With confidence I now draw nigh

Imperfect Game

2010-06-03T17:23:00.000-07:00

There are 20 perfect games in the history of baseball. On Wednesday night, June 2nd, 2010, the 21st perfect game nearly came into existence less than a week after the 20th perfect game by Roy Halladay and within a month of the predecessing 19th by Dallas Braden. In any perfect game it's all or nothing. For my non baseball readers, that's 27 batters up (3 per inning x 9 innings of regular play) and 27 down. No walks, hits or batter's hit by a pitch. Constituting 9 frames of...that's right, perfection. With 8 and 2/3 of an inning under his belt, Armando Galarraga pitched to his, would be, last batter who promptly produced a ground ball right into first baseman Miguel Cabrera who quickly flipped it over from his position, between first and second, to Galarraga who had run to cover first. The play was text book and was executed with the precision that comes from years of experience. The batter was out by a long shot. However, first base umpire, Jim Joyce had called him 'safe'. No one could believe it. the faces of every player were absent of emotion, their thoughts off somewhere asking if their dream night had been turned into a nightmare. The call would quickly be disputed but even after Galarraga's manager had fired off his mouth at Joyce, the play remained as called. Galarraga's perfect evening had been robbed from him.

After the game, Joyce had the opportunity to view his call again and as was already partially confirmed in his mind, his call had in fact been wrong. Joyce left the park without showering, only offering an apology to Galarraga for his poor call before he departed. For those who do not understand, umpires are tough by nature, they have to be, they make poor calls all the time and they have to stick by their own mistakes just as they stand by their good calls. For every single call an umpire makes during a game there is someone who will be benefited and someone for whom the call will be detrimental.

There are few mistakes in the history of baseball as dismal as this one.

Joyce deserved to be booed for his call, he deserved to be hated by Detroit, a city starved for a winner. Galarraga would be perfectly entitled to be disgusted with the man for taking away what would have probably been the crown jewel of his career. But when Joyce arrived at the field on Thursday for the next game, he received laud. He was given encouragement. He was handed forgiveness. Even while some fans still hurting from the previous evening's erroneous giving booed and taunted. The man to whom the offense had been done walked with grace and integrity out to home plate to hand Joyce the lineup card and shake his hand. In the moment, Joyce, a stalwart of manliness had succumb to the preciousness of a tender mercy. His rugged, bulky face completed by a motorhead mustache produced a pair of tears that he quickly dispatched putting his thumb and index finger to his face and then wiping them carelessly on his black uniform. The mantra of Jimmy Dugen; "There's no crying in Baseball!" seemed distant in that honest moment. Noticing with care and acting with a seemingly lost integrity among sports players in this modern era, Galaragga patted Joyce on the back to which Joyce returned his gesture with an opposite handed pat on the shoulder.

While I'm sure both Galarraga and Joyce would prefer to have had yesterday's game end differently, there is something here far greater than perfection. Had yesterday's game ended as it was supposed to, both Joyce and Galaragga would have walked off the field, thankful but indifferent to each other. Last night, they left limping. Today, they demonstrated a beauty that in my opinion far exceeds the temporary glamor of perfection. the obtrusiveness of a botched call may have seemed devastating in the temporal but will go down in history as how brilliantly a man who played and a man who officiated the great game of baseball stood out among men.

Thanks for reading

Untitled

2010-05-28T07:46:00.000-07:00

Will we all one day lift our voice in a chorus and sing away an era of pain, misfortune, hurt and disappointment as we shuffle together into a glorious new beginning? Will our tears of suffering that once streamed down our cheeks be renewed with tears of joy? Drunk with laughter, will every breath we manage to breathe disrobe a layer of memory tainted by imperfection? Will the violent process of refinement come to fruition so that we shine so bright? And will we even posses the fortitude to stand on that day or will we be so overcome by the multitudes of the voices straining, rejecting the filth of this world, throwing off the bonds of their addictions and and the snares of their minds. Will everything wrong be undone and unmade into unknowable goodness?

I hope it is so.

You're A Good Man Charlie Brown?

2009-12-27T17:55:00.000-08:00

This Christmas season has been different. In the past I have easily been caught up in the emotion of the holiday. The concept of Emmanuel has always plucked at my heart strings. This year however, I have found myself completely void of that typical Christmas feeling. This year, Christmas was not about Jesus or Peace on earth, it wasn't about Presents or about spreading love. It was quiet. It came and went and now it's over. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I feel that there is a loss that comes with not recognizing the importance of Christmas. But, then again, it is too often marred by painful reminders of my disappointment with God, with my life and with people.
I wish for the all-to-familiar Christmas miracle. I want to be able to suddenly get it and be content with God's plan and purpose for my life. I hope for it every year, and every year, in turn, marches on with me feeling a little more disillusioned. And before you think I'm simply living for the height of the moment, rest assured, this is a constant struggle merely amplified by the "reason for the season".

To my chagrin, I feel I am becoming less respondent to the stimuli of my faith. What is more unfortunate is that I cling to the moral/spiritual code and accepted practice of my community because it is what I am accustomed to and also because it's basis would not allow me to put it away for sake of my dearest friends comforts.

I feel as though to declare this is to wear the black mark in my circle but more especially within my dating pursuits. To struggle and wrestle to the point of enmity with my faith (while on a polite christian social level is acceptable) it is of another matter on a deep personal level. Who wants to get close to someone who openly wrestles with God? This is obviously a familiar tune and I do digress, but my point is that I cannot lie about the state of my relationship with God. I cannot pretend that things are okay when I question the validity and purpose of worshiping God.

So, as a new year draws nigh. I hope God becomes real to me. Because I am tired. And with the advent of no more cussing (new years resolution #1,and yes, one of the clauses stipulates that usage of the Lord's name applied as exclamatory or with the addition of a cuss-word qualifies as a "cuss") I am likely to be more frustrated without an appropriate or(inappropriate) way to blow off steam.

Thanks for reading

Cliff Lee

2009-12-18T06:57:00.000-08:00

Why would we keep Cliff Lee in the dark?

This is the question that I've considered for the past 48 hours. What did we gain by not letting him know that we (the Philles) were trading him? The reason we traded Lee was to get prospects back after the blockbuster move with Halladay but, at what cost? After all, we sent more of our own prospects to Seattle with Lee? This whole deal seems dirty to me. Last summer our prospects were virtually untouchable and now it's practically a fire sale! So, we're supposed to believe that Ruben Amaro, Jr. made a decision to move Lee based on here say and conjecture? Bologna! I've never been a big ball club GM, but I can imagine that when you make a BIG decision you try to gather the facts and make an informed decision. All things considered (offense, bullpen, starters) it seems foolish to let one ace go when you could have had two. Maybe Hamels will come back and blow us away this season. I hope he does. But we're still putting all our money on Halladay to get the job done at this point.

At the end of all of this, we've left our world series ace out in the cold. I would like to think that he still love's this city, this club and the fans (I was one of the 46,000+ people chanting "Let's go Lee" during the first game of the NLDS). I would like to think that next year he'd consider our club and playing for us again. However, my hopes are dashed on the reality that Ruben Amaro, Jr. and the organization have created. There are a lot of reason's Ruben deserves kudos. This is not one of those. Cliff, I am sorry it ended this way. You're a stand up guy, a marvelous pitcher and a privilege to watch.

Seth

There's More Than One Way to Check for A Pulse

2009-11-06T10:46:00.000-08:00

Maybe you can identify a time where you were in the kitchen and cutting so vigorously with a knife that you departed from known safe (if such a thing can be said about cutting) methods of choppery and have been willing to risk limb for the sake of uncleaving meat from bone. And perhaps, as fate would have it, you managed to cut your own flesh. A cutting accident typically leaves a slice of skin that you can't help but fondle. It's part of your body, still connected, but dead and void of sensation. Yet, if you're like me, you fixate on that rogue piece of flesh now disavowed to your body. You can't seem to subdue the desire to play with it, though it might cause discomfort. The subtlety of the minor laceration is that it reawakens you to the world and your own humanity. Likewise, you may chose to listen to Beethoven's crescendo during the 9th symphony; As the strings whisper in anticipation of the deluge soon to come and you only have seconds to recognize the melody before you're fully in the middle of it. From the utter-perfection of the tympani's, the race of the strings and the melodic dissonance of the french horn to the choral mastery of the college of vocalists. Few things can cause one to instantaneously begin crying, if they are not already adept, save this piece of music.

You see, that emotion that reminds us we're human is a mingling of joy and sorrow. I suppose the greatest problem in reconciling these ideas is first accepting that our human interpretation of Joy is wrong. What if Joy, was more a state of recognition than a state of being. Joy is either hearing/seeing/doing something that is unmistakeably RIGHT and the forgone conclusion that we live in a perpetual state of brokenness. We weep because we catch that glimpse of perfection and cherish it so much while we continue to trudge. But, just because it is fleeting, does not render it meaningless. Also, when we stare at our body's frailty and realize in the moment of physical pain that our bodies are on a road to impending ruin we feel sorrow for what should be and what we cannot avoid and what we some day most resolve to; death. I believe that in that moment you either say, "I am made to be eternal" or you say "this is the natural order of things". A third and, possibly, more holistic approach is to say "shit, I've cut myself" However, you may want to keep that dialogue internal if for no other reason than looking foolish.

Maybe I'm over-complicating life here but, I feel like life is turmoil marked in the everpassing moment by road signs of rightness. They don't exist to satisfy you, they exist to remind you of a destination.

thanks for reading,
seth

More frustrated Pilgrimage

2009-09-11T10:09:00.000-07:00

A question I have wrestled with lately, and have given up on because I've heard no suitable explanation is; Why God is worthy of praise? You can tell me he did X,Y,Z but the simple fact is that it doesn't strike me like it strikes other people. I know I am flawed, I know I need to be saved, for those who know me on any level, this may come as no surprise. But why do I not feel inclined to worship? The concept of Christ's Holiness, sacrifice, etc. Are not hard for me to understand. Having these things be true to my "heart" is where the schism lies. My father has often implored me to read the word, that it speaks to you. When? How? I have never experienced this... Is this wishful thinking?

At some point, your reason and your spirituality go different ways. All sorts of Apologetics use reason in their argument, but typically from a pre-suppositional point of view (which makes their argument biased from the get-go).

This has been my frustration lately. Where, truth, reason and spirituality dwell in unity. Is this really possible? Will I wait on God in vain, eternally, hoping to "get it"?

(Please, no advice.)

Metamorphosis

2009-07-16T07:11:00.000-07:00

I feel a transformation happening in me. It's not a good one, and I want to stop it but I feel powerless. Once I was a wonderful friend to people, was more self sacrificial and kind. Now, I feel tortured and unable to look beyond my own suffering (which, let's admit, pales in comparison to that of others I know). I loathe myself for feeling this way, for being content to come home and be alone, but these days I am so tired. I feel incapable of handling my own life and thus my hopes of figuring out what I want to do with me life, being a husband/father or just doing something extraordinary have withered... Dear readers, I am sorry my soul sounds so downcast and my words offer no encouragement. I am jealous for your joy, have you it.

Among Other Things

2009-06-18T11:49:00.000-07:00

I'm growing tired waiting on God's promises, more so on the days that he does not feel real. In fact, there are days that I feel like I get to just sit and watch everyone around me experience joy while I sit in shit. I'm not saying that I am without good things in my life nor am I saying that they do not suffice, but, it's like that car commercial where the guy asks little girl #1 if she wants a pony and then when she says yes, gives her a plastic pony. Then asks little girl #2 the same question and gives her a real pony. Little girl #1 says, "you didn't tell me you had a REAL pony?" To which the guy then replies, "You didn't ask." It's like that. Some people would say this time of my life is meant to grow me, so far, the only thing that has successfully grown in me is bitterness, apathy and anger. Hardly fruits of the spirit. I feel like I'm on the cusp of patience with God. We haven't been talking much these days, God knows I've tried.

How can you be so cutoff from me, make me watch everyone around me full of life and joy while I sit in a shit hole and expect me to think you're great?

The Ever Passing Moment

2009-05-12T12:10:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, there are these moments. Pure, wonderful moments though they may be nothing but fabrication and fiction in your mind. Every now and then they transform into reality. But you dare not speak of them. They are so tender, their strength comes from their ambiguity. Even a whisper of forethought would shatter any hope of them transcending the plain of reality. All anyone can do who experiences this phenomena is to sit back and let it unravel. The comfort of it all, is that you can't screw it up. I'm trying to enjoy the roller-coaster.

Bah Humbug

2009-05-07T00:15:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you why I love the Dickinsonian Character of Ebenezer Scrooge. Scrooge is both cast as victim and villain. He is responsible for some of the aspects of his past and tormented by an inescapable cycle of an unkind familial origin. As the vignette of 'A Christmas Carol' opens it is clear that Scrooge is content with his cold, grim outlook on Christmas to a point of contention with many other light-hearted "friends", colleagues and family. But by means of some greater power's grace he is taken for a spiritual spin. His initial reaction, oddly is joy. From seeing his childhood, but every wonderful memory has a twist that leaves him begging to be taken from it. Scrooge moves from spirit to spirit through the night until he's faced with the Spirit of Christmas future, which spells disaster for our protaganist. The climax of the story finds Scrooge pleading with the spirit and claiming to hold Christmas dear in his heart everyday from henceforth. But isn't the message much deeper than simply Christmas? Scrooge is helpless to change nor does he want to unless he is made to truley understand his depravity.

Shouldn't we all be so lucky? I love you Ebenezar.

2009-04-24T08:23:00.000-07:00

I did the layout for this journal cover. I'm mostly happy with it.

Christos san viet!

2009-04-12T01:05:00.000-07:00

Love's redeeming work is done, come and welcome sinner, come!

Del-ish

2009-03-17T11:20:00.001-07:00

Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last.

Other refuge have I none, hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, ah! leave me not alone, still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed, all my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenseless head with the shadow of Thy wing.

Wilt Thou not regard my call? Wilt Thou not accept my prayer?
Lo! I sink, I faint, I fall—Lo! on Thee I cast my care;
Reach me out Thy gracious hand! While I of Thy strength receive,
Hoping against hope I stand, dying, and behold, I live.

Thou, O Christ, art all I want, more than all in Thee I find;
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is Thy Name, I am all unrighteousness;
False and full of sin I am; Thou art full of truth and grace.

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, grace to cover all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound; make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art, freely let me take of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart; rise to all eternity.

Lent

2009-03-17T10:11:00.000-07:00

I gave up secular music for lent this year. I tried giving up food. But this proved to be painful and counterproductive to the entire purpose of lent. My mornings are typically composed of rolling out of Bed, putting on clothing and running out the door. Typically, what prepares me for the day ahead, is not thinking about it. My escape is music. for 30 minutes every weekday, I get to be in my own little world and listen to music. For lent, I intentionally have replaced this with the worship music of RUF Christ Community Church in Nashville (Indelible Grace). The experience thus far has been sanctifying. A few weeks ago, I led my home group as we discussed how we explore biblical study. Examine, Interpret and meditate. All three are of equal importance, but with out meditation, how can the bible be anything more than stories, laws and guidelines? I have always struggled with Biblical meditation and this struggle seems to corelate with my view of christianity as more an intellectual belief and less about spiritual transcendance.
Listening to this rich, intense worship music everyday has become meditation for me. These old hymns reveal to my soul the truth of who Christ is, to such a wonderful point as to occasionally elicit an emotional response from me, and reveal more truths about the Character of God.
One thing I have learned is how rich and free Christ's love is, it's so far removed from our perverse concept of love that you might find it closer related to torture. I'll explain; we do things based on emotional responses to situations, environments, etc. ex. I make my mother cry, I apologize and hug her as my emotional response to her distress, to pacify and patch things up. Christ's response is not based on emotion, although he was a man of emotion (man of sorrow, etc). Christ's response to our distress speaks to our eternal soul and not our tattered bodies (grief, anger, anxiety all being products of a broken world), are constantly activated by the tumolt of life. The purpose of Christ's love is not to pacify, but to grow us, to humble us, to free us.

Alter Ego

2009-02-24T09:55:00.000-08:00

I know that the Gospel is supposed to excite me, how could it not? Lately, I just find that I don't care. I'm not excited to share the Gospel with people. And when I hear stories of God intervening in people's lives I scoff. I was telling my room mate last night, I've come to this point where I look at the community of believers I belong to and think how; Some days I feel like Jesus is real, and his work and kingdom are real. The other days, I'm nearly convinced that we're a body of delusional people striving to convince each other that God is not a lie. Incidentally, in talking with a co-worker about robotics, I came to understand that this acceptance of a dual reality is something only the complexity of the human mind can understand and somehow, NOT destroy itself. Faith subversively feeds our alternate views while we remain grounded in reality, so I guess we're at least not crazy. That explained, I wish I was more excited about who God is and what he does in my life and the lives of my friends.

Gnashville

2009-02-16T09:53:00.000-08:00

I remember when I used to feel LOVED by everyone, I was a prince in my community, the guy you wanted to know and Mr. Social Scene. The last two and a half years have been a different story. I almost feel like a stranger amongst my peers, have acquired some bitterness for the loss of my old persona and generally feel lonely, at times unloved. And, I start to believe that I'm not worth loving. The dichotomy of Christianity is that we ultimately failed to love God, but God ultimately succeeded to love us, and therefore have value. My selfishness, arrogance, pride and ESPECIALLY laziness are burdens that I continually try to lay down, only to pick them back up. Think of it like a catastrophic oil spill were the local marine life are covered by this awful, adhering and lethal chemical. They are cleansed, only to return to their habitat and be covered again. This repetition, while it sustains me, feels so redundant and pointless. So inescapable.
I think of this stage in life as process in humility. Bringing me down, while I continue to fight it. Who wants this? Humility has this strange feeling to me, I feel as though God does not care about me. You would think that God reorienting my universe to his will would give me an allowance to have my own gravity, feel my own worth. No. This is simply, as I discover it, not the case. Don't be fooled by my blog. These realizations do not make me happy or content. They are not some deep existential Nirvana I have attained. They're simply observations of my helpless estate. Finitum non capax infiniti.

Burn

2009-02-04T19:51:00.000-08:00

So,
There is this sense, this roaming desire to have a meaningful, mutually beneficial relationship. But I wonder, if the rate of attempt is fairly often, does that mean it's tainted? My last attempt to woo found me to be the only plane shot down in a cold war. No real confessions, just actions that were unanswered, unwanted and unappreciated. I hope that doesn't sound bitter, I assure you I'm not. I'm actually thankful for the experience, it showed me that I had a living, breathing heart, with every ability to uniquely care for and appreciate someone else more than myself. I did not think THAT part of me was still alive, or had existed. But, I rest assured knowing that it is indeed there.
So, I move forward to yet another prospect. I consider the sage wisdom of the band Cake;

I don't want to wonder, if this is a blunder.
I don't want to worry whether we're going to stay together
till we die.
I don't want to jump-in unless this music's thumpin'...
I want to love you madly. Yeah. I want to love you now!

Seriously though! My natural tendency is to weigh everything before I've decided if I'm going to use the English system or the metric system. I try and surmise the outcome of something before I know the first thing about it. I guess this is me trying to avoid disappointment. Previous attempts have proven hard, and I don't enjoy hard work.
I am attempting to live life more like an adventure. Especially one that God has planned for me. I hate surprises and I am begrudgingly patient, if at all. The two obviously go hand-in-hand. How perfect that in my present situation God has seen fit to give me the weights to build these muscles.
Who and what does God have planned for me? Hell, I wish I could look 5 years into the future, that'd be an AWESOME super power.
Something I'm learning about my heart. It seeks what it desires. To you, that seems rudimentary, but, I'm afraid I tend to overlook this basic conviction. Because it cannot have what it immediately desires, it gives birth to other sin, coveting, etc. What would it look like if my heart desired God's already free love and grace more than the affection of someone? I'd be more content, that's a start.

Is this what it means to become an adult. The uncomfortable revelation that you are really a shallow creature in need of deeper waters? Fun times...

Let Me Tell You A Story...

2009-01-19T20:54:00.000-08:00

Marriage is so beautiful. This weekend I got to witness one of my best friends marry. I have such a wonderful perspective of the hope of so many years finally coming to fruition in his life. So beautiful and incomprehensible that I was inexplicably moved to tears as I stood next to him and watched his bride come down the aisle. Filled with such a wonderful joy for him after standing by him through passed heart aches which, as he stood at the altar, I surmised to account for nothing in the grand finale of his bachelorhood.
I then had the privilege, and I do mean privilege, of riding him with my two other friends who have been married to each other for nearly 3 years. Watching them juggle the dance of fighting and showering affection on each other seemed to bring on some great revelation. Like, the truth that their marriage is not just some mere coincidence and chance of fortune but is indeed a God ordained union. There is no question that they, in thick and thin (for those of you who know of whom I am talking, I did not intend that pun) are meant for each other. Romance, while today is oft' perverted by wishful thinking and driven by selfish motivation, is made alive by deep friendship and strong commitment which these two friends inaudibly communicate.

What mysterious and wonderful joy?!

The Lord Giveth and Taketh Away, Blessed be the name of the Lord

2008-11-30T21:15:00.000-08:00

There are distinct moments where the plan of God is revealed and while it is clearly a joyful occasion, it can still be met with tears. A friend who is leaving for a long time to serve, a door that closes in your life, the dearly departed we are so thankful to have known. Here we are, serving in some capacity on earth while we pray to God that what we do mirrors his heart. Moments of clarity and moments of darkness. To me it seems like those moments of darkness oft' are prevalent while moments of clarity are few and far between. The Lord giveth and taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. This phrase keeps coming back to me. Through years of repetition and removed insincerity, by either the clergy or some old church mum it has become banal and meaningless. But, when one considers, what it is saying, it is much more an affront to our natural inclinations of self preservation and comfort. If we truley are sinners saved by Grace, what can God not ask of us? To what purpose can we not serve? And what do we have the right to withhold from God? The simplification of this mantra is the dissolving of a 4-letter word; "mine". Unfortuntely, as many have discovered before me and as I continue to resolve, the mind-set of "mine" is a life long battle to become "yours". This is again a theme of the Lords prayer, "...[Your] Kingdom come, [Your] Will be done..."
Sacrifice to the christian is a bitter-sweet thing. To extinguish my desire and to pray it reborn as God's desire is terrifying and rarely a tame occasion.

Je Suis Enchante avec vie!

2008-11-17T19:24:00.000-08:00

Yeah,
So I am not sure if my French is correct but I've been on a bit of a kick lately. But I do mean to say that I have been enchanted with life lately. It seems that I've come out of a very low period of life and am enjoying the gift of levity. Seriously, after going through a dark stretch it's such a blessing to just have this time of enjoying life as I figure out what to do next. And there is a lot to contemplate, but for now I am thankful for my job, my friends, my community. While learning not to place my identity in any of them.

I will say that I remain tempted to believe that I simply walked myself out of this rough period of life. Maybe it's simply my human nature to deny this gracious gift of rest and happiness from a God who is notorious for showering his children with blessings. But this could simply stem from a lack of understanding how a loving and perfect relationship works with the God of the universe and yet my personal God. All things considered, most of the complaining I do is self-centered anyway. Maybe, still, God and I need to switch role expectations; where I become the servant and he the master and perfecter of my life? In spite of my unbelief I will say I am thankful for this moment, however long it may be, where I feel content and happy. I am sure I will yet again rely on his grace to suffice.

On another note, if you want to see faith in the process of perfection being played out in someone's life, read Dan Macha's blog, Here. It has been an awesome source of encouragement.

Thanks for readin'

Emmylou Harris care of Matthew Perryman Jones

2008-10-19T10:47:00.000-07:00

O the dragons are gonna fly tonight
They're circling low and inside tonight
It's another round in the losing fight
Out along the great divide tonight

We are aging soldiers in an ancient war
Seeking out some half remembered shore
We drink our fill and still we thirst for more
Asking if there's no heaven what is this hunger for?

Our path is worn our feet are poorly shod
We lift up our prayer against the odds
And fear the silence is the voice of God

And we cry Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah

Sorrow is constant and the joys are brief
The seasons come and bring no sweet relief
Time is a brutal but a careless theif
Who takes our lot but leaves behind the grief

It is the heart that kills us in the end
Just one more old broken bone that cannot mend
As it was now and ever shall be amen

And we cry Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah

So there'll be no guiding light for you and me
We are not sailors lost out on the sea
We were always headed toward eternity
Hoping for a glimpse of Gaililee

Like falling stars from the universe we are hurled
Down through the long loneliness of the world
Until we behold the pain become the pearl

Cryin´ Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah

And we cry Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST17CNIXBJ0

The Distance

2008-08-27T16:07:00.000-07:00

I've come to this point where I feel like I can't say things like, "praise God" or "God is good". For me this, again, goes back to what I deem as a lack of tangibility. God may be good, some people I know who suffer greatly seem to think he is but, I continue to fail in finding out how good he is exactly. Let me put it to you this way; I don't want to feel like I am saying God is good just because other people tell me he's good. I want to say God is good because I genuinely understand that he is in fact good. But deeper still is the doubt in me that struggles to believe he is real. Perhaps, the root of this all is that since I have great doubt about whether God is real, I feel cheap speaking his praises. I read and I pray to seek to know that God is real and I feel that I only become more frustrated and separated. I cannot live a life of ignorant endorsement and yet clearly I need to be rescued from this valley of despair. There is no answer that anyone can give that seems to satiate this appetite and I wonder if God will leave me spiritually emaciated and starving as I continue to seek him. I don't even know if I'm doing it correctly. It's enough to make you scream and cuss yourself into oblivion.

More Relationship Troubles

2008-06-16T21:10:00.000-07:00

Seriously,
How can I be so attracted to a person and so afraid of being with them at the same time. How is it that I can enjoy them, but also, struggle in being with them? It's a paradox to me! Some people will say, "if the feeling's aren't there, then, that's it." Other's tell me, "you have to work at it." Where do I fall? It's mind numbing how this great chasm continues to rip at me. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, I know that it is growing me and maturing me to some degree, but, at such a cost! In the mean time, I keep waiting, waiting, waiting, hoping that suddenly something will change. I am so desperate to love this person and I can't bring myself to it. When you love someone, how do you tip-toe around the edge of idolatry? Maybe for me, that is the problem? Maybe this idol needs to be broken before I can have any real relationship? Ha, THAT sucks.

current mood: a shaggy, kaleidescope of futile fortitude.

"a trick is something a whore does for money...or candy."

2008-04-24T21:26:00.000-07:00

But seriously folks,
looking over my blogs, I imagine that there is a spiritual overload up in this piece. I write on it so much because it is simultaneously a relationship I am constantly coming to grips with and, to some degree, a solace. But I will try to blog about things other than the divine...For instance, I am being led to attend a "singles" seminar. My initial reaction is thus and, I should add, brutally honest; "I effing hate being single, why would I want to attend anything that talks about it." Amidst those attending is a person with whom I tried to escape the afformentioned doom, I say that to some degree with a hint of tongue-and-cheek. So the conclusion I have drawn is that either I am right, and this seminar is a load or I am wrong and I need to shut the hell up and listen to what others have to say. It's a battle man.

Crazy Little Thing Called Faith.

2008-04-11T12:20:00.000-07:00

Seriously though, and I have to write this quickly as I am on my way to work. Those who proclaim themselves to be disciples of Jesus. Do you ever feel like you are schitzo? Like you're talking to someone in your head but there is not really anyone there listening. That is my crisis. If Jesus is alive in me, that is, the Holy Spirit, than why is the communication so hard to comprehend. This is perhaps the hardest for me to grasp. If God is real, why can't we talk on a level where at least I understand there is dialog going on. When a prayer is answered, it fails vain and strange for me to publicly thank God for a resolution to my requests. I suppose I am waiting to see miracles or something incredible. This week, I read an interesting, albeit, heavy quote from The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky regarding one of the aforementioned brothers whose personality tends toward the spiritual. He referred to this brother as a realist saying that. "Miracles don't inspire faith, faith inspires miracles." though it has that old familiar 'ring' of the cliche, it is also saying that when we see our world through a different lens, it alters our perception. But, I can't change the way I see things. I suppose someone has to do it for me. It's a conundrum!!!

I had to write this for sonship

2008-02-13T09:30:00.000-08:00

Writing a testimony for me seems an odd task. More so because I don’t know what it looks like to have God change me. I have always expected to be aware of that change and I have always thought that it would be like night and day. For me, at the tender age of 23, my epiphany is that redemption is a life long process.

What I have come to learn of late has been through hurt and disappointment. It’s scary to think that silence and seeming distance are ways God communicates to us. I have been pushed to ask tough questions like, “why is it that when I run to Abba for relief from disappointment in life he so reluctant to appear to me in a manner that I would find comforting?” In church we sing songs about God’s great love for us and our thankful reciprocation, but I don’t feel that. Truth be told, I am a very hands on person. If I don’t experience something tangible, or at least what I deem to be tangible, as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t exist. This mentality defaults me as being poor in the spirit and things that are unseen. I look at my own suffering and hardship and that of the world at large. Then I think about God and his omnipotence and holiness and at the core of me, I ask myself some hard questions. Being analytical as I am, I start at the beginning, why would God put the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in the Garden and allow the devil to coarse Adam and Eve into original sin? Why does God allow Satan to knock righteous Job around? Why do you allow Genocide, Homicide, plague and hunger? The question “why” is simple, ancient and honest. I have come to the conclusion and personal opinion that if you are not, at least, asking these questions, you are not interested in knowing God.

In the last year of my life, God has seen fit to rattle the cage a bit. And although it seems like the deed of a great tormentor, I truly believe there is liberation involved. This is a freedom that steals me from the life of a lackadaisical people pleasing pseudo Christian and releases me to suffer and love as Christ did. That being said, it’s not always easy to reconcile what God is doing in my life and in the world, but I am being loosed from the bondage of complacency. Within the heart of hearts in every human, the question of “why” leads us to God. Many Christians, my self included do not like to ask that question because, to us, it seems to nullify God’s goodness. However, I am coming to discover God’s goodness is demonstrated in letting us pose such a question. He is inviting us to deeper relationship with him through seeking understanding.

Out of fear of death, out of sickness, sorrow, frustration and disappointment I come to God. My hope is not to convince my self or others of God’s good sovereignty but to experience it by him. My prayer is to give up on myself. I don’t know what that requires but part of me knows that I am worse than I think I am and God is bigger than I think he is. Blessed are the poor in Spirit for they will inherit the kingdom of heaven.

The gospel is far more accessible than people realize. It not only covers our sin, but, it also covers are doubts and frustrations, our skepticism and disobedience. I will never be perfect while I am alive. I will always be prone to disappointing my self and others. But I am coming to see that God looks at me and only sees Jesus.

Let us wonder grace and justice,

Join and point to mercy’s store.

When through grace in Christ our trust is,

Justice smiles and asks no more.

Like Aslan

2008-02-08T10:40:00.000-08:00

"Not safe, but good." The Lion can rip away my comfort and devour my security. I am lost in every aspect of life and maybe that is good. It's easy to gripe and complain about where I am at. I feel abandoned by my closest friends, lonely, without purpose or direction and life and it seems, is tearing at the seams. I'm discovering two things, I've been living a life of counterfeit grace where, as Brennan Manning puts it, "I pretend to believe I am a sinner." And that following Jesus means a lifetime of learning and repentance, which hardly appeal to my repertoire of hobbies or personal goals. I have come to understand that there are no rewards in life, only gifts. We don't receive a spouse for loving better or a new car for our good charity. Likewise, we don't lose a loved one for bad behavior or become impoverished because we didn't put enough money in the collection plate last week. That's not to say that I buy into the idea that tragedies are gifts from God. Misdeeds, great plunders and accidents are the result of a fallen world, not a loving God. Some people claim to experience the grace of God after bad things happen. For me, the experience of God's presence is more trans lucid than transparent. I have come to believe that I correspond to the first beatitude in Matthew, "Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." It's interesting that I am not promised a repaired spirit, I am promised the kingdom. Even the Kingdom is not a reward, but a gift. We work for rewards, but gifts require no labor, save that on the part of the giver.

The Body

2008-01-14T13:39:00.000-08:00

It's weird that Christ inhabits the church. Everyone hates the church, but Jesus loves her. We like to throw around the mantra that Jesus was a friend to Money lenders, whores and the scum of society and, while this is true, he also loves crazy conservatives who use the word of God to create their own agenda. I'm starting to see, and in some regard to my dismay, that their is no escaping the love of God. It has never been about what people do or do not, it is about what he already has done. There is no argument that Jesus was perfect, but the body of the church is not. And THIS is what Christ has designated to be his voice. Don't ask me why, I don't understand it. I feel like people's biggest complaint against Christianity is the, so called, Christians themselves. Everyone has been burned in some way by the church. Confidence has been injured by repeated reports of abuse, whether it be of a sexual nature or poor/incorrect biblical interpretations. For someone like me, this only proves that the church is full of sinful people, which is what the Bible has said all along. However, this conclusion proves the need for Christ's headship in the church body. Without Christ being the center, then we are basing our redemption on keeping up appearances and when our salvation is the result of the laws that we keep, we are doomed to futility and failure. I realize as I close that, many of my supposed readers out there may have drawn this conclusion a long time ago, but, (as I chuckle to myself) I am only starting to grasp this for myself now. What can I say, I'm a late bloomer.

Oh Lordi

2008-01-08T17:10:00.000-08:00

"Go then earthly fame and treasure. Come disaster, scorn and pain. In thy service, pain is pleasure. With thy favor, loss is gain. I have called thee Abba father. I have stayed my heart on thee. Storms may howl and clouds may gather. All must work for good to me."

~Henry Francis Lyte

What could make a sane man say something like this. I mean, we all like to make ourselves appear humbled. Andy Warhol says,somewhat paraphrased, that we are all walking advertisements of our better selves. And I believe that is at least true for me. But in my heart of hearts, I don't want things taken away from me, I want, to some degree, fame and treasure. In terms of fame, I want to be offered great jobs that are fulfilling and in terms of treasure, I want a marriage relationship. God has seen it fit to give me neither right now. I have called out to God and waited on him and sometimes it feels like God loves me if things are going well and his back is turned to me when the chips are down. But, Mr. Lyte, a wonderful Scottish poet as it turns out, plagued with sickness for much of his life could write such encouraging words, albeit, impractical for someone as spiritually immature as myself. I visited 10th pres. this past Sunday where Paul Tripp said, again to paraphrase, that the gospel covers even the hard questions. That we are justified by a smidgen (my word) of faith in Christ. That I have, although it's a spec. When I was young, I imagined that life would feel differently once I had grown up. That I would feel more adult and capable of handling things and then I actually grew up. I wonder if my relationship with God is not similar. I've caught myself thinking more than once, 'maybe in 10 years that when I have a wife, a well paying job, a dog and stuff, then I will be able to reciprocate a desire for God. And I've come to the conclusion that this makes me a certifiable Gold digger. God scratches my back and I wink and point and him in a Fonziesque fashion. Is that not disgusting? I hope that someday, after all of my kicking and screaming, I can echo the declaration of Mr. Lyte and resolve all that I have and am to the tender mercy of God.

More abstract frustration

2007-12-18T23:26:00.000-08:00

Drip Drip Drop
frustration like an I.V.
trickles down to nourish
a paraplegic, incapable of stopping it
in the bed of an empty hospital wing
he cries and cries
no one comes to his aid
every milliliter filling his body
not healing, not improving
this evil throb that pulses
through the heart
'But it is supposedly to heal?'
Nay,
What good does it do when the dosage never ceases?
If only he could resolve himself
and
remove those FUCKING needles.
But he lies in that bed
alone
only able to listen to that incessant
drip drip drop
like a horrible torture in the 'guise of cure!

Eulogy

2007-12-06T18:17:00.001-08:00

I had to write a Eulogy about myself for a class, check it out.

Seth was like a brother to me, and I don’t mean that in a literal way, I mean that in the way black people use it because I think it’s more meaningful. Seth would have appreciated that line, he loved Zoolander (the movie) and he loved to laugh. But Seth also enjoyed making people laugh. Whether it was stripping down to nothing but his boxers while in a very small closet or one of his many witty one liners, he always managed to make us smile. Even when his sardonic batting average was below normal, he kept swinging. He was able to loose his sincerity and admit defeat when he made a lame joke.

Before he passed away, he handed me a slip of paper and told me that he wanted to be remembered for his list of accomplishments. So here goes, “I would like to be remembered for inventing the following; snow shoes, gym whistles and cummerbunds, the magneto hydrodynamic drive, scissors and moonshine. Don’t forget to mention my accomplishments, the first to climb past Mt. Everest. Being the first man in space and the first to walk on the moon SIMULTAINIOUSLY! And the first to tame the wild buffalo. And if there is enough time, be sure to tell them about that time I parted the Red sea. I know its hard for you all to laugh today, losing the worlds greatest magician, but I know that Seth would love to see you all happy.”

While Seth would be thrilled to see hope in your eyes, I know that he also would want to leave you with some parting insight into what made him into the man we all knew him to be. Andy Warhol said, “We are all walking advertisements of who we want to be.” For Seth, this rang true. He asked me to share with you all that, he like many of you, projected only what he wanted to be perceived as. For some this is hard to accept as Seth was a very specific personality that we all loved for simply what it was, not always simple, not always pure, not always honest, just simply Seth. When we were younger, I asked him, ‘how do you want to be remembered?’ To which he, as he often did, replied with a smirk of sarcasm, “well…I always felt like there was more to life than being really really really, ridiculously good looking.” When I finally managed to squeeze a sincere answer out of him he said, ‘I want to be remembered as someone who spent his life trying to understand what it meant to follow Jesus. Trying to follow even when every once of my body would rather not.” And for those of us who knew him, this was the case, that he struggled to understand and it times was flat out angry with perceiving why God would do certain things in his life. Seth would admit that being challenged was especially hard for him and understanding this God, he said, was the greatest challenge he never wanted to attempt. But he did.

Seth wouldn’t want me to try to convince you that he had the answers to a good life. In fact, he would probably say that life is not about your accomplishments, which is probably why he, in the fashion of a turn of the century Dadist, would make a posthumous mockery of accomplishments he clearly never made. The world may define you either by Philanthropy or by atrocity. It may admire your accomplishments and forget you for your mediocrity. It may love and hate you for your celebrity. But this world does not define you. And when you believe that, you are free and when you are free, then, you can truly live. However, there is a catch. You will in fact, fail again and again to meet this goal. But, you will pick yourself up and try again.

In addition to his sense of humor, Seth had a profound love for music and art. He felt that there was always a song or a piece that could correspond to how one felt at that exact moment. There were times when Seth would listen to one particular artist and play their song on guitar or piano, over and over and over and over again. And it would drive us nuts. Some of us could not stand to listen to the bands original music anymore because he had played it so many god damn times! But, in spite of our frustrations, Seth was connecting to the music in a deeper way. Even though it was not his, he was experiencing making it with his hands and his voice and taking on a sort of syndicated ownership. But every so often, he would do it to impress a cute girl. While he loved the attention that he got for that, he once said to me, “I’ll fall for a girl who isn’t impressed by me but loves me just because I have lots of money.” Getting back to the music, Seth would write songs and on occasion they were quite good but he never felt they (the songs) had the edge that so money of the artists he adored carried. He admired the songs for the stories that they told, and his problem was, he was terrible at story telling. He would get so excited and try to tell us stories sometimes and you could see in his eyes that he thought it was the greatest thing ever and come to the end of his story only to realize how bad it was. But, it was never a complete failure; we (Seth included) always managed to get a laugh out of it. He did eventually came to the conclusion that song writing and story telling where not his forte. But when it came to Art, we always enjoyed listening to Seth talk about it. He studied Art History at University and loved learning about the artists throughout history. And while the art that they produced may have been fascinating, I think what he really enjoyed was learning the stories that inspired these people and what made them tick. On some level these artists had a mystique to them, but what was most intriguing to Seth was discovering the ragged, sometimes troubled lives that inspired the opus of these individuals. And that was his passion, people. To amend that, he like anyone, had his fair share of un-wanted interactions, embarrassing moments and the like. But, over all, he was all about people. His personality would not allow for anything else but to be engaging and outgoing.

Some may be comfortable subscribing to the super-spiritual, that Seth is still a part of us or Seth isn’t dead as long as we keep his memory alive. And while, we will have those memories, we must realize that he is gone. We will never experience him in new ways, we will never laugh, love, cry with him again. A lot of people have become accustomed to death. They say it’s a part of life. The fact is it’s only a part of life because we become accustomed to it. I’m not saying we should seek to be immortal, but Seth always felt we were made to be that way. You can feel it in a reluctant break up or when a friend moves away. We don’t like to say goodbye to those we love…at least on a permanent basis. So, in concordance with his last wish, we have provided all the adults a shot of Seth’s favorite whiskey and for those who do not prefer that, we have grape juice. So raise your glass with me as we toast our friend,

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou seest the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire

Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.[1]

Cheers!

[1] Shakespeare’s 73 sonnet

Why Bachelor degree's are now worthless pieces of shit

2007-11-19T08:31:00.000-08:00

On the outside, a calm demeanor but on the inside, a cascading sea of profanity, anger and disappointment. As my undergrad life draws to a close, and I look everywhere for a job, I am constantly bombarded by three or so words, 'must have experience' This proverbial slap in the face is re-fucking-ridiculous. I have just completed a degree that cost me over $30,000 so that I can spend the next 10 years of my life paying off a worthless piece of shit degree. "Must have experience"? I just had an experience, I just waisted 4 and 1/2 years of my life earning a degree that won't get me anywhere except deeper in debt. I don't like to feel that I am entitled to anything, that is to say, I have to battle the urge to feel entitled, but at the very least, I would say it is unfair for students like myself to owe such a debt of money and not be provided with any form of co-op that would lead to a job. It's irresponsible on the part of the school, the government and private lenders to lend us money and not at the very least, help provide us a transition into the working world. Not only does this benefit us, it benefit's them. Werd.

Dear Claire,

2007-11-05T21:14:00.000-08:00

Dear Claire Danes,
Please marry me?

with devotion,
S.

The Phillies

2007-09-05T13:56:00.000-07:00

The commitment of being a Phillies fan often far outweighs the reward. How can I team completely dominate the best time in their division and then lose to two lower ranked teams? I know it's baseball and it changes, but, come the F### on?!

My Bike

2007-08-20T21:00:00.000-07:00

Someone tried to take my bike from me today. I left it locked up at the train station early this morning and when I went to pick it up tonight, my Kryptonite mini u-lock looked as if it had been beaten to a pulp, literally all of the rubber bits were gone and the aluminum attacher was missing chunks but it held strong and protect my bike. To the ingenious folks of kryptonite I offer my thanks and to the would be theifs and vandals I would say, next time, don' t even bother.

If I can figure out how to get pictures up, I will.

WITHdrawl

2007-08-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

I've decided that God is bigger than my problems. That doesn't mean it stops hurting when I think of her nor does it mean my anxiety, depression and lack of vision for what God wants me to do with my life goes away. I still feel ignored but that doesn't mean I am. My encouragement has been what God is able to accomplish in peoples lives. His ability to change a coward into a warrior. Sonship continues and it literally touches my heart to hear these great stories of Christ changing people forever. I should add that it takes years of breaking people down but, eventually, Christ wins them. So, my worries are not absolved by a long shot nor is my frustration evaporated but I believe God is overhauling my heart, at least that's my prayer.

Beers and Mates

2007-07-10T21:34:00.000-07:00

Man, How fantastic is it to sit at a large table and drink and talk with friends. Even the occasional song or two to lift the spirits and bring on the laughter. You walk away from an experience like that with a very natural high and a giant smile on your face. I suppose that is what heaven ought to be like. A table full of food and good drink, feasting with God and your friends, it's really exciting to think about. Tonight I had a wonderful time with people I love and who I know love me. In a time of what I regard as frustration and hurt, like a relentless storm on a sea, moments like these are pure mercy to my little wooden ship of a soul. And while there are odds and bits that need fixing, I can say that at least I am past the dock and in the open water. Yes, I know, Analogy overload, sorry. All in all, a fantastic evening.

June 5

2007-06-05T22:24:00.000-07:00

Do you remember when you were little and following Jesus was so simple? What happened to that? I thought of that today. Really wanting to follow Jesus is in reality like looking at a landscape, as far as the eye can see, covered with weeds and knowing that every one of those plants is going to have to be ripped out and thrown away. As this pertains to me, I've never been a fan of gardening or pulling weeds for that matter. I would just as soon higher someone else to do it for me. Forgive me if I sound cliche, I'm merely remarking upon the fact that there is so much work to do and I'm not up for the task. Granted, I suppose that's what Jesus' job is, but my cynicism and unbelief in what God can do is like adding miracle grow to the mix. I want to believe that God can change my heart but I lack the faith to do so. I believe in God because I'm afraid of Hell. I believe in God when things work out for me. I believe in God when I see the beauty of this world and am told that there is something far greater. But when hardship comes, my heart has a tendency of hardening and being angry with God. As much as I want my heart to love and worship God in those times, I find that in spite of my prayers it doesn't seem to change. It really feels like God's not there.
So, I want to make some changes in my life. I want to seek God as if without him I could not breathe. I'm going to be taking the Sonship course in order to have a revitalized foundation of what the Gospel is. I am also getting counseling in the hopes of growing to be a better man as Christ has called me to be. I would be lying if I said that part of this wasn't inspired by my desire to be a better friend, boyfriend, spouse to someone. I realize however that I cannot attain any of this if God is not the center of my life. That is my hope

Seth

When God Speaks...

2007-05-21T10:03:00.000-07:00

What is he telling you to do? We're supposed to seek first the kingdom of heaven, and then all things shall be added. But sometimes I feel it's not that clear. While we pursue God are we also not at liberty to pursue other interests as long as we keep our priorities in line? I don't know, that's what I'm asking. I have to admit that lately I'm just going through the motions and I don't exactly know what is missing. I don't think it's helpful for people to tell me how God speaks to them, I think he moves in different ways in different people. I am willing and ready for his instruction, maybe it's just that I wish I could see where he was going with his plan for my life. Who the hell wouldn't?

Sufjan explains it all

2007-04-23T21:59:00.000-07:00

i can't explain the state that i'm in
the state of my heart, he was my best friend
into the car, from the backseat
oh admiration in falling asleep
all of my powers, day after day
i can tell you, we swaggered and swayed
deep in the tower, the prairies below
i can tell you, the telling gets old
terrible sting and terrible storm
i can tell you the day we were born
my friend is gone, he ran away
i can tell you, i love him each day
though we have sparred, wrestled and raged
i can tell you i love him each day
terrible sting and terrible storm
i can tell you.

-Sufjan Stevens, The Predatory Wasp of Palisades is Out to Get Us

This Morning

2007-04-09T06:10:00.000-07:00

As I lay mostly asleep in my bed this morning, I felt something warm on my neck. At first it felt like a sun beam or something, but then as I felt the warmth move across my arm, I awoke to find a mouse had used me as a means to get to my window sill. As I sat there, the mouse ran across the window sill and then jumped down and ran behind my dresser. I then proceeded to get a mousetrap, set it and go back to sleep.

Short Story Pt. 1

2007-04-05T22:35:00.000-07:00

Peter woke up freezing cold. His head throbbing, induced by a night of heavy drinking and what he perceived at this point to be a good trip. He felt as if he had been sleeping on pebbles and sure enough, he had been. He had not yet opened his eyes but from where he lay he could hear what sounded like traffic and the occasional quickened pace of what he assumed to be joggers. With th sun beating down, and his arms far too tired to provide a necessary cover, he started to squint and gather his bearings. He turned his head to one side and admired some familiar architecture. Turning to the other side, again he noticed the same similar buildings that had been a constant destination in grade school for field trips. Upon sitting up he came to realize his initial thoughts had been correct. He had fallen asleep in the middle of the mall in Washington D.C. As he went to get up he couldn't help but yelp at the stiffness that stretched from his neck to his hip. Peter finally righted himself on both legs and began to lumber forward, trying to warm up his body which felt stale after an impromptu camp out session.
Something however, was different today. Granted, He had just spent a night outside, which even when planned had never been a suitable form of recreation for Peter. But, for some unexplainable reason he felt unburdened. Maybe, it was just a good mood he had woken up in. Peter had always considered himself an optimist, but given the present circumstance under which he had begun this particular day, it seemed hard to justify that a good mood was the reason behind his enlightened predicament. Heading toward the station he reached in his coat pocket to scrounge for a couple of bucks to catch the train and he noticed for the first time an irritating stickiness. He put his hands to his nose and distinctively determined the source to be Pine Sap. Peter thought to himself, "What the Hell Happened last night?" as he began to descend into the subway station.

My New Blog home

2007-03-26T14:07:00.000-07:00

This should be far less distracting than myspace was. And for those of you who enjoy my bloggorea, a fair more appropriate place.

salute!

Where Does Your Joy Come From?

2007-03-12T14:39:00.000-07:00

Good question. As a Christian, I say I believe that my only comfort in life and in Death is in Christ Jesus. When it comes to application, I'm far from what I claim to be. I mean, I believe my joy should come from Jesus, but being the socially extroverted person that I am, I have such a hard time finding contentment and joy in God instead of getting it from people. I find myself seeking to be comforted by people and not God, the fact is, I seek God, but I feel like I am not getting what I want, to be soothed. I look for Love in my friends, my girlfriend, my parents, school mates, house mates, etc. And nothing seems to satiate my desire, not even God. Does that simply mean he does not want me to be fulfilled? does he want me to grow? Why do I feel so emotionally dead, spiritually depleted. I'm 22 and I'm already broken, I feel un-fixable. The fact is my dear friends and readers, that I am in a Valley. It's scary because I'm afraid of being in this Valley for the rest of my life. Is this depression? I dunno, I can function and find brief periods of joy, but I feel like I'm looking for love in all the wrong places and I don't feel like I know how to let God satisfy me. Although, strangely in this time, I feel called to worship, and in that, there lies some peace.

Psalm 51

2007-01-15T14:42:00.000-08:00

"The Sacrifices of God are a broken spirit,; a broken and contrite heart, oh God you will not despise."

When we are broken, that is when we really understand grace. Asking God to be broken and actually mean it I find to be the scariest and yet most necessary thing. Now, God does not delight in torture, to take away something good is not in his nature, for he is good. However, he remains a jealous God, and everytime I read that, I cannot help but to smile. God is not PC and he is not tame. When we ask him to fix our shattered lives he does not let up for anything but perfection, to paraphrase Lewis. Now, As I understand it, there is enough sin in my everyday life to cause brokeness. So why wait for an annual breakdown. Why not begin each day understanding how broken I am and end that day secure in his grace and justified by his sacrifice. My prayer is for a broken heart everyday, renewed by the overwhelming love that never forgets, fails, lets go.