Valedico

Normally, my updates are of a more heavy profound nature, words spun to articulate a lesson I've learned, a message I've formed, or some other thought, idea, or process.  However, this time, there are no eloquent words in the form of delicate oration, no carefully articulated speeches, no diatribes of the existential, just merely a burdened heart "Valedico" (To say goodbye).  So instead of such pompous words I offer this, in whatever spirit it may be taken, take it thus.

Valedico.

Valedico, valedico, valedico.  My heart weeps at the thought, I must utter such curses.  To say to you, a dear friend, a confidant, a brother, a sister, a love perhaps lost.  To utter to you these horrible words, my heart breaks.  Some of you I have found great honor in knowing, you have guided me to a better view of myself, my world, and my life.  Some of you I have poured out my heart to, cried some, laughed much, and sides of me have been unveiled that were never meant to be seen.  Some of you, though only a short while I have known, have touched my life in ways yet still unshown.  To you, who my heart has touched, to you few who've touched my own, I say Valete.
My days of late have been spent by spending a few last moments with those people I have known, those hearts I have touched, and those whose hearts have touched me, my heart weeps at the sound of such simple words, to say goodbye, to say farewell, but please know that I will not say such treacherous words without knowing that its days are numbered, when after a time, the goodbyes will end, the sun will rise and a greeting I shall soon extend.  To you of whom I spoke, know that this, is to you wrote.
I say, for now, and just for now, a short goodbye, a short farewell, until one day when a hug will say the greetings my voice could not.
For now, and just for now...
Valedico.. valedico, valedico.

The dark side of light.

So, it occurs to me, that many people have no concept of what Christianity is.  I know the Islamic community believes we are all sinners because they hear us declare that we are a Christian nation, and then they see lady Gaga, and wonder what sort of God would support that. The Atheistic community looks at us talk about our heady theology, and our scientific quarries, watching us claim the name of Christ and then turn around and bomb a family planning clinic, or turn our backs on someone because they didn't live up to the standard. If we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the light is not in us.  Are we truly so depraved that we can call ourselves Christian if we ignore the very words of Christ with our behavior yet condemn a man for his sin?
We live on the darker side of light.
I recently came to an understanding that I am not who I thought I had been for the last 20 years. In fact I wasn't even alive until roughly 10years ago. I look back into my memory and see darkness.  Not the theological sort but real relentless darkness, I can't even see myself back there.
This brings me to a place where I realize I don't know who I am.
Or rather who I've been.  I lived as a secret for years, unknowing of my words. What I liked, or wanted.. I was asleep. Literally dead without knowing it.
I was a prisoner in my mind.
Now I have grown up in the Church, and I have never known separation from God, so how can I know where my brother is if I have never seen his world?
I cannot.
I have grown afraid of the self I never met, and now am at first discovering I hadn't lived yet.
This stuck a fear of great proportion in me, if I was born somewhere in my 9th grade year, then who lived my life, what was he like, what had he done that I will have to account for?
I live with such fear or this that I surpassed it and now I have lost it.
But to my point, I have never lived away from the grace of Christ, but I have lived in secret, and I must new ask myself.. where do you go when you realize your life didn't happen?
When the walls come crashing to he floor. I know my teachers would say run to God, but how does one run to a being not physically in their world? How does one  surrender to he that cannot be seen?
This I do not know.
But faith as I am told is to believe even though there is no tangible evidence, and evidence in my experience is not so objective as it is, so evidence without imperacle process is even less so.  But my heart and soul and mind can't be manipulated like that, not that well, and that concurrently not that perfectly, so thee must be truth there.. truth even though truth cannot be seen so scientifically.  I have resolved that as I had not lived until so recently it serves to ask had I ever been saved from myself? If no, then what have I been doing? Could that exain it?
What had he done that I must account for? Is there grace for me?
Is there mercy for me?
Is there love for me?
Has he even met me?
These are the cries of a newly realized heart, cries from the darker side of light.

When Truth defies Logic

So, one day I'm sitting at Church (cliche I know), and I had been worrying about what on earth I was going to do with my life.  Work was seemingly not an option, school had become a non-reality, and life just seemed to be spiraling out of control.  Then (yes chliche, no fire or visions I promise) an Idea kind of just popped into my head. The Honor Academy.
Five years ago, back in my days as an Angel (metaphorical, so no, I'm not insane, just used to be really really saint-like), I attended a Youth Conference, Acquire the Fire.  This was the catalyst that really sparked my passion for youth, for the hurting, for God.  I worshiped there, like never before, and from there I ended up launching into a radical Christianity that infected every part of my life.  I was so not you're Sunday-Wednesday christian (little c).  God was everything.  While I was there, I took the opportunity to listen to a speaker discuss the Honor Academy, and from that moment, I've dreamed of going.  Now, for one reason or another, it just wasn't possible.  No money, or a job, or a girl friend, it just wasn't happening.  I went to work at Camp Shamineau, and that fire just grew hotter.  Until one very wonderful day (note the sarcasm) when my whole life just crashed.. and then life seems to want to see just how far down it can crash.  So like I said, I'm sitting at Upper Room,   and the idea just kind of pops into my head, so, I hop on my phone and fill out the application (not really expecting much).  In the weeks that follow I just can't seem to shake this idea.  Honor Academy... phone calls, scrounging up the initial fees, more phone calls, conversations, and interviews,  and the idea just keeps getting more rooted in my mind.  Then came the excruciating wait-week.  Waiting... just waiting to hear back, to find out if I am going to be able to go.. very painful.
It was crazy, I officially left the era of teenagedness on Tuesday the 5th of July, reaching my second decade of life (scary thought), and it was Tuesday, at 3:25pm that I got the phone call... I was accepted.
Now, I don't express a lot of emotion usually, and I'm almost never overcome by it, but I was having a tough time breathing hearing that news, I was basically in shock.
However, it seemed that my fees were not all paid. Now there was this $200 Housing deposit that needed to be paid within the first two weeks.  Scary thought for a poor ex-college kid (really college drop-out *Cringes!*) with no job, but I had to believe that if this is in fact where God wanted me this year, then He's on tap for making it happen, cuz I certainly can't.  I had no clue where I was getting this 200 bucks from, and yet another crazy moment happened... I got a check from a friend (for my birthday ): ) The check was for the whole 200!
God made it clear in my head that this is happening... and He has continued to amaze me since then.

Now for those of you who know me, you know how (obnoxiously) logical I am, you know I don't accept ANYTHING blindly, so the fact that I am a Christian probably screws with some of your heads, but I know that this God cannot be a placebo, too many coincidences and ridiculous things have happened in my life from how I am still alive, to how on earth this is a reality, theres just no way chance can make it happen its a statistical improbability bordering on impossibility.

God is moving, and I, being as screwed up and fallen as I am, should be the first to say, no fable can do what has happened in my life and no law of physics can account for it, no psychological theory, or philosophical postulation can encompass my experience, and for that I bow to truth above comfortability, and I am grateful that I have had the chance to see it happen.

Anyway, that's been my life these last months, I hope this meant something to those of you who took the time to read it all... God bless.

At the Stoplight of life

I know its been a while since I said anything at all, and I would wander to the notion that I have yet to say anything of lasting value yet.. so allow me a moment to change that.

A variety of things have happened since my last post, namely moving home, finding a brand new church, and re-establishing my faith.  To the few who read this having actually met me, they may be surprised to know I have been a terrible example of Christ in their lives as of late.  So to support that, and perhaps open the door to fix it, I'll tell you the story of what these last weeks have amounted to.

Roughly two and a half weeks ago, my friend invited me to her church, its The Crossing in Elk River.  So I went.   I was struck by the Christ-like attitude of everyone I met there, I was blown away by the worship and how much I could feel that the people here were not just singing, not like at other churches at least.  I was further astonished by the message, the speaker was talking on the story of Ruth, I know it well, and her style was not new, nor was her message, however; I can tell you God moved there.  I talked with my friend for something like six hours after that.. and I realized I had come to a crossroads, to either accept or (continue to) deny that God chooses to love me.

Understand, I have grown up in the church.  I sang the song "Jesus Loves Me" ad-nauseum.. and I have read, re-read, and memorized John 3:16 to the point of callus. I have heard more times than I could count "Jesus love you" "God loves you" or "Grace abounds."  But I am too well versed in the nature of the Church to have said "God cannot love me" so much as "he shouldn't love me"  which I still believe, and no honest believer would disagree.  However much I know he does, did, and will, I'm afraid to let him, because then maybe I won't be tortured anymore, my punishment will end, and I don't believe that is okay.  So I rejected it for so long.

I prayed, really, for the first time in a while, and I was honest, I said "I'm not ready for what that means, but I'll give it a go anyway."  For the first time in three years, I felt okay.  Life seemed to have healed some, at least enough that I could assume I was finally going to wake from this coma and thrive again.  Little did I know that I was far from that point.  a couple of days later I ended up finally moving back home, which is a bitter sweet thing.  I went back to the Crossing this last Saturday, and oddly enough (again) the message was perfectly applicable in my life.  Conflict. the verse that they centered on was Micah 6:8

^"He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?"

Do Justice:  in my life right now I need to do what is right, even if it hurts, even if it means I am embarrassed, or consequently lose the fight.. or feel like I have forfeited something to my opponent.
Love Kindness:  Leave the harsh words behind me, leave the snapping back at the door, my arrogance, and selfish-motives have no right to impose on my actions.
Walk Humbly with my God:  What am I?  We so often get it in our heads that we can somehow demand an audience with the God we worship.  Why? We are nothing! We drown in merely three inches of water (not even enough to bathe in.  Wind, which literally nothing! pushes us over, and tears up earth killing two people in MN! Not to mention micro-scopic little bugs (supposedly lower [lowest] evolved organisms) kill us.. and debilitate us!  With what authority can such pathetic excuses for organisms are we that we can demand a response or complain about the choices of a God who designed it all?

We cannot.

This is hard for me.
To first let him love, and second let myself be inferior.
To shut up.
To sit down.
To back away, because I will make it worse the harder I try.

I'm learning how to let him love, its hard, it hurts, but I'm sure if clay could talk... it would laugh at me for how little I have to deal with compared to being torn, mashed, and incinerated before its ready to do its job... and that right there... that makes it worth a try.

I am trying to learn how to be loved again, to find the balance between becoming who I was made to be, and not becoming so consumed by the dreams that I forget how insignificant I am.
To not get lost in training for the Olympics that I ruin my life in the process and forget why I signed up in the first place.

So, I will take this moment, and apologize to my friends who may read this, for my pathetic excuse for my faith, and I will promise that while I cannot promise to be good at it, I will try to be a better ambassador of Christ than I have, and maybe then, truth can win out over my pride and God moves.

God bless. 

Watch This Space

Today, is the first day of academic freedom.  I finished my second Freshman year of College (PSEO screws you up a lot), and honestly, I am sitting here in my mostly empty apartment and I'm not enjoying it as much as I wish I could.  A couple days ago (okay, a week), my roommate Tyler moved out,we never really connected much, but I miss him anyway,  Tomorrow morning, my roommate Chris is leaving, and then sometime after that Jeff.  They're leaving my life, in the same order they entered it.  It's been a year now in College, officially, and I look back over the year, and I think... wow... what happened??
I'm not an optimist, nor am I a pessimist, so I suppose all that's left to be is a realist.  I'm sad to see the three guys I lived with, ate with, cleaned with, and studied with leave, knowing the very real chances I won't see them again.  The friendships I've; made, lost, rebuilt, and all the others throughout this year are definitely life-changing.  The sad part is, the few that I loved so much, are the very same ones I will not likely see either.  My CA (for the rest of the world RA)  Press, it was like looking into the mirror, there are more similarities than differences, yet the differences are so deeply rooted it's quite really odd we get along.  However, none the less, I will miss him, oh so very greatly.  there are so many others that have impacted my life, and as per usual they're the ones that last as long as a breath in the Minnesota winter air.
Now, I could sit here, and recount the moments that I will miss for the rest of my life, and utterly depress you, or I could merely tell you the stories, either way pouring words of intrinsically worthless value ad nauseum, or I could say something worth the time you've already put into this.
Time is the currency of the living, and we have no better an economic system than the US Federal Government as it is, yet alas, there is no economic reform for this.  God gave us a credit card, and we eventually have to pay the balance.  it seems that the running theme in each post has been to impart some kind of urge to do something, and it seems that this one is of no exception.  Life is expensive, the cost of living inside the Human Body is immense and if the Russians were more philosophically minded I'm sure they'd have revolted here too.  We spend out use our cards on people, work, school, video-games, books, food, and sleeping, and that can comprise the fullness of one's life.  I don't want to advocate that we spend less or even consider the wisdom involved in people, so I wont, but perhaps we should check, and make sure we're investing in people not tithing.  Within the last few days a friend of mine got a call that her aunt had died, my best friend lives with the fear of getting a phone call saying her Husband was KIA, my mom lives with the same terror, and yet I woke up this morning and couldn't have cared less about any of it, I just laid there and tried to muster the decision making powers to resurrect my body from its nocturnal damnation.  Maybe, we should spend a little less time caring about what happened last night, and a little more on how to make today worth the memory.  Maybe instead of our first tweet being about the hangover from the party, it should be "WATCH THIS SPACE" and then make it worthy of the comments, and questions, and recount the awesomeness of our day.. maybe we should use our card more on a meaningful moment with a new friend, and less on the fight...

so... in anticipation for tomorrow...

WATCH THIS SPACE

I'm sitting here.. and wondering why do I care?

This is the third time I've gotten about half of a page written down and scrapped it. I'm sitting here and I'm wondering, why do I care what you think about what I'm writing. I'm thinking, and finding myself even more perplexed at the thought that you care at all! I'm a quirky college student in a less than prestigious school, here in the coldest most misunderstood state I'm aware of and I'm wondering, why on earth do you care?

To you, I am no one, to you I am a random voice amid trillions pandering for your attention, and so far theres nothing that you should possibly think is worth the reading. Yet, here I am.

It occurs to me, that you don't read this for the mere sake of learning, or for the sake of any other academic prowess. You read this because you read this. There is no necessarily logical, reasonable, predictable fact that should endow any expectation for you to read this, but yet, you are. Right now, you have traversed 175 words. 175 words more than was on the internet before, 175 words more than you had read in your life, 175 more words than I've written in my life. I heard once; that "an artists job is to captivate you, for as long as we have asked for your attention." I can't say that I am much of an artist, least ways, not any more, but I have asked for your attention this day, and you have been generous. What then can I captivate you with?

What if I were to ask you a question?

What if I were to take the role for a moment, and stand in your room, and ask you a question as you yourself would ask of you?

Permit me.

This is my question to you; "What are you doing?"

You woke up today, you went to class, took a test, read a book, or maybe just bummed around facebook. You grabbed a meal, or saw some friends, but I really want to know, what are you doing? Have you done anything of value today? Have you done anything of worth? Have you even once in the last week done something that may actually matter enough as to be remembered be even one person as an action of value?

I haven't.

I suppose, after considering that, and finding perhaps, that you are just as lazy as I am, the next logical question must be "Are you okay with that?"

Are you?

I'm not.. I'm asking myself the same questions, and I'm annoyed, of furious, or disgusted, I can't tell.

Maybe if we took a little time to matter, we could possibly see the world get its act together. Maybe if we were a bit more intentional about what we say, and what we do, maybe then we could stop fighting with our girlfriends, or stop bickering with our boyfriends, about dramatically over-valued things we said two weeks ago, perhaps then we could get down to what really matters, have more than our friends who we eat lunch with, and play Smash with, have a deeper relationship with someone than how was class? or Where's my bong. Maybe if we cared a little more about making 24 hours worth the fact of living it, our petty squabbles would matter less, and maybe just maybe we actually get to know each other.

However, I caution you (and am reminding myself), getting to know someone does have one draw back, it leaves you open to getting hurt. Hearts deal in scars, either by the giving of them at at midnight, or the healing of them at dawn. A heart without scars knows not life itself, for all of life is a dialog, and a heart without scars has never spoken. If you fear the chance of scarring so much that you never attempt it, you will never know the joy of having a friend, and that, that is just far too terrible a thought to ponder.

All right, I'l stop bending you ears, but think about this.. if today your life ended, what will you be remembered for by those you leave behind, and is it worthy of memory, whether it be or not, what can you do tomorrow to make tomorrow worth it?

A little thing I call Cadence & Candor

I sat there, at my computer, and thought what on earth do you name this?  I thought about exactly what I want the name to encompass, I thought about ironies, satires, metaphors, and puns, I thought about my loves, my thoughts, my losses, and my longings, and then I thought about other blogs. In other blogs, I usually wind up  wanting to laugh at how much of their life is lived online, and knew I couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't want to do that.  Therefore, it is with sober minded and measured excitement that I present to you just a little thing I call "Cadence and Candor."

For some of you it may make little sense, but for others this will be painful.  Cadence is the rhythmic character of a speech, and candor is a frankness.  I figure, if I am to make use of this blog, I may as well do so with cadence and candor.  Giving a reader a refreshing change of literary pace, and a sobering Socratic perspective.

This won't be a running tally of my Call of Duty Kills, or my daily reprimand of the local chapter of the  "There But By the Grace of God" Society.  What it will be however, is; sometimes a response, sometimes a retort, sometimes an interesting thought, and others a lesson taught.

Enjoy, this, a little thing I call "Cadence and Candor".