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.
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