cross until the day I die. I want that cross in my presence, until I'm in my Savior's. I want to remember. I want to remember Christ's sacrifice for me and His leading in my life to get me where I am. I can't believe I ever had trouble giving my whole heart to Him. I can't believe I ever chose my own plan over His. Now that I've seen it, I just want His. (I did get a Meg, after all.)
This is not what it seems.
Now You've taken me by surprise and given me new life."
- The Things You Were by Deas Vail
Memories came flooding back to me today, in the way they so often do. Good and bad memories alike. Three long years worth of both. The things I've seen. All I've learned. How God captured my attention. And how He brought me everything I needed. Whether that thing be a place where my newfound passion for Him could florish, a job so that I could learn to be a light for Him, or a girl named Meg. He's given me it all. My how I have changed.
The strange thing is, I had all of these memories because of a broken string. I shall start at the beginning of said memories.
It was 2008. I believe October, but I'm not positive. Up until that point, my life had been simple. I did what I was told because I was told to. I went to church on Sundays and sung the songs and answered all the questions. I genuinely believed that Jesus paid for my sins by dying on the cross. But thats as far as it went. I was trying to live the way I wanted, not how I knew God would want me to live.
As those lines so perfectly describe, God was "ordinary" for me. He didn't matter all that much. Not when what He said kept me from what I wanted. So I ignored what He said. And I did many things I now regret. But thats not the point of this post. Its purpose is to make one thing very clear. God changed me. He spun me around and sent me in the opposite direction from where my heart had been telling me to go.
It was that day in October. I had, not five minutes earlier, made the hardest decision of my life. I chose God's will over my own. Not because I had to. I wanted to. I wanted Him. I didn't care what consequences I'd have to face. And, believe me, there were many. Trust had to be won back, friendships had to be mended, and ties had to be severed. I won't get into that either. Because that is also not the point I mean to convey.
My mind was reeling on that day. I was lost and confused and broken-hearted. On my shelf I saw a cross necklace I had gotten for Christmas a year earlier. I hadn't worn it much. But, in that moment between the tears, I decided I wanted to. I needed something to remind me of what that day meant. My constant use of it after that day wasn't from superstitious beliefs. I just wanted a physical reminder that no object, no girl, and no idea would ever be closer to my heart than my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
That's what my heart became. It became His. I have no idea where my heart went but its long gone and I say "good riddance."
Here I sit. Nearly three years later. Past mistakes don't cross my mind very often. Instead, my attention is centered on a God who stole my heart, a girl whom He brought into my life after she had a little heart-change of her own, and a life that is headed towards terrifying, incredible things.
I wore that necklace almost every second of every day. It was always resting on my chest. Next to my heart, where it belonged. Well, today the string that held the cross broke. It lasted years. And during those years, I went from the boy scared to stand up for God if it meant making enemies in the process, to the young man praying about whether God could use his life for His service.
Its amazing. I can't take credit for any of it. Not the love God showers on me, despite my unworthiness. Not the girl who fell in love with a dork like me. And certainly not the life headed towards more than I could have dreamed up.
I wouldn't trade any of it. Not for the world.
And I plan on wearing that metal cross until the day I die. I want that cross in my presence, until I'm in my Savior's. I want to remember. I want to remember Christ's sacrifice for me and His leading in my life to get me where I am. I can't believe I ever had trouble giving my whole heart to Him. I can't believe I ever chose my own plan over His. Now that I've seen it, I just want His. (I did get a Meg, after all.)
My Latest Song
I was a little bored at work tonight. So I wrote a song. I don't think it needs much introduction so I'll just get started.
Mega Cartridges and Their Offspring Which Includes Love, Mystery, Incompetent Narwhals, and "The Like" (But Not Regular Narwhals, Just The Useless Ones. Which As Everyone Knows, Is Just One Specific Narwhal Named Gregory Hall, Since Narwhals Tend To Be Relatively Useful Magical Creatures. Its The Elves You Have To Watch Out For.)
Mega, Mega, Mega
Mega Cartridges
They don't taste like ripple chips
They just hold napkins
And it is known
That napkins can be useful
When they wipe your face
But Gregory isn't useful
He just...
TAKES UP SPAAAAAAACCCCCEEEEE
Oh MEGA
Mega, mega, mega
MEGA CAR-TA-RIDGES!
Woo!
*bows* No, no. Im not brilliant. Just gifted. No, don't throw money. Thats too much. You're too kind.
WOOT!
Short blurb here. I just passed 1000 total views. Sure 872 of those were me refreshing over and over again, but I think we can ignore that. *Does a happy "over 1000 views" dance*
What boils one man's innards, melts another man's heart.
(Listen to this song. It fits. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0sG40EWSCM)
Ahhhhhhhhhh...
Summer.
Heat.
90 Degrees.
The sound of millions of New Englanders complaining.
How quickly they've forgotten January. Do they not remember groaning when yet another snowstorm showed up in the forecast? Or grumbling during weeks and weeks of rain? Where is their merriment? Summer is here! Dance! Sing! Shout for joy! Make poetical sounds of inexpressible pleasure! Use meaningless, yet impressive similes, dang it! This day is like the fervor exhibited during a turnip's bathing month. So be happy.
Personally, I wouldn't trade this for the world. I love it. Everything is so sticky. The air feels like soup. And you can't step outside without taking notice of a certain flaming ball of gas. Im talking to you, Sol. I applaud your efforts. You are in our thoughts today. As it should always be.
I've been asked recently why I love the extremes of temperature so much. Its simple, really. Imagine its 10 below zero. The wind is howling. And you haven't stopped shaking uncontrollably for about three weeks. Now, imagine you just walked inside your house and everything is toasty and warm and a fire is blazing in the fireplace. You're going to enjoy it, right? You'll run right up to it, get as close as you can without any serious crisping happening. On any other day, you'd barely notice the fire, never mind appreciate it.
Now, imagine something else. (This will take all your brain power, so be focused.) Imagine its really REALLY hot out. Got it? Ok. Its freakishly hot and suddenly a breeze blows across your face. Have you ever enjoyed wind so much? It sure doesn't seem like it. Or maybe pretend that it starts raining. If you can keep yourself from dancing in the rain like a little child, then you must be a robot or something. Its pure happiness.
I guess thats why I love this. It makes me uncomfortable. But there's something magical about being uncomfortable. You don't enjoy ice cold water until your throat is as dry as sandpaper. You don't like taking a shower until you're caked in mud. You don't notice silly things like shade until the sun is melting you from the inside out.
Believe it or not, being uncomfortable is a good thing. Enjoy it. It won't last. Before you know it summer will be over and you'll be complaining that it was gone too fast. Days will slip by far too quickly. Everything will be comfy. And you won't notice any of it. So let the bad, squirmy things of today bring the good, simple, pleasant ones to your attention.
Earth really IS filled to the stratosphere with magic, and wonder, and God's goodness. Let the gift of sticky, boiling days bring that to your attention.
Ahhhhhhhhhh...
Summer.
Heat.
90 Degrees.
The sound of millions of New Englanders complaining.
How quickly they've forgotten January. Do they not remember groaning when yet another snowstorm showed up in the forecast? Or grumbling during weeks and weeks of rain? Where is their merriment? Summer is here! Dance! Sing! Shout for joy! Make poetical sounds of inexpressible pleasure! Use meaningless, yet impressive similes, dang it! This day is like the fervor exhibited during a turnip's bathing month. So be happy.
Personally, I wouldn't trade this for the world. I love it. Everything is so sticky. The air feels like soup. And you can't step outside without taking notice of a certain flaming ball of gas. Im talking to you, Sol. I applaud your efforts. You are in our thoughts today. As it should always be.
I've been asked recently why I love the extremes of temperature so much. Its simple, really. Imagine its 10 below zero. The wind is howling. And you haven't stopped shaking uncontrollably for about three weeks. Now, imagine you just walked inside your house and everything is toasty and warm and a fire is blazing in the fireplace. You're going to enjoy it, right? You'll run right up to it, get as close as you can without any serious crisping happening. On any other day, you'd barely notice the fire, never mind appreciate it.
Now, imagine something else. (This will take all your brain power, so be focused.) Imagine its really REALLY hot out. Got it? Ok. Its freakishly hot and suddenly a breeze blows across your face. Have you ever enjoyed wind so much? It sure doesn't seem like it. Or maybe pretend that it starts raining. If you can keep yourself from dancing in the rain like a little child, then you must be a robot or something. Its pure happiness.
I guess thats why I love this. It makes me uncomfortable. But there's something magical about being uncomfortable. You don't enjoy ice cold water until your throat is as dry as sandpaper. You don't like taking a shower until you're caked in mud. You don't notice silly things like shade until the sun is melting you from the inside out.
Believe it or not, being uncomfortable is a good thing. Enjoy it. It won't last. Before you know it summer will be over and you'll be complaining that it was gone too fast. Days will slip by far too quickly. Everything will be comfy. And you won't notice any of it. So let the bad, squirmy things of today bring the good, simple, pleasant ones to your attention.
Earth really IS filled to the stratosphere with magic, and wonder, and God's goodness. Let the gift of sticky, boiling days bring that to your attention.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tick talk.
I did yard work today. I told myself I wouldn't post about such a boring subject, but something really interesting happened. Allow me to relay my experience to you.
I got home recently and checked for ticks. You see, I had spent the entire day in the woods and walking through tall grass. I was greeted by a small creature with his face inside my epidermis. I shan't be naming that guy. He's evil. I hate him.
Seriously! The nerve of him! He was trying to get inside my body. I tried to rip him out and got most of him. His face remains inside of me. It was actually really creepy. As hard as I pulled, he held on tighter.
Josh actually agrees with me. We're both afraid of and creeped out by ticks now. As if, I needed yet another irrational fear.
I got home recently and checked for ticks. You see, I had spent the entire day in the woods and walking through tall grass. I was greeted by a small creature with his face inside my epidermis. I shan't be naming that guy. He's evil. I hate him.
Seriously! The nerve of him! He was trying to get inside my body. I tried to rip him out and got most of him. His face remains inside of me. It was actually really creepy. As hard as I pulled, he held on tighter.
Josh actually agrees with me. We're both afraid of and creeped out by ticks now. As if, I needed yet another irrational fear.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Forgive me.
I had intended to post about Mountain Dew. In fact, I wrote the whole thing out. it was just when I was typing my last word, I hit some button I didn't know existed. It deleted everything. Everything. I nearly cried. To make matters worse, it saved the blank page as a draft.
I freaked out. And that was my stupidest mistake in some time.
You see, I backed up a few pages. Thinking that somehow I could access previous drafts. Nope. There's only one way to do that. Its called an "undo" button. And do you know what backing out of the page did? Thats right. It erased the previous drafts permanently. Yup.
Ill probably get back to this post soon. It was good with Mountain Dew, pandas, bakers, and an alien priest who loves story-telling and the color green. I just can't do it tonight. Its too painful. And I have too much school work to get done first.
Sorry bout that.
I freaked out. And that was my stupidest mistake in some time.
You see, I backed up a few pages. Thinking that somehow I could access previous drafts. Nope. There's only one way to do that. Its called an "undo" button. And do you know what backing out of the page did? Thats right. It erased the previous drafts permanently. Yup.
Ill probably get back to this post soon. It was good with Mountain Dew, pandas, bakers, and an alien priest who loves story-telling and the color green. I just can't do it tonight. Its too painful. And I have too much school work to get done first.
Sorry bout that.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Francis, the demonic popcorn kernel.
I got in fight with a demonic popcorn kernel today. After much bloodshed, I was crowned the victor. I must say though. I am impressed with its fortitude and strength. It held on for a good half an hour.
In a feat of mind-blowing skill, it not only wedged itself completely between two teeth so that it was not peeking out either of the sides. It also embedded itself into my gums so that a nice, steady trickle of blood dripped down my teeth.
As you may have guessed, anger and bitterness are welling up inside my heart. I really want to be mad at that little guy. But...I can't. He was just too dang amazing. So, in his honor, I'm gonna name him Francis. Well done, Francis
In a feat of mind-blowing skill, it not only wedged itself completely between two teeth so that it was not peeking out either of the sides. It also embedded itself into my gums so that a nice, steady trickle of blood dripped down my teeth.
As you may have guessed, anger and bitterness are welling up inside my heart. I really want to be mad at that little guy. But...I can't. He was just too dang amazing. So, in his honor, I'm gonna name him Francis. Well done, Francis
Friday, May 20, 2011
Things meant to be learned in the heart, not the mind.
It never fails. As soon as I get to a Bible passage I've read a thousand times, God forces me to see it from another viewpoint. The moment I get that smug, I-know-this-already feeling, Life comes crashing in to prove me wrong.
I was reading James 2 yesterday. Specifically, verses 17 and 18. They are...
"Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works; show me thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith by my works."
Verses like these terrify me. I'm forced to sit here and wonder if my life and my actions match up with the faith I claim to have. Do yourself a favor and wonder right along with me. We could all use a little more self-examination. Do we act like we should? Do our works provide the undeniable proof that our faith is true, real, and tangible?
Any honest person will admit that more often than not, we don't act like we should. That's part of being human. We're sinners. Saved or not, sin will be a part of us as long as we live on Earth. That's not an excuse though.
A person with faith will act differently. Faith is a belief in things unseen. There's no physical proof to back up our faith. Rather, its the faith and the actions that result, that prove what we believe. So, does our faith back it up?
I recommend you try what I did this morning. Ask God to provide ways for your faith to be turned into action. Every single time I pray for such a thing, something happens extremely soon. Today, for example. God gave me a choice. Go against Him even though I could justify it and no one would know what I did. Or follow that all-too-quiet voice in my heart pleading with me to trust God's will.
I'm not saying this to toot my own horn. I really wanted to go against God. I wanted my own way. But my heart has been slowly molded to God's will. Much to my own surprise, I did what was right. Why? Reason says I could have gotten away with it. And even not felt guilty about it. Yet I didn't do it.
What changed? The simple answer is, Me. I changed. God changed me. My faith in Him has produced action. I can't help but praise God. Its real! My faith is alive!
Don't get lulled into thinking (even subconsciously) that our works are the reason God saved us. Our faith is what saves us. Works merely provide evidence that our faith is alive and well.
I understand that for as long as I live, my faith will be tested and tried. I pray to God that He continues His work in me and that my faith is found true always. I know I'll stumble. I won't always choose rightly. But I WANT to. And that's all God needs. Slowly and surely, He'll keep molding my heart to act like His does.
Don't get caught up in "life" like I tend to do. Follow God with everything your heart has in it. Don't get sidetracked or distracted from the real reasons we're here. Love God. Let your faith grow. No. Don't "let" it grow. Plead with God to strengthen it. Make that your single greatest wish. Make THAT the reason you get up in the morning. I can't think of a better way to ensure a "Well done, my good and faithful servant," on that day when we arrive in Heaven. And I can't think of anything I want more than to hear those words come out of the mouth of my Savior.
I was reading James 2 yesterday. Specifically, verses 17 and 18. They are...
"Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works; show me thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith by my works."
Verses like these terrify me. I'm forced to sit here and wonder if my life and my actions match up with the faith I claim to have. Do yourself a favor and wonder right along with me. We could all use a little more self-examination. Do we act like we should? Do our works provide the undeniable proof that our faith is true, real, and tangible?
Any honest person will admit that more often than not, we don't act like we should. That's part of being human. We're sinners. Saved or not, sin will be a part of us as long as we live on Earth. That's not an excuse though.
A person with faith will act differently. Faith is a belief in things unseen. There's no physical proof to back up our faith. Rather, its the faith and the actions that result, that prove what we believe. So, does our faith back it up?
I recommend you try what I did this morning. Ask God to provide ways for your faith to be turned into action. Every single time I pray for such a thing, something happens extremely soon. Today, for example. God gave me a choice. Go against Him even though I could justify it and no one would know what I did. Or follow that all-too-quiet voice in my heart pleading with me to trust God's will.
I'm not saying this to toot my own horn. I really wanted to go against God. I wanted my own way. But my heart has been slowly molded to God's will. Much to my own surprise, I did what was right. Why? Reason says I could have gotten away with it. And even not felt guilty about it. Yet I didn't do it.
What changed? The simple answer is, Me. I changed. God changed me. My faith in Him has produced action. I can't help but praise God. Its real! My faith is alive!
Don't get lulled into thinking (even subconsciously) that our works are the reason God saved us. Our faith is what saves us. Works merely provide evidence that our faith is alive and well.
I understand that for as long as I live, my faith will be tested and tried. I pray to God that He continues His work in me and that my faith is found true always. I know I'll stumble. I won't always choose rightly. But I WANT to. And that's all God needs. Slowly and surely, He'll keep molding my heart to act like His does.
Don't get caught up in "life" like I tend to do. Follow God with everything your heart has in it. Don't get sidetracked or distracted from the real reasons we're here. Love God. Let your faith grow. No. Don't "let" it grow. Plead with God to strengthen it. Make that your single greatest wish. Make THAT the reason you get up in the morning. I can't think of a better way to ensure a "Well done, my good and faithful servant," on that day when we arrive in Heaven. And I can't think of anything I want more than to hear those words come out of the mouth of my Savior.
Pirates and Ninjas
This weekend, at the movie theater where I am employed, we got Pirates Of The Caribbean 4. I have all these pirate-loving customers coming into my line. Don't get me wrong. I have absolutely nothing against pirates. I find them to be cool and awesome and, in general, a group of people who really have their collective accent down pat. Seriously, that kind of organization from a rag-tag group of thieves is impressive. They should get a medal or something.
There's just one problem. I like ninjas better. So when I'm dealing with person after person who falls on the "pirate" side of the fence, it begins to feel like I'm breaking some sort of a rule. Which is ironic, since the only rule pirates hold with any consistency is to break as many rules as possible.
Sure, pirates have Johnny Depp. But honestly? As anything other than Jack Sparrow, the dude scares me.
Ninjas have turtles. And a whole bunch of Asians.
Pirates do what? Drink rum? Steal stuff? Figure out how to NOT bathe for as long as possible? Abandon all morality? They're basically college students with awesome accents and a great fashion sense. Think gay Australian college students.
Ninjas are practically invisible. They can kill anyone without being seen. They have a code of honor. They also have a fantastic fashion sense. AND they have turtles. Need anymore be said? I thought not.
There's just one problem. I like ninjas better. So when I'm dealing with person after person who falls on the "pirate" side of the fence, it begins to feel like I'm breaking some sort of a rule. Which is ironic, since the only rule pirates hold with any consistency is to break as many rules as possible.
Sure, pirates have Johnny Depp. But honestly? As anything other than Jack Sparrow, the dude scares me.
Ninjas have turtles. And a whole bunch of Asians.
Pirates do what? Drink rum? Steal stuff? Figure out how to NOT bathe for as long as possible? Abandon all morality? They're basically college students with awesome accents and a great fashion sense. Think gay Australian college students.
Ninjas are practically invisible. They can kill anyone without being seen. They have a code of honor. They also have a fantastic fashion sense. AND they have turtles. Need anymore be said? I thought not.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Glowy and Beamy - Dolphin Rain
This will be a continuous series of posts every so often. I shall describe each of the things that leave me feeling "beamy" inside.
There are many things that infuse joy into my heart. Like injections of happiness, they make life glow. I like glowing life. These are the things that make life worth its while. All I can hope is that they inspire you. Maybe you'll try a few yourself. Or maybe you'll start thinking about which things make your life glowy and beamy.
This very night, I was outside. Raindrops from the enlightened clouds plunged to my head and the soft grass. The circular speakers resting in my ears spun their musical web in an orbit I couldn't ever forget. They played a song. This song. Between the Dihydrogen Monoxide bliss and the Cousteau-ian musical magic, I couldn't contain myself. I danced. I danced like no one but the clouds were watching me. And watch, they did.
My arms twisted in awkward motions. My feet pattered in the muddy earth. My hips spun with a fervor not seen since 1958. One thing, and one thing only, was missing from it. A best friend to join in the bliss with me. Other than that, the moment was giving perfection a run for its money. Perfection is sweating it out as we speak. Which explains the raindrops.
Most every human being should at some point blast "Jacques Cousteau" in their Ipod and dance in the pouring rain. Sure, Ipods all over this terrestrial realm will fizzle out and die, but so will our misery and stress. So, go find the nearest rain cloud. And dance perfection away.
-N8
There are many things that infuse joy into my heart. Like injections of happiness, they make life glow. I like glowing life. These are the things that make life worth its while. All I can hope is that they inspire you. Maybe you'll try a few yourself. Or maybe you'll start thinking about which things make your life glowy and beamy.
This very night, I was outside. Raindrops from the enlightened clouds plunged to my head and the soft grass. The circular speakers resting in my ears spun their musical web in an orbit I couldn't ever forget. They played a song. This song. Between the Dihydrogen Monoxide bliss and the Cousteau-ian musical magic, I couldn't contain myself. I danced. I danced like no one but the clouds were watching me. And watch, they did.
My arms twisted in awkward motions. My feet pattered in the muddy earth. My hips spun with a fervor not seen since 1958. One thing, and one thing only, was missing from it. A best friend to join in the bliss with me. Other than that, the moment was giving perfection a run for its money. Perfection is sweating it out as we speak. Which explains the raindrops.
Most every human being should at some point blast "Jacques Cousteau" in their Ipod and dance in the pouring rain. Sure, Ipods all over this terrestrial realm will fizzle out and die, but so will our misery and stress. So, go find the nearest rain cloud. And dance perfection away.
-N8
And then there were four...
I promise to do a serious blog post later, but for now I just wanted to mention the existence of my fourth blog. It is entitled "Dodging the awkward bullet." And it is located at "Aaawwwkkkwwwaaarrrddd.blogspot.com" (It seems like a lot, but each letter in "awkward" is just repeated 3 times.)
The whole point of it was to have a specific place to record all the awkward things that happen to me and to pretty much anyone who reads the blog. Seriously. Send me a submission, and I shall post it. I may even start posting awkward moments that happen to other random people too.
If I get that desperate.
-Hi_am The Nate
The whole point of it was to have a specific place to record all the awkward things that happen to me and to pretty much anyone who reads the blog. Seriously. Send me a submission, and I shall post it. I may even start posting awkward moments that happen to other random people too.
If I get that desperate.
-Hi_am The Nate
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Smiles Not Expected 2
It is time once again. Time for me to once again discuss the faces I see in everyday objects. Its been a while. So I have a lot of faces I've collected. Feel free to ignore my commentary. Its more for my own benefit than anyone else's.
Pac-cake!
This little guy is hard to see. The eyes are simple. Anyone can pick out the huge circles. What's difficult is seeing the lettering beneath the right eye as a mouth. If you look at it like that, he's obviously in pain. I suppose there are a few more faces in there as well. But I'll let you find those yourself. I don't need to confuse you anymore than I already have. Just do me one favor. As desperately as I might appear to need it, don't send some people to take me to the looney bin. I'm not really (all that) crazy. Ok, I am. Just put the phone down.
Yup. This one's for you, Mom. The dishes are actually sticking their tongue out at you. If a few are "accidentally" broken after you see this, we'll all know why.
Shiloh's toys creep me out. They are WAY too happy to have his slobber dripping down their surfaces.
There's a thin line between having fun while doing yard work, and defacing church property. Thankfully, I don't pay attention to that line for a few reasons. 1. No one would notice those two unnecessary mounds of dirt. Not with all the other useful work we did thats also in this picture. 2. Its clearly Josh holding the shovel. They can't prove I was involved. 3. The smiley face is just too cute to think of justice whilst looking at it.
The red/blue markers on the knobs are the eyes, the faucet is the nose, and the drain is the mouth. I think what we should all take away from this picture is that sinks like to drink their own snot. Yeah, I know...You'll never think about washing your hands the same way again.
Toothpaste tongue!
I think we can all agree that this is the absolute cutest barbeque face ever seen. He tasted pretty good too.
Pac-cake!
Who doesn't love a wooden woot face? It makes me think of an IKEA commercial. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6C7oqXewyCE)
Here's a challenge for you all. Find the face. Go on. REALLY look for it. I bet you won't find it.
This is what happens when some delicious cookies decide to mock the face I was making when I was looking at them.
So those are my pictures. I hope they put smiles on all of your faces. As they did mine.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Swimming in the company of dolphins, eating apple pie, pushing some daisies around, and other American customs that really aren't, but should be.
A few dozen orange streetlights whisk past my vision. It was right about then that philosophical thoughts stirred into my brain.
Speed limits aren't there to hold us back, but to keep us from our past.
That's what I thought. Now, let me explain. Don't worry. I will get back to the promised subjects of dolphins, pie, daisies, and America. Let me get metaphorical first.
My life has been a roller coaster of sorts. Specifically, the last few years. There's a lot of bad stuff back there. I'd rather not think about it. But its still all there. Haunting me. The last thing I want is to relive it. Ironically its exactly that wish that puts me at risk for reliving it.
After all the friends I've lost for various reasons, the arguments I've had, and the grudges I've held; I have learned a lot. Not nearly as much as other people, to be sure. But that hardly makes the things I have learned unimportant.
And as painful as it is to study my past mistakes, I need to. And I need to act differently in the future as a result. I need to set up rules to avoid hurting myself and others in the same way. What I need is a speed limit or two.
What, you ask, do dolphins, pie, daisies, and America have to do with those thoughts? Very much. To me, that is. You see, today was a great day. It started with the purchase of a long-awaited CD. (Swimming With Dolphins is amazing!!!) ((See? That's the dolphins part.)) Then I ate some scrumptious (Yes, Meg. I had to. :P You're rolling your eyes, aren't you? Either that or picturing that poor dude.) apple pie made by an amazing girlfriend of mine. She's incredible. And I'm not merely discussing her baking abilities. Everything about her is beyond description. I mean, she loves me! That should be explanation enough. Then I watched one of my favoritest shows with most of my favoritest people. (That's the Daisies part.) (((I sincerely believe all Americans, and even humans in general should practice these activities every day.)))
It was somewhere on the ride home while I pondered my day, that I decided something. I love my life. I love the people in it. I love the places God is leading me. I love falling deeper in love with Him everyday. Also, with Meg. I fall in love with her too. Every single day.
Its just pretty great. Not without its challenges, certainly. But it is more than I dreamed it would be. And here I am. Nothing's perfect, but everything is amazing. Everything's a miracle (DOLPHINS!) And none of it would have happened had I not done what I did in my past. I had to go through that to learn what I did. So I could be here. While I may not enjoy thoughts of what happened, I'm glad it did.
I wouldn't trade my life for anything at all. I'm growing closer to God everyday. I have girl who loves me and always will. I have a family to enjoy it all with. I have future before me made possible by the painful past behind me. And I'm doing what I love by writing on this very blog. And whats more, other people are enjoying it. I couldn't ask for more. God in His wisdom has given me it all. As He always will.
Speed limits aren't there to hold us back, but to keep us from our past.
That's what I thought. Now, let me explain. Don't worry. I will get back to the promised subjects of dolphins, pie, daisies, and America. Let me get metaphorical first.
My life has been a roller coaster of sorts. Specifically, the last few years. There's a lot of bad stuff back there. I'd rather not think about it. But its still all there. Haunting me. The last thing I want is to relive it. Ironically its exactly that wish that puts me at risk for reliving it.
After all the friends I've lost for various reasons, the arguments I've had, and the grudges I've held; I have learned a lot. Not nearly as much as other people, to be sure. But that hardly makes the things I have learned unimportant.
And as painful as it is to study my past mistakes, I need to. And I need to act differently in the future as a result. I need to set up rules to avoid hurting myself and others in the same way. What I need is a speed limit or two.
What, you ask, do dolphins, pie, daisies, and America have to do with those thoughts? Very much. To me, that is. You see, today was a great day. It started with the purchase of a long-awaited CD. (Swimming With Dolphins is amazing!!!) ((See? That's the dolphins part.)) Then I ate some scrumptious (Yes, Meg. I had to. :P You're rolling your eyes, aren't you? Either that or picturing that poor dude.) apple pie made by an amazing girlfriend of mine. She's incredible. And I'm not merely discussing her baking abilities. Everything about her is beyond description. I mean, she loves me! That should be explanation enough. Then I watched one of my favoritest shows with most of my favoritest people. (That's the Daisies part.) (((I sincerely believe all Americans, and even humans in general should practice these activities every day.)))
It was somewhere on the ride home while I pondered my day, that I decided something. I love my life. I love the people in it. I love the places God is leading me. I love falling deeper in love with Him everyday. Also, with Meg. I fall in love with her too. Every single day.
Its just pretty great. Not without its challenges, certainly. But it is more than I dreamed it would be. And here I am. Nothing's perfect, but everything is amazing. Everything's a miracle (DOLPHINS!) And none of it would have happened had I not done what I did in my past. I had to go through that to learn what I did. So I could be here. While I may not enjoy thoughts of what happened, I'm glad it did.
I wouldn't trade my life for anything at all. I'm growing closer to God everyday. I have girl who loves me and always will. I have a family to enjoy it all with. I have future before me made possible by the painful past behind me. And I'm doing what I love by writing on this very blog. And whats more, other people are enjoying it. I couldn't ask for more. God in His wisdom has given me it all. As He always will.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Missed something.
My last post a few minutes ago was about forgiving our enemies. In reading it over, I discovered a huge point I missed. Instead of writing it in now, Im making this a seperate, yet connected post.
What could I in my infinite and unspeakable wisdom have possibly missed, you ask? (That was sarcasm for those reading this. You can actually speak about my infinite wisdom quite easily. Seriously. It rolls off the tongue. Try it. "Nate's wisdom astounds me!" Try saying that! You'll feel better about yourself, your quality of life will sky-rocket and maybe even take out a satellite or two, and you won't need to worry about your fiber in-take. Don't believe me? Say it for yourself. Just make sure to relish the pronunciation of "wisdom." Thats where the irreplacable joy comes from.) ((That was actually sarcasm too. Don't worry. You won't see anymore of that from me.)) (((Aaaannnndddd...that was sarcasm too. I need help.))) ((((That wasn't sarcasm.))))
Anyway, back to what I missed. I missed Romans 5:8. Which is...
But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
Here I am bemoaning my fate and lot in life. I have to forgive my enemies! The horrors! Yet I managed to forget that my savior Jesus Christ did the same thing for me 2000 years ago. Actually he did more. I had rebelled against Him in every area. And what did He do? He forgave me, sure. But He had to die a brutally painful death on the cross to do so. Now, who am I to complain about forgiving someone who hurt me?
What could I in my infinite and unspeakable wisdom have possibly missed, you ask? (That was sarcasm for those reading this. You can actually speak about my infinite wisdom quite easily. Seriously. It rolls off the tongue. Try it. "Nate's wisdom astounds me!" Try saying that! You'll feel better about yourself, your quality of life will sky-rocket and maybe even take out a satellite or two, and you won't need to worry about your fiber in-take. Don't believe me? Say it for yourself. Just make sure to relish the pronunciation of "wisdom." Thats where the irreplacable joy comes from.) ((That was actually sarcasm too. Don't worry. You won't see anymore of that from me.)) (((Aaaannnndddd...that was sarcasm too. I need help.))) ((((That wasn't sarcasm.))))
Anyway, back to what I missed. I missed Romans 5:8. Which is...
But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
Here I am bemoaning my fate and lot in life. I have to forgive my enemies! The horrors! Yet I managed to forget that my savior Jesus Christ did the same thing for me 2000 years ago. Actually he did more. I had rebelled against Him in every area. And what did He do? He forgave me, sure. But He had to die a brutally painful death on the cross to do so. Now, who am I to complain about forgiving someone who hurt me?
Don't bring a cow to a bull fight.
Here I sit. A heaping pile of happiness is both before me and behind me. No, not a literal heaping pile of happiness. Its a figure of speech. That I made up. Maybe you should start studying the subtleties of the english language. Clearly, my budget for this blog isn't in the "I can afford buying surrounding piles of happiness straight from Uzbekistan" catergory. Its more like the "Will work for horrible bovine related puns" region.
Once again I am typing disjointed and unfunny phrases in the hopes that someone will pay attention and maybe even enjoy it. I had meant to write something meaningful. I suppose I'll try that.
For several weeks, a theme has been recurring in my life. God has a different idea of who I should be than everyone else does.
Society, people, books, movies, TV, and well pretty much everything tell me what I should be doing. God tells me something else. The world says I need to be tough. I need to fight anyone and everyone who gets in my way or hurts me. It says that a real man is one who is tough.
God's wisdom seems to be a strange concept. When someone hurts me, my reaction is to march right up to them, look them in the eye, and then wallop them also in the eye. But here's what God says, in Proverbs 14:
And then in Chapter 15,
Once again I am typing disjointed and unfunny phrases in the hopes that someone will pay attention and maybe even enjoy it. I had meant to write something meaningful. I suppose I'll try that.
For several weeks, a theme has been recurring in my life. God has a different idea of who I should be than everyone else does.
Society, people, books, movies, TV, and well pretty much everything tell me what I should be doing. God tells me something else. The world says I need to be tough. I need to fight anyone and everyone who gets in my way or hurts me. It says that a real man is one who is tough.
God's wisdom seems to be a strange concept. When someone hurts me, my reaction is to march right up to them, look them in the eye, and then wallop them also in the eye. But here's what God says, in Proverbs 14:
29 Whoever is patient has great understanding,
but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.
but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.
And then in Chapter 15,
32 Better a patient person than a warrior,
one with self-control than one who takes a city.
one with self-control than one who takes a city.
God values patience and self-control more than the ability to fight well. Thats something I have a hard time understanding. I generally feel inferior to the guys who are tougher than I am. The ones who are strong and muscular and fight often seem to be more like...well...men.
I feel less worthy of the life I've been blessed with. But whats worse is that this desire to "be a man" overwhelms me sometimes. So I attempt to put aside my nature, which is to be patient and controlled and caring. I try to do so because I see strength and toughness as more worthy traits. Clearly God doesn't.
So why do I fight it? (Its not like there's a shortage of people who admire or even love that part of me.) God has given me a gift. He's given me a spirit already bent towards Him. (At least in this area.) And yet, in my effort to impress people or to prove something, I fight it.
Maybe those verses make it seem like God is looking for wusses. He's not. He's looking for the people who are strong, not as we see strength, but as He does. When people hurt us, when they trample us and back stab us, as they so often do. God asks us to do the impossible. No, not track them down and beat the living snot out of them. He wants us to be patient. And to go to Him. He wants us to pray for those who hurt us, those who only deserve our hate. And God asks us to love them.
Thats much easier said than done.
Sure, if your sibling does something selfish and stupid, you'll be mad. But eventually the natural affection we all have for family takes over. What if the person does something that the affection you might have had fizzles for good? Or you never had affection in the first place?We're still to forgive. And we're always to love.
Think of the person you most dislike, maybe even hate. Do you have it? Their image in your head? Now love them.
You're probably thinking what I'm thinking. Something like, "Wait. WHAT?!?! No, not ____, anyone but _____. I have to love _____? The Bible couldn't have meant that!" It did. I don't think God expects us to walk up to our greatest enemy and smother them in a passionate hug.
But pray for them. Genuinely want whats best for them. Forgive them. Don't hold a grudge. And if the time comes when God asks you to put aside your differences for His sake, be willing to do so.
Let me confess something. This is the hardest blog post I've ever written. I REALLY don't want to take my own advice. But it isn't really mine. Its God's. My hurt is great. I don't want to forgive this person. I want to hold onto a grudge and be mean and condescending at every chance I get. I want to make this person feel as worthless as I've felt because of them. And quite honestly...thats disgusting.
Its human, sure. Everyone does it at one point or another. But its not what God wants. Maybe the heart for peacefulness and forgiveness that God gave me was for this reason. Maybe God's preparing me to reach out to this person someday. Or this is practice for forgiving a future enemy. Or maybe someone who needs me to continue loving them through their mistakes. *shrugs* I don't really know. All I know is that, whatever anyone might think of me. I need to serve God. This will be a struggle. But I'll come out the other side better. I've already forgiven people I didn't think I could. Some several times. This is just another one of those moments.
Most people will see this God-given attitude of mine and think of it as weak. God doesn't. And with any luck, a few other people won't as well.
Sincerely,
A fuming Hiram
P.S. 25:9151412258151652015252085131142515214519518225
Friday, May 13, 2011
From Posessive Demons To A Super-Powered Alien To Whom I Am Compared
It was on a Thursday night roughly 5 years ago that I was bored. In my crushing boredom, I turned on the TV. I flipped through channel after channel with an apathy only seen during your average calculus class. Suddenly my thumb stopped the consistent pressing motion. It stopped on a show. Because that show had caught my attention. That show was Smallville. And contrary to what you may have assumed, it was our second meeting.
At an earlier time, I had witnessed commercials and previews for Smallville. And, honestly, it freaked me out. I thought it was scary and I wondered why anyone would watch a show like that.
Then my boredom and the Season 5 finale happened. Maybe it was the small child possessed by an evil alien spirit quite literally tearing guards to shreds, or maybe it was the idea of a show about Superman before he was Superman. Either way, one 12 year old boy was hooked. I devoted years of my life to both catching up on the previous five seasons and religiously following the rest of the series as it progressed.
To all who have watched any episode of this show, it has its problems. At times, its cheesy and lame. At other times, its plot is all over the place and seems to be allergic to logic. Its blunt. It appears to have skipped school the day they studied "subtlety." Also, it is always frustrating.
But its also good. And true. And if I'm being honest, its inspired me to run around pretending to destroy stuff, and run super fast and fly around the world on more than one occasion.
I've spent an exorbitant amount of time wondering why I love this show so much. Or even why its my favorite show. And I think I finally have the answer.
I want to be Clark Kent. I don't mean in the aesthetic areas. Well, we may have similarities. Its not what keeps me watching. You see, in a weird sort of way Smallville has mirrored my life. I'd be embarrassed if I admitted the ways in which it did. Some are obvious, some not so much. If I told you, you'd look at my cheesiness with such disdain that my very insides would whittle themselves into nothingness. And none of us want that.
Even as I watch this last episode, its mirroring my life. And I'm getting chills because of it. Only Smallville would have Clark learning to say goodbye to his past even as I'm trying to say goodbye to it. I just love it. *Grins*
Im going to miss this show after its gone. While other shows that I love have ended (In some cases before I started watching it), none have ever been such a huge part of my life for such a long time. And now its almost over.
(GAH! He flew!)
Its a little weird watching the last few minutes of Smallville tick away. Come September, I'll probably be waiting for yet another season to start up, but it won't. Its nearly done. I can't help but have hundreds of episodes worth of memories flood back to me. Terror during the Dark Thursday episodes, joy during Season 1, pure frustration when they brought Lana back for the (What a horrible way to work Lex back in! Sorry, this is what I mean. *shrugs* I guess it works. For once it all fits. Thats good enough for me.) 40 billionth time.
(Holy Kryptonian Fashions! He's gonna wear the suit!)
And...thats it...its over. Smallville has ended. It ended well, not how I would have ended it. I don't think you can have a show for 10 years and then end it without any let downs. It sort of HAD to be an anti-climax. But it was good. I still have a huge grin on my face and a strange urge to watch Superman 1 and 2 tonight.
Dressed as Clark Kent, of course. I always will be.
-Hi_am The Clark
At an earlier time, I had witnessed commercials and previews for Smallville. And, honestly, it freaked me out. I thought it was scary and I wondered why anyone would watch a show like that.
Then my boredom and the Season 5 finale happened. Maybe it was the small child possessed by an evil alien spirit quite literally tearing guards to shreds, or maybe it was the idea of a show about Superman before he was Superman. Either way, one 12 year old boy was hooked. I devoted years of my life to both catching up on the previous five seasons and religiously following the rest of the series as it progressed.
To all who have watched any episode of this show, it has its problems. At times, its cheesy and lame. At other times, its plot is all over the place and seems to be allergic to logic. Its blunt. It appears to have skipped school the day they studied "subtlety." Also, it is always frustrating.
But its also good. And true. And if I'm being honest, its inspired me to run around pretending to destroy stuff, and run super fast and fly around the world on more than one occasion.
I've spent an exorbitant amount of time wondering why I love this show so much. Or even why its my favorite show. And I think I finally have the answer.
I want to be Clark Kent. I don't mean in the aesthetic areas. Well, we may have similarities. Its not what keeps me watching. You see, in a weird sort of way Smallville has mirrored my life. I'd be embarrassed if I admitted the ways in which it did. Some are obvious, some not so much. If I told you, you'd look at my cheesiness with such disdain that my very insides would whittle themselves into nothingness. And none of us want that.
Even as I watch this last episode, its mirroring my life. And I'm getting chills because of it. Only Smallville would have Clark learning to say goodbye to his past even as I'm trying to say goodbye to it. I just love it. *Grins*
Im going to miss this show after its gone. While other shows that I love have ended (In some cases before I started watching it), none have ever been such a huge part of my life for such a long time. And now its almost over.
(GAH! He flew!)
Its a little weird watching the last few minutes of Smallville tick away. Come September, I'll probably be waiting for yet another season to start up, but it won't. Its nearly done. I can't help but have hundreds of episodes worth of memories flood back to me. Terror during the Dark Thursday episodes, joy during Season 1, pure frustration when they brought Lana back for the (What a horrible way to work Lex back in! Sorry, this is what I mean. *shrugs* I guess it works. For once it all fits. Thats good enough for me.) 40 billionth time.
(Holy Kryptonian Fashions! He's gonna wear the suit!)
And...thats it...its over. Smallville has ended. It ended well, not how I would have ended it. I don't think you can have a show for 10 years and then end it without any let downs. It sort of HAD to be an anti-climax. But it was good. I still have a huge grin on my face and a strange urge to watch Superman 1 and 2 tonight.
Dressed as Clark Kent, of course. I always will be.
-Hi_am The Clark
Off To Switzerland With Fritz.
For reasons unknown to me, my most recent post has vanished from my blog. Poof! Its just gone. I don't know why, but I guess that's ok. It adds a bit more mystery to the whole thing, wouldn't you say?
I shan't let that stop me. I'll keep meandering on my own little purple path of nonsensicality. I'll admit I wish to leave all readers of this blog amused. I'm sorry if I've failed. In reality, I've been warring against the urge to mimic other people and stray from my style and shtick. Its tempting.
Maybe my style isn't terribly good or amusing or funny. But it is mine. And, the truth is, I find it to be enormously fun.
Let me take a break from serious subjects and delve into more silly ventures. *grins* If the very thought sends bone-chilling shivers down your spinal column, then you can leave. I won't be very offended. I promise. Its understandable, really. I may however have a funeral for your viewership. Complete with turquoise colored balloons. (What?! Its a mournful color. I'd even go so far as to say The Most Mournful Color. Just don't tell Henry.)
I promise to invite a flutist to this funeral to play a stirring rendition of "The Wheels On The Bus." I'll even make sure the flutist has a beard. Thats right, a bearded flutist. Just for you. Is that love or what?
Come to think of it, its such great love that you would never want to leave it. You should just stay. And read my blog posts. Then you'll enjoy yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you'll be in such a great mood that the trip to Switzerland you've always dreamed about won't seem quite so impossible. And you'll actually go. Maybe you'll even drag your cat, Fritz, along for the ride. You'll swim in a bubbling river. And marry a coffee shop owner who is bald and answers to several variations of "John." Just remember to ignore the scar over his left earlobe. And NEVER mention Henry to him, or him to Henry. Things would get ugly, and I'm not just refering to John's scar.
Anyway, the point is. My art WILL change your life. And cabinets are awesome. Thats my other point.
What was that? You didn't remember me mentioning cabinets, you say? I'm not making any sense, you say? Well, clearly you didn't read the sub-text. I alluded to cabinets at least 4 and a half times. Sheesh. People these days...
-Hi_am the Nate
I shan't let that stop me. I'll keep meandering on my own little purple path of nonsensicality. I'll admit I wish to leave all readers of this blog amused. I'm sorry if I've failed. In reality, I've been warring against the urge to mimic other people and stray from my style and shtick. Its tempting.
Maybe my style isn't terribly good or amusing or funny. But it is mine. And, the truth is, I find it to be enormously fun.
Let me take a break from serious subjects and delve into more silly ventures. *grins* If the very thought sends bone-chilling shivers down your spinal column, then you can leave. I won't be very offended. I promise. Its understandable, really. I may however have a funeral for your viewership. Complete with turquoise colored balloons. (What?! Its a mournful color. I'd even go so far as to say The Most Mournful Color. Just don't tell Henry.)
I promise to invite a flutist to this funeral to play a stirring rendition of "The Wheels On The Bus." I'll even make sure the flutist has a beard. Thats right, a bearded flutist. Just for you. Is that love or what?
Come to think of it, its such great love that you would never want to leave it. You should just stay. And read my blog posts. Then you'll enjoy yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you'll be in such a great mood that the trip to Switzerland you've always dreamed about won't seem quite so impossible. And you'll actually go. Maybe you'll even drag your cat, Fritz, along for the ride. You'll swim in a bubbling river. And marry a coffee shop owner who is bald and answers to several variations of "John." Just remember to ignore the scar over his left earlobe. And NEVER mention Henry to him, or him to Henry. Things would get ugly, and I'm not just refering to John's scar.
Anyway, the point is. My art WILL change your life. And cabinets are awesome. Thats my other point.
What was that? You didn't remember me mentioning cabinets, you say? I'm not making any sense, you say? Well, clearly you didn't read the sub-text. I alluded to cabinets at least 4 and a half times. Sheesh. People these days...
-Hi_am the Nate
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Dear Jeeves, Jeeves, Jeeves, Jeeves, and Jeeves.
"If you've got it all figured out, then what is there to shout about?"
*sighs*
I love it when one line from one song has such a diverse meaning. That's right, I can sing that line to five different people and it will have a different meaning for each of those people.
Dear Jeeves,
I suppose the obvious question begs to be answered. Why am I doing this if explaining it is too personal? I am not quite sure. It does seem silly, doesn't it? I guess it helps me somehow. Its therapeutic in a weird sort of way. Its my way of sending all the messages that I've always wanted to.
Granted, those messages will probably never be received due to several inhibiting factors. But that's ok too. I don't really mind. The point isn't for them to know what I'm saying, merely for me to say it.
The beauty of that line is that within the song, specific memories, and what I picture in my head whilst listening to it, there is so much there. Tiny nuances make the meaning change entirely. And the best part is, I'm the only person who would understand the references I made by posting that lyric. I think that's why I like it so much. Its like an inside joke between Me, Myself and I.
Part of me wants nothing more than to explain myself. The other part of me is terrified at the thought. In fact, I'd prefer it if none of these Jeeves ever discovered their Jeevesness. They'd start asking questions, listen to the song, maybe get the wrong idea. Or even worse, they might get the right one.
I guess they'll never know. But I will. And I do. Its a question I'd love answered but I know I couldn't bear it if it were. I'd rather not know what they'd think if I told them what my thoughts behind it were.
Sincerely,
Hi_am J
P.S. 1313131311
*sighs*
I love it when one line from one song has such a diverse meaning. That's right, I can sing that line to five different people and it will have a different meaning for each of those people.
Dear Jeeves,
You get this, don't you?
Sincerely,
Me
Dear Jeeves,
Do you wish the same thing I do? I sure hope so. The memory I have regarding you is probably the same one you'd have. I had this thought the very first time I heard this song.
Sincerely,
Me
Dear Jeeves,
Its not as easy as you thought, is it?
Sincerely,
Me
Dear Jeeves,
I'll always be listening anyway. I promise.
Sincerely,
Me
Dear Jeeves,
I guess we meant it. That one time.
Sincerely,
Me
I suppose the obvious question begs to be answered. Why am I doing this if explaining it is too personal? I am not quite sure. It does seem silly, doesn't it? I guess it helps me somehow. Its therapeutic in a weird sort of way. Its my way of sending all the messages that I've always wanted to.
Granted, those messages will probably never be received due to several inhibiting factors. But that's ok too. I don't really mind. The point isn't for them to know what I'm saying, merely for me to say it.
The beauty of that line is that within the song, specific memories, and what I picture in my head whilst listening to it, there is so much there. Tiny nuances make the meaning change entirely. And the best part is, I'm the only person who would understand the references I made by posting that lyric. I think that's why I like it so much. Its like an inside joke between Me, Myself and I.
Part of me wants nothing more than to explain myself. The other part of me is terrified at the thought. In fact, I'd prefer it if none of these Jeeves ever discovered their Jeevesness. They'd start asking questions, listen to the song, maybe get the wrong idea. Or even worse, they might get the right one.
I guess they'll never know. But I will. And I do. Its a question I'd love answered but I know I couldn't bear it if it were. I'd rather not know what they'd think if I told them what my thoughts behind it were.
Sincerely,
Hi_am J
P.S. 1313131311
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
So this is what Im reduced to?
How you know you are in trouble: The show you're watching online plays pregnancy test ads for the commercials.
I just don't know about me anymore. *Shakes head at self*
In other news, this blog post will end abru...
I just don't know about me anymore. *Shakes head at self*
In other news, this blog post will end abru...
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Maternally Pensive
Look, Mom! A blog post! All for you. Its your lucky day. Your fantabulous son has devoted his internetted soap box to you today. For it is the Day of The Mothers. It is a day for you.
I love you so very much Mom. Really, its probably all the sandwiches that did it. Oh and the Mac and Cheese. You make the World's Best Mac and Cheese. Its really not a contest. Seriously. I love food. But you knew that already. You've been feeding me for pretty much ever.
You are the bestest Mom in the world. Why, you ask? Well, if you hadn't joined the leagues of "mothers" I wouldn't exist. And, honestly, can you even imagine a world without me, without melting into a sobbing puddle of depressed mush? I can't either.
Or maybe its the fact that you manage to love a son like me, that makes you the bestest mother in the world. Either way, you are.
As much as I get on your nerves with my persistent "grumpies" as you so eloquently put it, you haven't yet murdered me. I proclaim that as a victory for you. In fact, you have the world record. You've refrained from killing me for 17 years so far. I'd appreciate it if that lasted a little bit longer.
You never stop doing things for me. Whether I ask or not. I may not always tell you (for which I am sorry) that I am thankful. But I am.
Its been a crazy year. I (appear to) have grown up a lot. Things are changing faster than I can take note. For the first time ever, autumn doesn't hold yet another school year for us to dive into. In a mere 7ish months, I'll be an adult. Scary, huh?
For as long as I can remember, you've understood me the most. I can only hope to be as great a parent as you are. Not that you're perfect. Far from it, actually. But neither am I. And yet, somehow we manage to love each other.
Its been a long time since my days as a Cubbie. Do you remember? The days when I would weep at the thought of being left somewhere without my Mommy? Or a few years later, when I'd do pretty much the same thing when sleeping over a friend's house. I seem to remember you being frustrated with me a lot growing up. For good reason, too. I was far from an angelic child. But I still wish I could go back to then. I think I'd appreciate it more.
So lets enjoy these last few years I have to be a pesky teenager living under your roof. Before we know it, this will all be over. You'll have been too good of a parent for your own good. I guess that's how its supposed to be. Its OK, though. You'll always have Kay and Kalli to pester. They're stuck with "Gamma"bothering them for many years to come. I hope I will be too.
I love you, Mom. Happy Day of The Mothers.
-Your Bothersome Son
P.S. This doesn't actually take the place of the card. And the card won't take the place of a gift. I actually just thought of one. I think you'll like it. And if you don't...well, then we have bigger problems to work out.
I love you so very much Mom. Really, its probably all the sandwiches that did it. Oh and the Mac and Cheese. You make the World's Best Mac and Cheese. Its really not a contest. Seriously. I love food. But you knew that already. You've been feeding me for pretty much ever.
You are the bestest Mom in the world. Why, you ask? Well, if you hadn't joined the leagues of "mothers" I wouldn't exist. And, honestly, can you even imagine a world without me, without melting into a sobbing puddle of depressed mush? I can't either.
Or maybe its the fact that you manage to love a son like me, that makes you the bestest mother in the world. Either way, you are.
As much as I get on your nerves with my persistent "grumpies" as you so eloquently put it, you haven't yet murdered me. I proclaim that as a victory for you. In fact, you have the world record. You've refrained from killing me for 17 years so far. I'd appreciate it if that lasted a little bit longer.
You never stop doing things for me. Whether I ask or not. I may not always tell you (for which I am sorry) that I am thankful. But I am.
Its been a crazy year. I (appear to) have grown up a lot. Things are changing faster than I can take note. For the first time ever, autumn doesn't hold yet another school year for us to dive into. In a mere 7ish months, I'll be an adult. Scary, huh?
For as long as I can remember, you've understood me the most. I can only hope to be as great a parent as you are. Not that you're perfect. Far from it, actually. But neither am I. And yet, somehow we manage to love each other.
Its been a long time since my days as a Cubbie. Do you remember? The days when I would weep at the thought of being left somewhere without my Mommy? Or a few years later, when I'd do pretty much the same thing when sleeping over a friend's house. I seem to remember you being frustrated with me a lot growing up. For good reason, too. I was far from an angelic child. But I still wish I could go back to then. I think I'd appreciate it more.
So lets enjoy these last few years I have to be a pesky teenager living under your roof. Before we know it, this will all be over. You'll have been too good of a parent for your own good. I guess that's how its supposed to be. Its OK, though. You'll always have Kay and Kalli to pester. They're stuck with "Gamma"bothering them for many years to come. I hope I will be too.
I love you, Mom. Happy Day of The Mothers.
-Your Bothersome Son
P.S. This doesn't actually take the place of the card. And the card won't take the place of a gift. I actually just thought of one. I think you'll like it. And if you don't...well, then we have bigger problems to work out.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Hey Honey
Yes, I know. Im a sap. Well, this is a song I wrote today. Thats misleading though. Its been bouncing around in my head for a week or so. Anyway, the girl to whom this song was written went to bed before I could finish it. I didn't have the patience to wait for tomorrow morning. So she'll see this for the first time on here. This whole post is really about her. Its only goal is to get her to smile and feel as loved as she is. If other people marvel at my mastery of the English language, then so be it. Yes, im cute. And Im aware of it.
Before I post the song, something comes first.
Here is the wicked sweet album cover I designed for this.
Hey Honey
Hey Honey
You should know
This by now
It can’t be all that hard
To figure me out
You should know
This by now
It can’t be all that hard
To figure me out
I love you to death
And a half
So much more
Than life itself
But being halfway
Across the galaxy
From you, left me
Speechless to say the least
(Oh, I was speechless when you left me)
And a half
So much more
Than life itself
But being halfway
Across the galaxy
From you, left me
Speechless to say the least
(Oh, I was speechless when you left me)
My Dear Meg, I am
Lonely and curled
Up in a ball
Wishing away the world
Wishing I was safe
And warm and all
Wrapped up in your arms
Lonely and curled
Up in a ball
Wishing away the world
Wishing I was safe
And warm and all
Wrapped up in your arms
But Im not, Honey
So these things which Im singing
To you
Across a million lonely light-years
Will just have to do
So these things which Im singing
To you
Across a million lonely light-years
Will just have to do
Did you read the fine print?
When you signed up for this?
I think not
You sure missed out on a lot
All because of one misplaced thought
When you signed up for this?
I think not
You sure missed out on a lot
All because of one misplaced thought
Oh Honey
There’s so much more than me
Within your reach
Your eyes
They harmonize
With the deep sighs
Of a late August night
Thoughts of your freckles
Tend to sparkle
Always inside my mind
And when your hair flows
And dances in the sunlight
I try to catch my breath
But can’t hold on
Cause, Honey, you’re all that I want
There’s so much more than me
Within your reach
Your eyes
They harmonize
With the deep sighs
Of a late August night
Thoughts of your freckles
Tend to sparkle
Always inside my mind
And when your hair flows
And dances in the sunlight
I try to catch my breath
But can’t hold on
Cause, Honey, you’re all that I want
It was due to
Some unseen twist of fate
That led me straight
Into the arms
Of the only girl
Who could see me
As the most worthy guy in the world
And Honey,
For you I’ll forever be
The only guy
Worth your time to need
Some unseen twist of fate
That led me straight
Into the arms
Of the only girl
Who could see me
As the most worthy guy in the world
And Honey,
For you I’ll forever be
The only guy
Worth your time to need
This is painful
And I am aware
I’d give most anything
To have you here not there
To hear you sing
This along with me
But we’re far too far away
And the miles don’t seem to care
And I am aware
I’d give most anything
To have you here not there
To hear you sing
This along with me
But we’re far too far away
And the miles don’t seem to care
Honey, don’t you dare forget
The joy and wonder
And Heaven that lies ahead
Centuries from now
We’ll be sitting down
Looking back on this
And trying to capture
The only moment
We’ll have to relive
The joy and wonder
And Heaven that lies ahead
Centuries from now
We’ll be sitting down
Looking back on this
And trying to capture
The only moment
We’ll have to relive
Honey, what will we do?
With the too few moments
I’ll have with you?
*Whispers* So, Meg? What do you think? I think this is one of my better songs. Not to sound arrogant. :)
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
A Speedy Post.
Let me get straight to the point. I have a definition to share. There seems to be some confusion as to what exactly is meant when we say we like someone, or are in love with someone, or love them.
In my mind, they are three different things. Not unrelated. But still different.
Let me clear it all up. As simply as I can.
Liking someone is when you have that heart-pounding, Wow-They're-Amazing feeling. You love being around them, and you're really nervous when you are.
Being in love with someone is having that same heart-pounding, liking feeling when you're in their presence. And feeling horrible and depressed when you aren't.
Loving someone is staying with them even when the mushy liking feeling is gone, and the urge to get away from them seems too great.
There. Thats it. Just some of my thoughts. I'll be the first to confess I know very little, but after spending the better part of a year in the latter two stages with a certain girl named Meg. I think I understand what love is. Succeeding in it is a different matter entirely.
In my mind, they are three different things. Not unrelated. But still different.
Let me clear it all up. As simply as I can.
Liking someone is when you have that heart-pounding, Wow-They're-Amazing feeling. You love being around them, and you're really nervous when you are.
Being in love with someone is having that same heart-pounding, liking feeling when you're in their presence. And feeling horrible and depressed when you aren't.
Loving someone is staying with them even when the mushy liking feeling is gone, and the urge to get away from them seems too great.
There. Thats it. Just some of my thoughts. I'll be the first to confess I know very little, but after spending the better part of a year in the latter two stages with a certain girl named Meg. I think I understand what love is. Succeeding in it is a different matter entirely.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Clive and Osama
I have to admit. Every bone in my body is screaming to run away from this sort of a subject. Its controversial. Its current. And its anything but happy. But I feel that what I have to say, needs to be said. Whether it is agreed with or not. I owe myself and those reading that much. So let me throw silliness and optimism out the window for one post. Sometimes wake up calls are necessary. Even when no one's listening.
This isn't my usual style. But America is begging for a well-placed slap upside the head. And I intend to give it.
You may have heard that one of America's greatest enemies was killed recently. If this is the first you've heard, do yourself a favor and crawl out from under that rock. For all those newly-rock-less-people, here are a few things you should know. 1. Start loathing Justin Bieber. 2. Get a Facebook account. and 3. Osama bin Laden is dead.
First and foremost, don't misunderstand me. He was an evil, despicable human being. If anyone deserved death, it was him. But that's not why I'm writing. That's not what needs attention.
Yes, justice was served. The world is a better place because of his death, but its not a good one. The fact that the world is safer and he paid for the murder of countless innocent victims, is something to be celebrated. Loss of life, no matter how evil and horrible the owner of that life was, is not.
Frankly, I'm sickened by it. I thought we were better than this. Celebrating in the streets? Really? Change the clothing, the language, and the skin color and you pretty much have a picture of how our very enemies celebrated our losses nearly 10 years ago. Is that what we are? Sure, you may say that we were justified in killing him after all he did. Well, terrorists (as misled as they might be) believe they are justified too. So what exactly is the difference?
I'm having a hard time seeing one.
Since when are death and war ever good things? The Bible is clear that they are necessary. But it's also clear that they aren't to be enjoyed. They can make the world a better place, but war and death never make it a good one.
Ezekiel 33:11a
"Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live..."
I like the way C.S Lewis put it (having witnessed The Holocaust during his lifetime, he understood this concept quite well.)
"Consequently, Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty or treachery.... But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things within ourselves: being sorry that the man should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere, he can be cured and made human again."
Have we even bothered to try that? Could we? I think so. But it takes the Love of God and only that in our hearts to accomplish such a feat. I can't begin to imagine how born-again family members of the victims of 9/11 must be feeling tonight. I'm not in their shoes. And I pray I never will be.
And so, tonight I won't be celebrating the death of yet another person. I'll be mourning and praying for all the lives lost nearly a decade ago and still being lost today. Yes, every single one. Terrorists weren't the victors on 9/11, and we aren't today. Satan is the only victor through all this. I can only imagine that he was just as pleased to welcome bin Laden into the pits of Hell, as he was the unsaved innocent victims of the attacks and resulting wars.
As dark and hopeless as the world is, we have two things to remember. 1. It is this way because of us. We sin. We made it the twisted place that it is. And we would be (without the Grace of God) heading for the exact same punishment as terrorists. We're all the same in that sense. And 2. God has a plan to change this twisted world. He's promised He will. And He's given us a way to join Him in that world.
That's all, really. I can't think of a better way to end this than the same way C.S. Lewis did under similar circumstances decades ago.
"Remember, we Christians think man lives forever. Therefore, what really matters is those little marks or twists on the central, inside part of the soul which are going to turn it, in the long run, into a heavenly or hellish creature. We may kill if necessary but we must not hate and enjoy hating. We may punish if necessary, but we must not enjoy it. In other words something inside us, the feeling of resentment, the feeling that wants to get one's own back, must simply be killed." - C.S. Lewis
This isn't my usual style. But America is begging for a well-placed slap upside the head. And I intend to give it.
You may have heard that one of America's greatest enemies was killed recently. If this is the first you've heard, do yourself a favor and crawl out from under that rock. For all those newly-rock-less-people, here are a few things you should know. 1. Start loathing Justin Bieber. 2. Get a Facebook account. and 3. Osama bin Laden is dead.
First and foremost, don't misunderstand me. He was an evil, despicable human being. If anyone deserved death, it was him. But that's not why I'm writing. That's not what needs attention.
Yes, justice was served. The world is a better place because of his death, but its not a good one. The fact that the world is safer and he paid for the murder of countless innocent victims, is something to be celebrated. Loss of life, no matter how evil and horrible the owner of that life was, is not.
Frankly, I'm sickened by it. I thought we were better than this. Celebrating in the streets? Really? Change the clothing, the language, and the skin color and you pretty much have a picture of how our very enemies celebrated our losses nearly 10 years ago. Is that what we are? Sure, you may say that we were justified in killing him after all he did. Well, terrorists (as misled as they might be) believe they are justified too. So what exactly is the difference?
I'm having a hard time seeing one.
Since when are death and war ever good things? The Bible is clear that they are necessary. But it's also clear that they aren't to be enjoyed. They can make the world a better place, but war and death never make it a good one.
Ezekiel 33:11a
"Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live..."
I like the way C.S Lewis put it (having witnessed The Holocaust during his lifetime, he understood this concept quite well.)
"Consequently, Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty or treachery.... But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things within ourselves: being sorry that the man should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere, he can be cured and made human again."
Have we even bothered to try that? Could we? I think so. But it takes the Love of God and only that in our hearts to accomplish such a feat. I can't begin to imagine how born-again family members of the victims of 9/11 must be feeling tonight. I'm not in their shoes. And I pray I never will be.
And so, tonight I won't be celebrating the death of yet another person. I'll be mourning and praying for all the lives lost nearly a decade ago and still being lost today. Yes, every single one. Terrorists weren't the victors on 9/11, and we aren't today. Satan is the only victor through all this. I can only imagine that he was just as pleased to welcome bin Laden into the pits of Hell, as he was the unsaved innocent victims of the attacks and resulting wars.
As dark and hopeless as the world is, we have two things to remember. 1. It is this way because of us. We sin. We made it the twisted place that it is. And we would be (without the Grace of God) heading for the exact same punishment as terrorists. We're all the same in that sense. And 2. God has a plan to change this twisted world. He's promised He will. And He's given us a way to join Him in that world.
That's all, really. I can't think of a better way to end this than the same way C.S. Lewis did under similar circumstances decades ago.
"Remember, we Christians think man lives forever. Therefore, what really matters is those little marks or twists on the central, inside part of the soul which are going to turn it, in the long run, into a heavenly or hellish creature. We may kill if necessary but we must not hate and enjoy hating. We may punish if necessary, but we must not enjoy it. In other words something inside us, the feeling of resentment, the feeling that wants to get one's own back, must simply be killed." - C.S. Lewis
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