Fine thoughts and Philosophies.
this is where you write stuff thats not poetry.
Welcome to the creative writer's playground, for those who appreciate PROFUNDITY, NON-SENSE, and WIT. and for those special individuals who find themselves unusually drawn to grammar? Write at will, write whatever, read whatever... whatever. This blog is just as much for the reader as it is for the writer.
143 comments:
Today I mopped the floors with my foot and a rag. the handy dandy stick mop broke.. not so handy anymore. and for the purpose of entertaining myself I began to imagine feet-mopping as an olympic sport...like curling, except if maybe all the curling sticks broke. and then all the curlers would be forced to curl with their feet and the world would be forced to introduce the game as extreme foot mopping.
previous written by Janis
By Amanda
The Coffee Shop
It’s interesting to watch these people. there are so many and yet so few. I try to imagine who they are. I wonder about their lives, what they’ve had to go through. I wonder if they’re happy. In this world, happiness is so hard to find. The world within a coffee shop however, is a magical place. Strangers that have a common interest, coffee, Can come and meet. The relationships that have been formed at coffee shops are everlasting. Coffee brings people together. I on the other hand hate coffee. I come to watch people. I come to see how they react to a wrong order or the sudden mysterious appearance of a handsome stranger. This is what I write about, though no one knows who I am. My first book was “A Collaboration of Thoughts” , My first masterpiece. Now, as I begin my second masterpiece, I notice how the coffee shop dynamics have changed. People with latte’s sit with people with frappacino’s. I see in people innocence and curiosity. The people are like school children. So nervous about sitting with someone they don’t know. Relaxed as they sit alone and read the paper. The frazzled mothers trying to keep track of the screaming toddlers. It’s almost like a movie. I watch as all this calm and chaos plays out. No one notices me in my corner. I am sitting in my favorite poof chair in the corner where no one can bother my meditations. I get an almost nostalgic feeling sitting here and watching. I was once in the position that everyone here is in now.
I was a mother, daughter, wife. Now I am alone. My parents died, my husband left me and my son was kidnaped 5 years ago. I have no one and I am no one. But at the coffee shop, I’m someone.
By:Amanda
This is not By Joplin but For Joplin:
I was just remembering my Junior year when you and I were really attached at the hip! We went to the same school, sang in the same chorus, were involved in the same ministry team,and had a lot of the same friends. We drove everywhere together! Sometimes we'd crank the music so loud!! But I treasure those Sunday morning drives to Doulos when we'd have our own worship set and when it seemed the most beautiful and heartfelt songs were on the radio. And those Thursdays night drives from Uturn when we usually didn't play music being too busy talking.
I loved how we could share what we were excited about, what brought dissapointment and what great hopes we had for the work God would do.
Then the real changes took place. You started at the new school. You tried some new things like sports instead of Chorus(my hero)! And you even stepped out to start a new ministry! We no longer drove everywhere together, and it was hard to get used to the changes..I missed all that time we had together.. but our relationship still grew, just in different ways. Even without these changes, I still think you would have found a way to break loose! :)
I see now how God used those changes to grow us individually.
I hated being away from you for so long when I was in Europe but it gave me a deeper appreciation for our friendship. Your determination, creativity, and all out passion for Jesus inspire me so much! I came back so excited to see you and to have you as my sister! Everyone kept telling me how much you have changed. But I know better:) It's always been in you. The creativity in everything from music to writing and the leadership skills were all there. It was just time to let them shine a little brighter! I am thankful for the things that have been and excited about the things to come.
Thank you for sharing your life with me. Thank you for being my sister. *JY*
Catch 22
so why pharmocology, I asked? You're the second one this month to tell me that's where my future lies. Well, she said, cause thats where all the money is these days. What the heck? I'm thinking. I hate money. Money is..Money is just a conveniently revolving door waiting to cast me upon the hateful rat race. stupid hateful rat race. you're in, you're hooked, you're in for life. arrg. and then I reconsidered: "on the uthuh hand" I need money. I need stuff. Stuff costs stuff. stuff called money. I need money. so many people who determine themselves against the dollar are bums these days. kidding themselves, all of them. They don't do what they love, they do what they must, they do what they're told to get by. they bum rides! ugh. and they sit there reading their depressing doomsday novels thinking they're changing the world one "boycott-against-conformity" at a time. and they secretly wish they hadn't been so lazy. losers. I need money. I hate money. I don't want to be pathetic, but I don't want to be the same. I don't want to admit that I depend so greatly on some stupid paper, but I don't want to be stuck in the timeshare-terror addiction of looking for the next investment, the next promotion, the next jello coupon. "Such a deal," they say. yeah such a deal, such a big deal. why does it have to be such a big darn deal?
...Janis...
written by JAnis
(in honor of Israel Luna.) hahaha
I was lost. There was no other way to describe my plight though I wished it were not so dramatic. A concerned citizen once pointed out to me that I had trouble making decisions but I hadn't understood what he meant until now: "what can I do for you today?" the words rang out and sent the next few moments ticking like a time bomb. umm.. uhh latte? no, no, frappacino? hot caramel apple cider or pumkin spice? fat free? tall? ice, no ice? I guess I forgot to tell them I didn't speak french. the cashier lifted one eyebrow and glanced at his watch. uuhh, umm, "well, I'm not exactly sure yet. Why don't you go ahead sir." It was unbelievable the genius of the man behind me. I think he practiced on the weekends, because he didn't even bother looking at the menu. He knew just what he wanted, and as I watched in amazement He spoke, he paid, he conquered. and then he left with out a second thought. "alright, you're up kid" I bit my fingernails and studied the menu hard. the pressure mounted. okay, uhh that! yeah thats what I want, I think. Is that what I got last time? yeah sure thats what I want, I think. at least I'm almost positive.. no.. it was, wasn't it?.. ugh I don't know "I'll have what's she's having" I pointed to my friend standing beside me holding her green cup. gross. it looked terribe what ever it was. "thank you. come again..." I drop my penny change into the plastic "tips" cup, took my new $2.25 concoction and sank into the chocolate brown armchair across the room. my friend laughed at me. I puched her in the arm and laughed a little too. I think I'll pass on the starbucks run next time, if not for my dignity than for my blood pressure!
Derranged
(a fictional story by Janis)
he tossed and turned.
It really wasn't that big of a deal.
was it?
he opened his eyes in the dark room. "Carl? you awake?" he could see the dark form lying in the bed next to his, peaceful and quiet. Carl's chest rose and fell, and lay still again for just a moment. Again it rose and fell, rose and fell. Carl was good at keeping routine here. he brushed his teeth, he combed his hair, he took his meds. and he routinely lost to their chess games. Avi was the undefeated chess champion of the rec hall. Glorious white reck hall. beautiful white reck hall. sometimes he got confused though. and he hated that reck hall for moments that ended and resumed and then ended and his eyes grew wild and he always won those chess games. Carl lost again today, and he went to bed quickly, so Avi wondered if he were upset. it was unsettled, the whole bit, just like last time, and Avi couldn't stand things unsettled. Last time Carl had left things unsettled. Avi had to sock him in the nose. Heaving a weary sigh, Avi closed his eyes to sleep again and dreampt the familiar scene: sandy ocean bottom upset in a cloud, swirling violently, all confused and dissipated and aimless. he asked them to lie still, but they refused. they always refused. Why did he always win the stupid chess game? he opened his eyes again and the bed was empty. Boy, Carl was really angry this time. he even took his bedding with him. "That was one heck of a punch though, that one the other day, hey Avi? broke two knuckles in your left hand. Quite a sandwhich." he winced when he remembered the pain. Carls cold steely face. and then he was gone. and Avi was alone. and the white specks swirled around and around and around and he kept telling them to settle down for goodness sakes. and He remembered carl's cold steely face. And the bolt on the bedroom door hung heavy.
by Janis =)
Janis' post-reading quiz questions:
hahaha
1. Who is Carl?
2. Where is Avi?
3. Why does Avi always win the chess games?
4. What does the sand cloud represent?
whoever gets all four questions right wins a trophy. or some bread pudding. which ever one happens to be in my house at that moment.
Pleasantries of a Lonely afternoon.
by Janis
so guess I'm just here by myself. that's too bad. I see no other writers. Well then, its time for some freezing-the-moment action:
I am sitting at my computer, big black monitor on a small black metal frame desk, homework on the shelf. I have the sniffles. my head is stuffy and my throat is soar and I feel kind like meg Ryan at the end of You've Got mail. "don't you think daisies...are the friendliest flowers?" I'm wearing a comfy grey hoody that clashes expertly with my long khaki skirt. My hair's in a pile, and there's a very nosy bird on my shoulder who keeps picking at my pooka necklace. I swear the stupid bird has like emotional needs or something cause from the minute I come home from school he starts freaking out in his cage like he's all anxious and lonely. So I put him on my shoulder and walk around with him and he's content. Its quite amusing. Today I put him my dresser so I could clean my room and he flies onto the stinkin floor, skitters over to my leg, climbs on my skirt and somehow makes his way to my shoulder. The muscular and daring cliff hanger expertise plus a few feathers. I pretty much witnessed a reanactment of vertical limit. Monologue. Starring Buddy the bird. Coming soon to a theatre near you. Its kind of endearing in a disgusting bird dander kind of way. Ryan Ross's guitar is sitting on the futton to my right. its missing a high E string. (I gotta get that back to him.) uh my homework is STILL sitting on the shelf above my head. darn it. Statistics homework. plus lots of reading. I'm going to skip the reading I think and go knit. I need some dayquil. that's all. "goodnight, dear void." -(you've got mail)
The most passionate reading occurs in a balance between consciousness and sub-consciousness. If the scale looses balance, either the words become separate and the sentences long, or the paragraphs merge and the lines become one. In this balance thick maple syrup lays on a warm stack of brown buttermilk pancakes and the pleasant fragrance of warm blueberry muffins baking in the oven.
---a--v--i---
wow!!! !!!!! hooray for Avi!!! that was incredible! my favorite so far...since when did you become so profound hahaha or was that a quote? lol
*Janis*
(by Janis)
"i AM THE great PROCRASTINATOOOR. i WILL save the world ...eventuallyyy"
-unknown
me and him both.
homework I could've finished
like three hundred years ago
(or at least last weekend...)
is still breathing down my neck at 11:30 PM. who the heck do I think I am, like the world owes me something, I think I don't have to work hard for my grades, like I can take the short cuts every time. I eat my cake and still expect the "paycheck" to keep rollin' in, and then i wonder why they turn my electricity off, even though I chucked the bills in the trash last week. if you think that in ignorance you don't pay, be sure that you certainly will pay--a more costly price then the one you so slyly tried to ignore. and don't eat when you're stressed either. it makes you fat. agghhh
8:34 PM
Janis Writing:
I am at a loss for original words..heres something not so recent but original nonetheless...
A philosophy on summer
"It is notable to observe how, come July 1st, all comings and goings and saying and doings and beings seem to leap to their feet upon summer's arrival and change seats. Nothing is really expected to follow straight or predictable and by the end of the confusion--and opening of a new school year--a new normalcy has managed to sneak up on everyone. I believe that is why summer exists; to sort of pad the blow of change on people like me who find change so utterly disasterous and unbearable. One must not wonder why, come fall, one is always a bit older, a bit wiser, and a little more nostalgic than one remembered allowing onesself to become."
A philosophy by The Burger King.(BK) lol
"I was thinking just recently as I was reading one of many articles along with remembering people I have come in contact with that say we as Christians should just love other people. They basically say that in order to change the world we need to love one another. While that idea is Biblical I think it is one of the dumbest things to say for one simple fact. We don't know what love is. Sure, we read about it, think we experience it, and tell people what it means to us, but for some reason I think we are missing what Christ meant when he said to love one another. Sure, read I Corinthians 13 all day long and begin to think that the understanding of love is on the tip of your brain, but what does that change anything? "Hate the sin and love the sinner." Is that even true? I was reading about abortion and how instead of standing up and saying that killing a baby is flat out wrong, maybe we need to love the mother first. That is great and sounds wonderful, but for some reason it seems to me that what we are saying is to overlook what they are doing wrong and just tell them that it is going to be alright and "love" them. Last I remember, discipline is a huge part of love. If love is not a feeling, which I am sure all of us would SAY that it is not, then the mind has to play a bigger role than it does. To say, "Just love on them" is a weak statement. Instead, to declare truth is better, which means that sometimes we must rebuke one another, discipline one another, show the path this is right to one another. Forget tollerance. What a horrible word. What tollerance means is backing off your values so that you won't hurt someone else's feelings. Well, sorry to tell you, but we are all in the same boat...we belong in hell. We all have some major problems and are going to burn for them, oh, except for one thing. Christ came to give us, no matter who you are, what sins you have committed, the ability to have life in heaven. When it comes time for me to stand on that Day, Christ is not going to say, "You were tollerant, man am I proud of you." No, he will want to know if I stood firm in the Word, no matter how many people hated me. If we were supposed to be in the business of getting people to like us, we would all be Bill Clinton. "The world will hate you as it has hated me." Christ loved, but told people at the same time to go and sin no more. Now, if God is love and Jesus is God and Jesus rebuked and disciplined, then that means that love rebukes and disciplines. Sure, love one another, but before we keep throwing that crappy line around, let's figure out what the heck love really is. Sure, "judge not" and all that jazz, but at least stand up for something."
Vivid childhood recollections
by Janis
The memories flooded back as I sat in the dark toy-filled room. The rocking chair was different, a bit more modern. It didn't really rock, but slid back and forth to the momentum of our shfting wieght, covered by a huge blue seat cushion that sunk underneath us. I was babysitting that evening and the poor kid had an ear ache. The little guy lay plastered to my chest, a tangled little mess of arms and legs trying to fit underneath an outgrown baby blanket. he whimpered and lay half asleep with his eyes squeezed tight shut. he held one ear in each sweaty little palm and plopped his head back and forth like a little Jacob in the Bible sleeping with a rock for a pillow. "owwww." and the flood came as I sat quiet: I remember the cold prescription drops that never quite made it into my ears, the sticky tears that dried in layers on the creases of my eyes. I remember the pain that made my head spin and I remember pounding my little feet against the wall, wailing for all the aching was worth. and my dad would come and try to soothe me, apologizing, blowing warm air into my ears. that was his little trick. and I would stop crying and he would let me go back to sleep, but it would come back terrible and ferocious and I remember wondering how there could be no solution. Did I really have to feel this pain? and there was no way out of it? no band-aide or gross pink medicine could stop it?none? the warm even breathing of a little kid all fed up with his day and completely surrendered to the subconscious tugged me toward sleep. I would wake up every other moment, remembering I was not home. so I continued with the memories. the rocking motion just like tonight, shuddering sobs of a concluded cry, my feet icy cold--trying to tuck them under the blanket covering the my dad, the chair, and I, nodding, nodding, sniffling, sobbing, nodding, nodding, and there in the rocking chair, my dad and I would both fall asleep, although we couldn't ever tell just when.
"I'm eating a bowl full of purple grapes"
(a list of significant Statements
by Janis)
1. tomorrow there is no school
2. Consuming almond chocolate bars for lunch is bad for you.
3. Life is tough at five o' clock on Monday mornings
4. O. Henry is one of my favorite authors
5. I'm wasting time
6. In the light of the moon, you can walk many miles. In a car, you can avoid walking altogether.
7. Hands are beautiful.
8. You're ridiculed for ignorance and charged for education. interesting.
9. gas prices. bahahahahaha
10. Deliver your heart with a dozen orange daisy and I'll put your application at the top of the pile.
11. If you want to read something better, WRITE SOMETHING BETTER!
12. conserve emotional energy: don't date in highschool.
13. these are starting to sound like really bad one liners.
14. they're not
15. they're not one liners, I mean.
16. they are pretty bad though.
17. I am going to run a marathon someday.
18. soon.
19. coming up to number twenty now.
20. "hawlkum weekum. yeeble! hoo." (good bye)
another philospophy by Janis
I don't know what it is exactly that I want to write, or why I am writing at all. Like I've got a bunch of unrelated observations, ponderings and such, all floating in my mind like little anxious kids looking for their parents in a gigantic supermarket.
guess I was thinking about my senior year. Not my senior school year, but my disallusioned, unsettled, identity crisis, faith clinging, kind of lonely senior year that's made me cry more times than I like to admit.
Its funny how inner struggles are so easily underlaiden. Like how on earth would anyone ever see this third dimension of my life. Not until it is communicated. People are so intricate..go ahead and try ponder all the things that comprise your soul. your life, your experiences, your influences, your reasoning, your secrets, your passions, your fears, everything spoken pitted against everything you yourself don't even understand, every rationalization and every motive, every weakeness, and every mental development... you just go ahead and try.. it'll make your head spin.
I think thats why I write--to stop my head from spinning. hoping I can hack perhaps even a tiny bit into this psyche so immensely dense and deep. Will I ever understand myself enough to present myself to the world? They stand waiting for my "visiting card." "and whom shall I say is calling, Madame?" uhhh, well, I'm not sure sure yet.. "Please madame, who calls? the world awaits and you have no name?" I, I , I need more time. I have many names. no, no, what I want to say is I have many sides, many dimmensions, and you want just one?
Janis Talks About the Weather. lol
I'd rather under promise and over deliver, rather play behind the scenes and make spectacular shadow puppets behind the curtains. I'd rather predict cloudy skies all weekend, when the sun maybe out half the time. That way no one could blame me for their rained out picnics.
I'd rather try out for JV and I'd rather not tell anyone I play well, cause what about the times when I don't? I'd rather let you choose the restaurant, even though I've got my opinion. I'm just not so sure my opinion is correct. And I'd rather not admit that I like someone, unless I know they like me too. and I'm terrified if they like me cause I fear they may find faults later that they hadn't seen before. I'd rather be persuaded than persuade, and I'd rather be insulted than insult. I'd rather play it safe than play the fool.
I fear disallusionment
and disappointment. I fear experiencing them but
mostly I fear being the cause of them. Its a scary thought being overconfident and over secure and being despised and shunned and rejected.
what a stifling life I could lead. In my mind, there's another me whose confidence makes her more beautiful and completely sure. She cuold care less if someone doesn't like her figure or her posture or her better judgment. she'd rather stick it to her fears and chase the unknown. Let her heart bleed and know at least that it is living, and watch while some of her sunny predictions do actually come out sunny. I guess it all depends on why you're "predicting the weather" at all. I mean, meterology isn't even a science anyways. How hard is it to remember that I'm not the only "weatherman" who isn't perfect? why am I talking about the weather you wonder? who cares what you wonder! ha! who cares! cause it makes sense to me and I know what I'm talking about. lol see. I'm coming around. lol
A life of second guessing is a life that does not go anywhere. It is always one step forward, turn around and look to see if it was correct, then a step back in the direction I just came because it doesn’t look as I thought it would or should. I doubt I can, so I know I won’t. I might try but fear I’ll never succeed. I've convinced myself that I have nothing to offer, so that is what I offer.
Who I want to be does not matter because I am too busy trying to map myself out now that my feet are frozen solid. Change is too difficult so why not just stay where I am. Who I am now I can’t figure out, but who cares, I can’t figure out who I am going to be.
But what I have figured is that life is full of questions and only sprinkled with answers. If I wait to know it all I may realize that the only thing worth knowing is that life requires movement. So I must move, I must change and in doing so move and change those around me. Life is too short to try to figure it all out before I go somewhere. I can second guess no longer and who I am will become apparent as I move.
Joseph
Janis speaking:
What a concept: "If I wait to know it all I may realize that the only thing worth knowing is that life requires movement. So I must move, I must change and in doing so move and change those around me." That was my favorite line lol very nice piece, Joseph.. i can relate!
... and the thread lengthens.. If this comment section ever reaches 100 posts I will dedicate the 101st post to John Bauersox.
By the Way: Anybody here enjoy O. Henry? know who he is at least? I adore O. Henry and I think everyone in the world should speak the way he writes... Love, Janis
I’ve had my doubts, too many to count. Whether or not God exists, or even if He does if he created all of this, or cared enough to spend time creating me. And it is foolishness to think that even if he exists and did create the trees, the air, the water…and me, that he would love me, love me enough to send His Son to die for me. It’s foolishness. I have had my doubts, I have had my questions. How does it all work? So I accept him, then live for him, and talk to him? But in the glimpses that God has let me see of him, in the moments that I have experienced him in an undeniably real way, it is easy to know that He is bigger than all of my doubts, all of my questions. And the sad thing that I realize is that all of my doubts and questions do not change who God is or what He has done. God’s existence or power or perfection does not teeter on my belief or lack there of. He simply is. And He simply will be forever.
Joseph
how you put that into words I do not know. If I were someone important I'd award you with some pulitzer prize or something.. lol well, as I am the queen of understatements, I would say that the previous was a super great bunch of words...
Tonight I witnessed a heart being broken. It was one of closest friends and it was the celebration of the day he was born. We all were together. The inner circle he calls us. He's in love with this girl who came from far away lands, where the bitterness of winter seems to strike with no mercy at all.
I love you dear, he said to her. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, I heard him say as he took her gentle face between his lovely hands and looked into her light eyes.
She made this reunion happen. She loves him back. She says she loves to be with him. She knows he knows her heart belongs to someone else.
The night went by. The laughter and the memories arouse. They were not sitting together tonight. Unusual picture of that which we were all used to. Something was up.
One week before this he had a glimpse of heaven. He kissed her graceful lips with more passion and intensity than anything he has ever lived before. She kissed him back we know. Things are changing she says.
She goes to him that she owes her devotion, and tells him that she feels not the same way anymore. They are living together now, and if this ever breaks she will become a homeless nightingale.
I will never see the sky the same way my friend said to me that night. I have met the ruler of my dreams and she's closer than ever before. It's only a matter of time.
Tonight he gave her a red rose. He loved her with passion but something was up.
I didn't notice when it happened, but at some point it did. He called me in private and said to me that she wasn't changing anything. That she was staying with her man.
His eyes were swollen and red, with tears behind his eyes. I did not know what to say.
She was about to leave. Her man was there to pick her up. She said farewell to everyone in the room, leaving that red rose behind her, as the night died the same way his heart died some more.
My best friend's heart was broken tonight. He sat alone outside thinking, wondering, watching the sky one more time, knowing he still loves her anyway.
I hate, I hate, I hate writing up stuff for college applications. Especially when its like community service, or what you did, and how you lead in high school. I feel cheap and the stuff I write down, I feel like its cheap for being used. like when you look at it on paper its so small. But in reality its gigantic. and then again, on paper it seems like you're so gigantic for it, but in reality you were just glad to be a part of it. But it'll get you to college right? thats all that matter isn't it. The mystery is lost, the memory a little dimmer, but you submitted all you're paper work right? excellent. Now if you'll just record this serial number in a safe place and that'll be....
There are sirens wailing right now, and I wonder if they are heading towards that area. I had heard of this area before, and of its infamy but today I heard from a resident, and this time I listened and felt instead of just hearing. It's about 2 miles outside of the small campus we students call home. It's even closer to the ritsy City Place, and probably has a great view of the towering Trump Plaza. This is the street Safety and Security told us never to go down, even if you aren't by yourself, and even if it's broad daylight.
This man described a community where poverty, violence, and drugs are rampant. An area that had seen 14 murders in a two month period, and where 1 out of ever 2 girls is sexually assaulted. And I realized that this isn't just a place to be avoided, and left to is own destruction. This is a place that needs to be in my thoughts and in my prayers. These are people! People in need of help who are living in darkness, and who are dying physically, spiritually, and emotionally!
He told us how he was living in this neighborhood in order to reach these people. It was amazing to hear the conditions he and his family are living in because of their love for Christ, and compassion for these people. He told us of the youth group they have every Thursday with over 90 young people, and only 4 adults.
I wanted the voices of these people to be heard. I wanted everyone on the outside to stop leaving it up to the government to try to clean up the messes, and to start doing the cleaning themselves, by reaching out. What about my own community? We are young and energetic individuals with so many gifts, abilities, and TIME! (though we deny it), what are we doing? We could give them 400 volunteers instead of 4!
How did I forget that there was a world outside my campus, and people down that dangerous street?
I could hear those voices calling out, in fact I listened to them, and my heart answered. I told them I'd give of my time, and of myself. And if not asked or meant to serve in that way, I promised I would start reaching them through prayer. I wouldn't ignore them or avoid letting them into my thoughts, or sugar coat their suffering. I'd let them in, and in doing so, let in my Savior.
convicting thoughts. Thank you for your inspiring input!
-Janis
I admit that I'm scared of college. I have lived so long in my home that I don't know what I'll do when I leave it. I've never had to live on my own. Will any of my current friends go there? Will I know anyone? How will I survive? What will I do? What a waste of time that life management course was. I don't feel any more prepared for my life now then before I took the course. I don't want to give up my current life style. I don't want to give up my friends. When will I see them? These thought become confusing. No one else seems to be having trouble. They apply. I can't. I'm stuck. Monkey in the middle. Lost in Translation. Less then a year remains until the change. These days seem to be going faster when all I want is to hold on to them.
--a--v--i--
Stupidity will be humanity's downfall.
--a--v--i--
I hear you, Avi! we are of the same thought I believe, the question forever being, "who the heck keeps moving my cheese for goodness sakes?" I love the expression you used of being "lost in translation" and could almost parcel it out to two concepts: The idea of struggling against the inevitable currents of change AND... the frustration of having your identity watered-down with each application and each brown-nosing session, the worth of your name being systematically reduced to a rank, a club, a nationally recognized organization of influence points and balony! I feel that catch 22 singing a tune again. don't want to be the same but don't want to be different. don't want to change but don't want to get stuck! How terrible, how wonderful, how ironic!
Tall Raspberry white Mocha. man, It's a good day. On this momentus day I actually ordered successfully at Stupidbucks..I mean starbucks. A few fumbles here and there with the sizes (I asked for a small and was immediately pounced upon.."you mean tall right?")..a little discrepancy with the pick-up too(I struggled for about two embarrassing seconds trying to hold our three orders until the merciful emlpoyee suggested a carrying carton) but the decision was made. and it wasn't bad. and I learned for the first time, from my right-hand cousin Raquel that nothing good at starbucks is ever on the menu. Stupid menu. its like a freakin' practical joke or something. to seperate the regulars from the newbies. or actually, to seperate Janis from everone else. well, take that, starbucks! Now I know a little somethin' somethin' about your evil schemes and next day I come its crazy time. I'm gonna put syrup in everything and order crushed ice with sugar and lemon and maybe I'll even request a caramel latte with EXTRA WHIPPED CREAM!!!!. so there!
Janis your amazing...and hilarious!
atothevtothei
my tree
"Who will speak for the trees?" said doctor suess.
Who? and I wonder the same. Who will speak for my Christmas tree, waiting to be ornamented. Waiting to be trimmed by tiny hands with a steak knife. waiting to interrupt an evening with dear traditions and memories and the melodies of the world's cheesiest Christmas cassette tapes. who? I could barely breathe and I was suppose to decorate? I couldn't distinguish the tangled ornaments through my tears...The little mice on the ski lift wound tightly to the iceskating blue jay and I cried some more. And I cried while I tied on a red bow to a low branch. and another red bow. and another. Until I realized all the red bows were clumped together and they looked more like my reddened face then the velvetty master piece I always made them each year. the tears flowed with each memory and I hated life for its indiscriminate tide.
Leave the child alone to grow up and pity and guilt and remain a child only let her grow up enough to want but to want more to stay.
they left the child.
"leave the tree," my mom said.
"Leave the tree until they come home from school...the lights and thats all...put all the ornaments away. we'll make s'mores then and-- remember when you were three and you cut branches with that steak knife? yeah we'll decorate the tree and make s'mores then." we hadn't really let ourselves feel Christmas until that night. it's good to grieve. Bye bye fleeting season of life.
I hate midnight hunger. It's so bad because you are in a point where you are too hungry to sleep and you know you can't eat much cause then you will be too full to sleep.. and then, in eating, a new problem arises, you have to brush your teeth again, and touching water tipically scares your sleep away... so your back to the dilemma.. what should I do...
There's where I realize that maybe the whole eating times system is wrong. Usually we eat around 6 or 7... a decent, nice, round dinner. Our body digests it usually in 4 to 6 hours, depending on the amount and the kind of food you ate... meat is slower than vegetables for instance.
So, eating around 6 or 7, forces us to go to bed around 11 at the most so that we don't have to fight the midnight hunger. But then, hours seem so short when one is doing something he loves, that midnight comes to you and you don't even feel time passing by so fast. It was Romeo that said to Mercutio that hours seem so long when you are not having that, which in having, makes them short, referring to be out.. of love.
Oh drama... yet again you treason me with your subtle romance. I start with hunger and I finish with the tragedy of the two lovers of Verona.
Oh me.
hey israel: sign your name next time. I know that was you. lol great last line!! amazing for lack of a better word..lol
Janis
I would've if I had remembered my password then. I remember now, and I got my identity back. If only life was that simple!
writing in the new year.
2006 is less than 30 minutes away. the world will be a year older. History will be one year farther from our memory. VHS tapes will be a little more obsolete and the furture clicks by slowly like the climatic climb to the drop off of a rollercoaster... Graduation, college, decisions, 18th birthdays, another summer. its all way too sureal...I always dreamed about this year in particular as MY year. and now its knocking on my door and my heart skips anxiously as I wonder: am I ready to let it in just yet? heck yeah. lets go 2006. Bring it.. whatever it might be. More singleness? a little discomfort? a little adventure. Learning experience? Lets go 2006 cause I got this. Firecrackers are exploding around my neighborhood. someone forgot to remind the neighbors that its not the 4th of July just yet. time goes crazy fast BUT NOT THAT FAST.. ten minutes to go. Thank you God that though time may run me through with change, you remain and always will remain faithful and constant! May this year be one in which I hold you as my first love! amen.
previous by Janis
TONIGHT'S RIDE HOME AND THE WHITE GUY WHO COULD RAP
Ok. So I got a ride home with two guys tonight. One was a guy from Rumania. Very neat guy. The other one was an american I suppose, and I played pool with him for a bit. He beat me out of luck. He was really bad in fact. He pocket the 9 ball and that was it.
On our way home they were talking about stuff and some really random stuff, which I enjoyed very much, since I could easily relate to the randomness.
By Linton exit this lucky guy starts talking about music and how he recorded some rap songs. I am not even sure of how we got into that, but next thing I know he is rapping all the way home songs about Jesus, extasis, Satan, gangsters and the majesty of the Son of God. Perhaps I would've enjoyed the experience a whole lot more if I could understand really fast english.
Later it was improv. He had to rap 15 or 20 seconds with something that made sense after we hand shake him and introduce ourselves. Hi my name is Israel, blah blah blah.
It was an awesome experience. It was the merriest ride home of my life I am sure. This guy talks about how he has given concerts to youth and stuff and how he has been offered contracts by secular producers but he doesn't want to be like Will Smith. He comes from the world and he is not willing to go back.
So this white guy who could rap has made an impact in my life. Otherwise, I wouldn't be spending 7 minutes of my life writing about some, for starters, GUY, who I just met. One would expect that I would write about some girl who I just met, but see how things turn out.
SINGLENESS
I was in a singles meeting last saturday. Turns out my job involves this ministry. They divide them in two groups. Those above 35 and those under 35. The topic is the same for both but I couldn't help to think how 35 is that scary line no one wants to cross being single. I would draw the line even before, but anyway. In the 35+ group you can tell there's a lot of broken hearts. Never married who might have lost all of hope of finding love; those treasoned by a beloved one, and some who have endured the tedious process of a split. It's hurting to think of those who lost their loved ones by the hands of death.
It's an intesting mix of feelings this one. On one hand, I want to see the positive sid... wait... I mean... the funny side of things. On the other hand, last time I checked I still had a heart and I wish people didn't have to suffer this kinds of things.
I think of how we often think that finding a mate is not everything in life. Those feminist groups that reject both genres and demand equal rights and benefits for everyone (cough..cough..) dare to say marriage is the paramount of male domination and as such it should be crushed. I agree that marrying does not necessarily solves your life, but it does make the solving a whole lot more endurable. We need to be loved. We need to give love. I don't know in what order. What I do know is that the order of things is that is not good for us to be alone, which is why the Greatest Artist concluded his master piece with the crowning of all living things. Women
Myself? I've never been married. I've never been engaged or even close to that. I am only 20 soon to be legal here and everywhere. While I listened to the speaker talk to the singles I had one of those enlightening moments where you stop paying attention and all the voices start fading and you start staring at an inexistent blank spot in space.
I realized that I am single. Let me make myself clearer. A year ago I wasn't single, I was 19. You see my point? I am wondering at what point you stop being... you know... a teenager. A guy/girl who dates.. or not...around, knowing it won't last. Knowing that the chances for it to evolve into marriage are minimal and that sole fact should make us get over ourselves and not take things so seriously. I don't know how you call that, but is definitely not single. Kid dater. Researcher of the flip genre. Pursuer of the hopeless cause. I don't know.
I guess my conclusion is that you start being single the moment you start thinking on who you are gonna ask out the first time or with who you are gonna get out of the friend zone and make your move already, not basing the decision on how hot, popular or the 'she makes me feel goosebumps', rather on could I spend the rest of my life with her? Do I see any future with her? Is she smart..er than me? Does she make me laugh? Do I make her laugh? What if I ever see her cry? Do I want to raise kids with her? Can she have kids? Would she adopt? Is she a carnivore? Is she able to watch football with me and not whine about it? Will she challenge me every day? Would she make me do things I never dared to imagine I'd do?
When you are 19, 16, 17 tipically you don't ask yourselves these quesiton. Maybe not even when you are 30.
Anyway. Bottom line is that I am single. Maybe I've been single longer than I've noticed. Maybe I've asked myself these questions and I was never brave enough to face the truth that the reason why I never wanted things to work out was because I knew from start that it wouldn't, yet I just had to date. Did I?
I hate it when you have to leave details out, but for the sake of this blog, and of course you who faithfully joined me all the way through this lines, I shall stop.
(Janis Speaking)
clever clever clever.
By Janis
its late. I'm tired. I'm writing. silly me. Tomorrow I will drink-- forbidden in earnest but for the morn's assuredly and especially unique weariness--coffee. Another sigh betakes me. I say that it betakes me because I have not betaken to recieve it at any point, but only that it overwhelms and decides itself on my behalf. It's late. I'm tired. I'm writing. Silly me. Now what to write? Who to inform? How to waste my time most wisely? (haha)
I shall tell the world of my new friends. My silent, subtle, breath-taking little dependents, known by most as flowers. They're so pretty. Like the rest you say, surely; and yet with an extra pride like that of the partial mother viciously snapping photographs at her son's piano recital, I boast of my own with a vigor that they are unlike any other. Singular in all color and all energy and all cheer, they grow in my bright sunshine and gleam at my refreshing impartments of water. What sets them apart then to me is that they have flourished at my hand, and responded so readily to my attentions with nothing less then their glorious finery. I tend to them, they wave to me their petals for a smile, and I love them. Like my God loves me and yet I struggle so to will in his sunny grace even one tiny morsel of beauty. Of chastity. Of confidence and gratitude. For I am grateful. Thank you Lord for your sunshine and your drink. oh that you might smile on my opened heart before you.
I CAN'T SLEEP
God has given me an enormous privilege of getting to know Him. He has given me Jesus to embrace His sacrifice so that I could be free. Immeasurable love that I can hardly bare to grasp.
I’ve been in worship ministry for a while. I realize that as a member of a worship team I have even a bigger privilege in the kingdom of God. My responsibility when I am up on the stage is to clear the crowd of all insecurities, fears and boundaries, so that the presence of God can move among the moment and He can minister. My job is to clear that stage I am using, so that my music moves in harmony, and he takes over the stage.
This ministry is perhaps the hardest one. Or at the very least, one of a kind. Think about it. Maybe it’s the fact that this is supposed to be a team. Teams are hard to form. I must be strong as a team, as well as strong as individuals. I have to know how to reach God as a minister, but also be able to find Him on my own. My thirst for his presence should be unquenchable, and my passion to see people’s lives transformed by the presence of God should be my trademark.
And so, with great power and privileges comes great responsibility. I cannot allow myself to be known as a musician. I cannot be known as a singer, bassist, drummer or guitarist. I am to be known as a worshipper.
God is very specific as to who will see his face in worship. Only those who have clean hands and a pure heart will ascend the hill of the Lord and see Him. The reason why I am in this ministry is not because I can play an instrument; musicians are many. I am in this ministry because God has ignited what first began as a passion for music and if I remain faithful to this, and use it well, I will discover that music was only the beginning, the key to the highest place where I find God in adoration.
It is true that music is not the only way to worship God. That I am to worship Him with my life, my tithes, and my deeds. That I should present myself as a living sacrifice as my act of worship. I couldn’t agree more. What I am talking about is about calling upon the name of the Lord through music, as the Bible teaches me, and adore in his presence.
God created music to worship Him. God wants to use music for the worship of His Holy name. God inspired in me that need to play an instrument or sing in tune since before I was born. He designed me with this talent so that I can use it for His praise. There are many untalented people out there. Many that pay thousands of dollars to learn how to sing, how to play an instrument and they never make it. Yet, most of more talented worshippers I know are self-taught because they were designed to be musicians. Designed to be worshippers. Designed to know the heart of God.
A THOUGHT ON BEAUTY
I loved the previous post this night for it speaks of a kind of beauty. It's witty, as usual, full of heart, passionate and ends with the stroke that only a true artist can give.
I think about beauty and I think how it is so subjective. Nothing new here of course. Flowers, sunsets, a mother nurturing her son, Brainest new brilliant plan to conquer the world, the answer to the most complex equation, my 3 year old son's picture of me, and my bulldog's mounstrous face. Beauty is everywhere. I even remember a movie called American Beauty where this guy finds beauty in a plastic bag being swayed by the wind on a street. He records the spectacle for 6 minutes and that's his concept of beauty. Very well.
Myself, I will reserve the potential lenght this elucubration to a different set, for in long, I know writing calls me.
I have been thinking about beauty nonetheless. How God is perfect and all he created is perfect. For us, anything that is beautiful is perfect for us, and if God says something He created is perfect, then it is beautiful.
Maybe beauty is a blessing. At times it's exactly a curse. We can live our lives pursuing that which fills our souls, which we find beautiful, and it will only lead us to damnation.
She will only break your heart, and still you will love her. Mrs Havisham's wise words to Pip. She was right. Beautiness hooks us. Like a spell cast upon us, it haunts our existence until the very end.
This has to end. Whenever you try to dig dip into the mysteries of Creation, one can spend hours and you will never end.
I.
Dear Valentine, come away with me. If I had a day with you and you only, I would enjoy the simple things. The things that bring joy to the drudgery and the mundane, the things that, in the end, when time steals the rest away, are the only things we'll remember. I would paddle you across a still lake in a rowboat and read poetry to you until you fell asleep, and I would never ever think about the hours.
Dear Valentine, if I had one day with you and you only, I would admire every line of your face, every strand of your hair, every graceful movement of your hands or your eyes or your body. If I had one perfect day. Don't you see, my heart beats only for you?
Dear Valentine, these are the things I remember, my love... A warm hand, your warm breath, your warm mouth, your arms around mine. I remember feeling safe, ceaseless, like one person, the two of us, still, at rest, entwined. I remember how I felt the first time I kissed you. It felt like... the high dive. What do you remember? How will I ever know what was inside your heart? Where do they go, all the things we think and feel but don't say?
Dear Valentine, these are the things I never told you, these are the things I need you to know... that I loved you always, and my love was so big, it lives still after you're gone. I'd like to tell you that I would do it differently, that if I had one more day I would do everything right. But I know that not to be true. I'd make all the same mistakes. That is, except one... I wouldn't say good-bye.
poor valentine. so sad. but great writing!!! =)
Do I love you? Don't ask me twice. Ask me better if my love is enough, or my sacrifice matches the size of what you deserve. But don't ask me if I love you, because you know I do.
Like a Child
I am in a garden. The masses that curl about my feet and bound along the bordered walks strike out in brilliant blends of violet, orange, and magenta. Green leaves and tendrils sweetly sooth their cries. I am walking along the slate stones. They widen between for a passing root, and soon my strides become too small. I leap a little to reach the far step across the distance. then i continue, in a sort of hop scotch--stone to stone to stone--stopping just before the path cuts out for more hedges. Bluish in autumn chill, the trees strewn about the flowerbeds are tantilizing. Having conquered the stone path, I retreat to the haven of some shady branches. My hands wrap easily around a low bow, and my body eases from the ground in a graceful suspension, knees bent slightly, weight and burden released to poised arms in need of a good stretch. I breathe a sigh in falling pitch--I have left the earth for a brief moment. My legs swing back and forth, towards and away from the ashbrown bark until the soles of my feet catch and hold to the split in the trunk. I climb up as high and as fast as I am able, engaging every muscle, catching every node and ledge to hold me higher. and then I settle in a nook called "far enough" and fall asleep under a blanket of breezes.
God is in the details. God is in the empty and the full, the dark and the pit. I know God is true and His love is great. I know He knows me and we have quite a history together. Is he there when I sin? I know he is. Is he there when I succeed, yes, and he smiles with me. Is he there when I screw up and hurt people on purpose or even unintentionally, I know he is. Does he put my heart to test and expect integrity as a response? Yes. Do I think of him as a sadist who has fun juggling with my emotions? Not at all. In fact, what comes to my mind when I fail, because I fail, is more like a 'hehe.. you got me there huh!'. I think the balance between fearing God and having Him as your friend is very clear. See, He is definitely not safe, in CS Lewis' words, but He is good. I fear Him because I am insignificance before His greatness, and I fear Him because He cares nonetheless. But He is also my friend because He understands me and knows my heart,and loves me just the same. Some weeks ago I disappointed one of the people I respect the most in the world. She's been my mentor and I let her down. What she did is exactly what God did. She forgave me, told me the consequences of what happened, told me everything would be ok anyways, told me she believed in me for she knew my heart, and we moved on.
See, God is scary and definitely not safe. He is at the same time all loving and awesome. He's my dad, my king and hero.
I found this excerpt describing God and it's a warm feeling to read it:
He came from the throne of the Father to the womb of a woman. He put on humanity that we might put on divinity. He became Son of Man that we might become sons of God. He was born in a supernatural way, lived in poverty and was reared in obscurity. He had neither wealth nor influence, yet the wisdom of men has never matched His wisdom. Never has a man spoken like this man. His family was inconspicuous and uninfluential. In infancy He startled a king. As a
boy, He stunned theologians with His knowledge and wisdom for He was taught of God. In manhood, He ruled the elements and quieted the raging sea. He healed the multitudes without medicine. And fed thousands from a boy’s lunch.
Even demons obeyed Him and He gave back life to those who died. He never wrote a book, yet none of the libraries of the world can contain the books that have been written about Him. He never wrote a song, yet He has furnished the theme of more songs than all song writers combined. He never founded a college, yet all the colleges together cannot boast of as many students as He has.
He never marshaled an army, yet no leader has ever had more volunteers. Great men have come and gone yet He lives all. Herod could not kill Him. Satan could not tempt Him to sin. Death could not destroy Him. The grave could not hold Him. He laid aside His purple robe for a peasant’s gown. He was rich yet for our sakes He became poor. He slept in another’s manger. He rode on another’s donkey. He was buried in another’s grave. He conquered death and rose on the third day as He said He would. He ascended into heaven and is now at the right hand of the throne of God. One day He will return with power and great glory to
judge the world when every knee shall bow to Him and every tongue shall confess Him as Lord. His friends gladly. But enemies seeking for a place to hide from His face. He is the perfect one. The only one who can satisfy the soul. He
gives everlasting life to those who love Him. He is altogether lovely. But best of all, He is my Savior.
It's good to have Him on my side, and everyday becomes about being on His.
Ask most people about their favorite movie, and they can usually recite the last line to you, or at least remember exactly how the end goes. But hardly anyone ever remembers a movie's first line, how it all starts, where the fun truly begins.
last line of you've got mail: "don't cry...shop girl."
first line:....?
This is a better day. I finally got the document that opens door. When I looked at it the first time I opened the envelope my first impression, I swear, was 'this is it? this was the whole problem?'
My seocnd immediate thought was 'God is funny, in a weird, awesomely disturbing, yet fantastic and awestrucking way'
See, my patience was finally dying. It was finally getting me. I thought everything was lost and that all this time had been wasted, I don't know. But then comes God.
I say it's weird and disturbing because it seems that everything is a test. I've always liked to believe in it only as a stubborn way to justify my motives, but every time I am surprised to find that it seems to be true.
All I know is that I owe this day to God, who is awesome, disturbingly good and awesomely mysterious.
hurray for miracles and social security numbers =)
oxygen
it scared me to death and scares me to think about it now. I felt completely alone and all of a sudden the world had become too big to notice.
now to give you my opinion on what I've just written: I think it sounds sappy. I think it's ridiculously cliché. I think I stole the lines from some unwritten script, lines meant for an overdramatic actress with extravagantly blond flowing hair and immaculate features who gets paid my parents' yearly salaries in an hour. But oddly, I only care enough to insert this disclaimer against those critical rationalists like myself. and then unabashedly continue.
If you've ever played dodgeball you may recall the feeling. someone lobs a big red nerf and you get it in the gut like a freight train. you can't breathe, you can't see clearly, and you can't stand up straight so you level with the ground and tear up a little, hoping you won't cry.
The breath is knotted up in your lungs, and, eyes wide in shock, you panick at the suprising lack of oxygen. All you want to know is who to blame, and when on earth will the people stop spinning. But its just part of being a kid playing dodgeball. You can't do anything but pray the air will come back into your lungs.
I realize that companionship is like oxygen. The moment you find or fear that you've found yourself with out it, the terror you experience is paralyzing. Loneliness came bitterly last night, made me unable to breath, so I leveled to the ground and teared a little, only i couldn't do much else but cry. I pannicked and blamed and then I remembered the rythm of my "breath"-God in his consistancy, in his faithfulness, in his patience was informing me that I had again wandered to false atmospheres-graven images, idols in the form of imperfect human beings. I put my hope in what was hopeless, and got the wind knocked out of me in the process. The reminder was a difficult one, an uncomfortable blow to the gut, but I do breathe easier.
I tried poetry once. Didn't work. I've grown amazed of those few verses that stick to your mind like a good song or some famous last words. I realize that writing a verse is a lot of creativity and art, and maybe that is why my dominant creative side wanted to conquer this unknown craft, not knowing of course, that only a few chosen are able to understand the deep complexities of beauty, and explain it in seven words per line.
I see that I can't do that to myself. Everytime I try to make something short, to tell a story in 2 minutes or leave details behind, as dramatic as it sounds, not that it's unusual, it's like I'm denying this part of me that craves to tell the truth and all of it.
How can I tell how my life has changed in 3 minutes? I would have to tell you how my life was so you can understand how different it is. Then I would tell you what triggered the change, and then how it evolved into what it looks like now. Good luck with that.
See, I find it unfair to rush things. I find it very pretentious that we expect people like me, prisoners of their own nature, to leave things out.
To bring this even to a farther dimension, I can tell you it makes me sick when we need to leave the oddities of our own out. It's like that first cup of coffee, 'Hi, my name is me, nice to meet you' and so the small talk begins. Instead, I wonder what if it went something like this: 'Hi, I'm me, at first sight you strike me like a very boring person, but you have beautiful eyes. I could be wrong. I hope I am. I don't know if I am glad to meet you, but here we go. I hope you realize that the first thing I see of you is how you look, not who you are, and until then, until you share of who you are, I can only know about your looks. However, I long to go deeper than what never lasts'.
Maybe it's an unecessary thought this last one, maybe a silly one, but until we all stop having faces, I guess I'll keep looking for the one that won't freak out about my talk, and instead laugh, respond naturally, just like if she had been expecting that introduction for all her life, and then we would know that we have something in common, worth fighting for, and we would be truly glad to meet each other.
This is the weirdest thing I have ever written, and I am disturbingly well pleased about it.
surprisingly one of my havoc-favorites! I'm being completely serious... that was great hahaha
Sometimes all we need is someone to tell us what to do, even when at heart we've known the right thing to do forever.
I have a friend. She is fantastic. Smart, funny, talented, beautiful and passionate. I know it's easy to describe someone by highlighting the good things, but just like me and everyone else, she has a dark side. A dark place that very few get to see.
'She'll let you into parts of herself that will bring you down'
She longs for that love that will shun all her fears. She's been waiting for it since she can remember. She's been empty for years looking in all the wrong places knowing there's more, but for some reason not wanting to go to the right place, for even there she finds nothing but emptiness, masks and brokenness.
Tonight her heart is broken, and nothing looks right. She says she doesn't know what happened, confused and alone she wonders the outcome, trying to keep herself busy, struggling not to think about this pain that remains nonetheless, and all I can do is listen, tell her wht she knows, and only feel sad about how sad life can be when the fire is on you.
I know she sees the right things, and knows the right from wrong, but it's just hard. I understand her because I am just like her all the time. How can I judge her or pretend I am stronger when in reality we are both equally weak.
I thought I could relate to her for a lifetime, but in truth, she is 'just a friend', nothing more, never less.
Everytime it;s your birthday, if you care at least a little bit about existence or have ever made yourself any question about life, you can't help it but to make at least some sort of reflexion about where you are, who you are and where you are going. Sometimes it's nothing but happy thoughts of hope and memories, others have been an unpleasant feeling of having wasted a whole season, and sometimes it's nothing but doubt, confusion and unanswered questions.
Truth is, for me, it's a little bit of all. See, I've been turning my life quite dramatically in the past years. Who I was and where I was going is nothing to where I am right now. Then again, maybe I was supposed to be here all the time.
All I know is that I don't know who I am. I know what drives me, and the things and people I love, that is easy, but in truth, I can only tell you what I do and why I do it. I can't tell you where I'm going for I don't really know.
In the end, I know I want this year to be different than anything else, and I'm not very good with long term purposes. I like to see results quickly. A year is not fast enough for me.
So in conclusion, finishing this nonsense, I still want things my way, and I like to be right. I like my coffee in the morning, strong but not too strong, a good toasted bagel with it, and rice for dinner. A good talk with a smart person, a heart-melting look to your eyes and the melodies of heaven that only few chosen can play. I want to feel the excitement of a first goal and and the glory of the first kiss. I want all I want and nothing less, but more than anything, I want to be closer to be the man I can be and some few close ones know exists. For all of them I push as hard as I do, and more than anything, even when I am dumb and lazy and unfaithful all the time, I believe in God, who laughs with me and grieves when I fall, who more than anyone sees me and believes in me. There's this line in a movie I love (I watch lots of movies, I learn a lot from them). Count of Montecristo. This guy is on a mission. Very tough mission, and this guy tells him: 'may God be with you'. 'I don't believe in God, he said', and the answer was 'it doesn't matter, He believes in You'.
Those words have been in my head for months now and are a heavy thing to handle.
Anyhow, I could keep on writing, but I have a book to do that.
A heart is a fragile thing. That's why we protect them so vigorously, give them away so rarely, and why it means so much when we do. Some hearts are more fragile than others. Purer, somehow. Like crystal in a world of glass, even the way they shatter is beautiful.
"...even the way they shatter is beautiful."
would you STOP coming up with these amazing one-liners
Music they say is a reflection of the soul. When we look at secular music it saddens me that most music seems sad sometimes even hateful. I don't believe God intended all music to be happy but I find it interesting that most music even a lot of christian music sounds somewhat sad. Yet if you look at christain songs that are happy they seem cheezy(ex. I Am Free, All Day)
In Response
Most great works of art are borne of great emotion. for a pessimistic race such as our own, those of the negative sort seem to be the most handy, the most moving, and, sadly, the most inspiring. if you look at certain passages in the Bible you'll see that GOd is fully aware of this bend in humanity toward self-pity. he writes through Paul, "rejoice in the Lord always! I will say it again: rejoice!" notice that he uses it as a command, indicating that being joyful is something we must CHOOSE rather than feel. being hopeful and embracing joy in difficult (and not so difficult situations) is HARD FOR US. it requires a certain unnatural effort, a special determination. Most things which require that kind of hard work are rarely achieved and more often cheaply copied instead. the man who finds a theif has stolen the jewels before--I testify to my own prosecution.
I dare not say that using negative emotions as a runway for artwork is terrible or wrong. On the contrary it is indeed very handy and readily presents itself with much color. But the seasoned artist, or the one who is most determined to discover art in its uniqueness will seek the more difficult task of portraying beauty through a positive motivation. (those cheesy songs you notice are the ones who have tried and failed. again, the greatess works if art are not easily come by.
Just some thoughts upon what a christian is:
He is a light surrounded by darkness.
A flower among thorns.
A child among corpses.
A rock among sand.
A 50 meter runner among warthogs and hares.
A servant among those enslaved.
A slave to rightousness among those enslaved by sin.
A sower against all elements.
These are just some things that I think capture a little bit of what a christian should be. However to atain such states require the grace of God and strenth that can only be from the Holy Spirit. Im definitely not quite there.
May God bless you
I really like the "child among corpses line" thats a cool image right there
Like I mentioned in an alternate website, I am now committed to keep a blog updated. That doesn't mean I will quit this blog, but I realize I can be very long in my writing, and the least I want is to flood this place with my stuff.
My style is sometimes tougher I guess. Much more critical. I can be artsy and all that, but there's this things inside of me that shows me how things are simply messed up at times, and I crave to write aobut it.
So, bottom line, http://thehavoc.blogspot.com
Next, a brand new piece for this blog.
Last night I saw amazed how life is beautiful. I realized how sometimes creations, hopes and beauty can be destroyed in an instant, and how long it takes to rebuild them.
However last night I saw a miracle.
I have a brother and my relationship with him hasn't been easy lately. I took some decisions that he didn't agree on and hurt him in the process.
Last night, after some months of being mad or weird at each other, I chose to take a step and talk to him.
We talked for maybe 7 minutes and all the problems of 12 or so months were fixed.
At that moment life was beautiful, worth living.
My brother and I are now back where we should've always been. Allied and strong and I am glad it is finally like this.
I am only worried that we are missing out. It worries me that God is out there waiting for us to react and he is there just tapping his finger down hoping that we could only believe Him. It's not that knowledge is wrong, of course it's right, but to limit ourselves is just not right.
More on thehavoc.blogspot.com
I know sometimes... all times, the way I write look exactly like the type of person who is mad at everyonje and that sees nothing good in life. Or perhaps, I've realized, you notice how I can be so harsh and cruel with my statements, and I wish I could tell you I am sorry, but I'm really not.
However, tonight, something happened. Something I missed because it's been a while since this happened.
I have a friend back in Mexico. I can't really call her a friend anymore because we hardly ever taljk to each other and there are no common grounds between us anymore. Actually we know each other because we dated. Nonetheless, she is a great person. She is one of those dreamers. One of those people that believes in good, love and hope. The only time I have seen her sad is when she learned her parents were about to get divorced.
So tonight, browsing through her online profile I found the pictures she has. She divides them in 4 categories. In my heart, him and me, Beauty and other things and B&W. Each of the pictures show every single person that she loves. Every quote that has touched her life, and because I know her, that she drives her life for.
You could make that case that she is only showing what is happy in her, that there is another side that is not happy and all that, and it's true, but that is exactly the point.
She dreams and hopes and wonders. She writes songs on napkins for her future beloved even when she can't sing or play an instrument. Paints pictures that she never has exposed in a gallery, and loves an idea so pure that maybe she will never see.
As I looked through her pictures she made me think. Not on what we had or anything like that, but made me realize how sometimes I forget what is pure. That sometimes I think over things too much and that sucks my light sometimes.
I realize I, we, live in a world were the only things that matter are those that are eternal. I realize God exists like more than the brightest star in heaven, but also like the song I've never written or the dance she never got to dance. God lives in the dreams I am about to dream and that he inspires, and He lives in the essence of the family that I will raise but still doesn't exist.
See... God is so pure and real and beautiful that sometimes the concept seems to unbelievable that sometimes I prefer not to believe it. You know what I mean?
Maybe, just maybe, someday I will live everyday with one thought in my head. That my life belongs to God and the inevitable consequence of this should be to live in beauty, hope, faith and love.
All of our young lives we search for someone to love. Someone that makes us complete. We choose partners and change partners. We dance to a song of heartbreak and hope. All the while wondering if somewhere, somehow, there's someone perfect who might be searching for us.
So heres something thats been on my mind for awhile-"Why do we meet those certain people in life that make all the difference?" Im pretty sure God has placed each one of them in our lives and each one will serve their purpose over the course of the friendship. But each person is so different from the other that there is no way they can have the same purpose for your life. There are those at school who you share the gospel with and God obviously placed them in your life so that he can be revealed to them or so you have experience with sharing the gospel and your testimony. But then there are those who you meet that are already Christians. You develop a relationship with them and it's great (a friendship type relationship is what im talking about). You share life stories and talk about anything, anytime, anywhere. That person then becomes a part of you, both of you know so much about the other that you can finish each others sentences. You have way too many inside jokes to count and then you stop and think for a split-second before the thought leaves your mind-Whats gonna happen when we part paths and go along our own road of life? What was the significance of the time spent with that friend? Was it a lesson? Or was it more? Or are you suppose to realize how much they are worth once they leave? And what if they seem to be the 'perfect one', do you just let it go and let them live life? Do you let them slip away slowly? or do you catch them right before they fall away?
why did you meet them?
"Why did I meet "Her?"
ugh! you closet philosopher you! I must say, your post struck a chord in my big-bad-senior-heart. A lot of my writing seems to theme on change and the terribly reality of time an growing up and all that fun stuff (not so fun, actually). its good to start thinking about those realities now, because true, ties that are as strong as the ones we form at youth group take a little preparation before "breaking" lol
to dustin:
Christians are, by definition, "nonconformists"
"do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world. but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to discern what God's will is. He good, pleasing, and perfect will."
I see that with you, the things that you do are fueled hugely by this drive to be unique and different, to ruffle feathers with good intentions. not a bad quality, BUT I must bring to light the concept that as human beings, we are BOUND TO FOLLOW, we are bound to serve something or someone, whether it be God, ourselves, another. we can't help but be enslaved and the question here is which is the better master? who is the most extravagant gift giver, the most romantic life-saver. if the spoon maker knew exactly how the spoon worked best we would do ourselves well to follow his instructions. banging the spoon on our plate might give us a tremendous sense of autonomy and non-conformist thrill but we would not enjoy food the way the spoon maker intended for us to. this ALSO goes back to my blurb on worship. So obedience-- in areas of our lives such as swearing or getting drunk or whatever, I don't know--you may see it as "conforming," or you can see it as taking the path less chosen, the method leading to the best results. sure one may do those things and with the Lord as their savior still go to heaven but they won't reap the benefits of using the spoon and being fed. the experience will be clouded.
"I am come that they mave life and have it in abundance"
Jesus is pretty cool that way.
white dresses and pastor's blessings do not define people as married. neither do certificates. adam and eve were created for each other and no one else and under God's blessing were "married" in that they were exclusively one. The idea here is a binding commitment. BINDING. not just verbal. just food for thought.
this is a hard debate to have in writing.
I really struggled to resist the temptation to dig into this one, but this is one I must write about.
About having your own rules and following your own will and not the goverment and God, you have to understand that within that line of thinking lies exactly what will cause your doom. Let me put it in even more unpleaseant terms, that's what brough Lucifer to his doom.
He didn't want God's settings, God's game plan. He chose to follow his ideas, got a bunch of moron-followers and he was sent down like a meteorite to strike the earth and here we are.
Follow this line of thought, 'doing your thing', 'being original', and deceived you shall continue. Now, obviously because of the uneasy reputation I have before you, where in your words, 'I suck' and 'I am disrespectful', I could understand that you would dismiss what I am saying, but the fact is that you definitely need to readjust your view on things, particularilly one that matters quite some more, God.
Regarding Adam and Eve's question, why is it that God designed the whole thing for them to commit incest? It is a very interesting quesiton but the premise is utterly limited.
God creates one man and one woman and for them to multiply, they obviously need to have sex. Sure this is incest, but you keep forgetting that God makes the rules and he can lock or unlock anything he pleases. Just as sometime he wished an ass to talk, he unlocks this thing and the animal talks. Some people think of this miracle as unique, I think of it as something pretty natural. Even today some asses still talk.
Now is this unfair or just stupid? If you want to think of it like that, but the problem is that when you are God it doesn't really matter what you think since He simply is and does whatever he wishes.
Now obvisouly here it begs the quesiton, couldn't he have created some more men and women to anull the possibility of incest? Sure... but it's just really silly to dwell on 'what if' thoughts. Why didn't he create some more? Who cares? He did one and enough damage they made. Women have to deal with pain in labor and our land won't give us fruit!
Even supposing he made some more men and women at the same time, they would still be brothers and sisters since there are no 'last names'.
Now, one last thing it's not being considered. Going back to this, regardless of all the generations before us and Noah's ark and all this, all of us are sons of Adam and sons of Eve. Ever read Chronicles of Narnia? He got it right.
So instead of trying to find things in where God could've messed up or things that we are uneasy to think of, especially this incest one, regardless who you marry or sleep with before you marry (totally different issue that doesn't even deserve to be discussed since it's a case in point), you are still commiting incest, since she is a daugther or Eve, wife, sexual partner, girlfriend, hookup, one night stand, whatever you are happy calling her, of Adam.
I would like to say to all of you in here, that I am GRACIOUSLY going to alow this debate to go on, ONLY because I am interested in the direction it seems to be going. Please remember though that this is NOT A democratic country but a private blogsite in which you are all invited guests. so please take it like big kids if I mention that I care or do not care for certain things. or else, with respect, please choose another blog site, just a little disclaimer.
dear dustin
you have been terribly mistaken. in a very amusing way. a lot of the things you took as insults were actually just Biblical refferences you will soon read about as you dig deeper into God's word. I can explain them to you in person or by email if you want because they are interesting and do help the readability of the post. I think you also misread israel's tone, which is a down side to mixing the words blog and debate. perfectly understandable, if you are willing to understand.
also a little constructive criticism in debate for everyone. try to keep the emotion out and the objectivity in. this is not a discussion about who's worth what, but about ideas that are hard to sort out by ourselves. i will make an exception and allow for anonymous posting in this case if it will help you all to chill with the personality clashes.
I kind of have this smirk on my face that I can't control.
The only thing I will add to this debate is this: It seems we cannot trust your judgment. This is the third time in the course of a week that you've mistakenly made statements. Last time was with Eve not being Adam's wife, and now you attribute me words that I couldn't have made any more clear that were actually spoken by yourself. Here's what you say:
"Let me give you some advice: when trying to convince somebody of something, don't just try to make a point, but really OFFER them something to accept as truth. And don't tell them they suck and that they're disrespectful"
What I said:
"Now, obviously because of the uneasy reputation I have before you, where in your words, 'I suck' and 'I am disrespectful', I could understand that you would dismiss what I am saying"
See, by the rules of basic debate, we just cannot trust a word of what you are saying. Not only you can't follow the debate, but you confuse the simplest matters in discussion.
I do applaude how fast you understood the miracle animal remark.
I do agree with the owner of this blog, it seems that emotions are making you extremely unbalanced, and you just not thinking straight. Do yourself a favor and take a deep breathe, REALLY read all what I've written and Janis has written, but especially what YOU have written and see what happens.
In the matter of me not giving any truths to grasp on, not only you are mistaken, but also you should know something: 1. I am not trying to convince you of anything, time might do it for you as it did it for me. 2. All I am doing here is proving that you are not right and that you cannot be trusted, and in doing that, I don't even need to be right. Again, simple debate rule. I just remembered that tonight actually.
One more thing I wished I had included before. Still on the whole being original thing and following your will not God's or the government or anyone's, and if your will happens to match God's or anyone's, then both are happy.
I cannot believe how much you remind me of me. In retrospective, it kind of makes me sad and happy at the same time.
See, what you call original is nothing but simply the discovery of who you don't know you are. Let me explain.
If you believe some basic truths about God, then you will agree that you are created, crafted, designed and inspired by God. This means that nothing that you have is really your own but it's only either deposited in you directly by God, or simply the result of a capacity that God first gave you. Let me make it even easier to grasp. You breathe and feel the need to eat and the need to take dumps because of God's direct intervention over your body. This direct intervention is simply the way the human body works.
The second example goes to the result of a capacity you have. You are capable of doing wrong because of the capacity you have of choosing.
Simple enough, what you call original, is, like I said, nothing but the gradual discovery of the oneself you still don't know even exists. What you call 'your own rules' is not at all anything new (read Ecclesiastes, it elaborates this point really well).
About your joy being God's joy.. PLEASE think a little further and question what you've been told.
Think of the man who finds joy in stealing a bank because he loves the sense of danger, or the man who conquers women as a sport or the reckless driver who speeds like demons (that's another thought to question.. do demons really speed?) but finds it enjoyable, of his pleasure, to break the law in this way.
God condemns robbery pretty simply by saying 'thou shall not steal', despises the man who sees sex as a sport and looks in contempt to the man that thinks he is too good to follow any rule because this is prideful behavior.
Your joy is not necessarily God's joy. How easy would that be? To have a God that rejoices in our stupidity? He is not a police God, this I am sure, I know he has a disturbingly great sense of humour (I say it's disturbing because when you are God's size and you have his resources, any prank, joke or 'gotcha!' is pretty big... bigger than Punk'd if you need the point of reference).
His joy is to see you grow to be like Christ. His joy is to see your heart turn to him in honesty and humble your will, dreams and desires to his approval and then he will either deliver new ones or shape the ones you already have, or confirm them.
His joy is to see you wonder what he's like, wishing you were closer to him. His joy is to see His will being able to move in your life because you let him do it.
Is it too sheep-like? Of course it is. He calls himself shepherd and he calls us sheep.
You can like it or not. It doesn't really matter. He is a shepherd and shepherds take sheep. Nothing else, nothing close to it. Sheep.
I'm havig fun with all these observations on debating.
my last statements were directed to ALL posters/debaters, to be clear, not just Dustin. Another mistake which will hurt a debaters credibility is focussing on what their opponent has done wrong, and staking victories on that. in such cases as an overly excited opponent, they serve you their arguments on a silver platter and have harmed them enough.
now continuing the debate:
one could be easily intimidated and say "you just told me I'm wrong, that's no good." but understand this possibly new veiw point that obedience to GOd is the missing piece to our fragmented lives, it is a GOOD thing that we desperately need. humanity is like an infant who knows he must communicate but does not know that he must use words and in fact has never heard another speak. we wander and serve at soup kitchens and go to religious things and we do and we do. we know we need something, we need to find completion so we give more change to the homeless guy next to our car windows. DOING our best may seem noble, but true self-worth and self discovery is to meet the maker, to speak with the creator of ones lungs and ones fingernails and ones hormones. a sort of receipt, or supernatural deposit of this open connection with God--is a desire to follow his way, not because you want to be "good" or "score brownie points in heaven" but because the holy spirit is alive in you. you, like Neo in the Matrix, have discovered the deception, and cast it off one concept-- and worldview-- and will-at a time. I don't know if this puts things in a different perspective, but if it at least does not make you think, I beg to qustion how thoroughly you chose to read what I've written.
I have some good stuff to say about Dustin's comment "I don't think I make anyone's life worse." care to share if you'd care to hear. but I've written enough for now.
Very well. Now that we are happy, what is the conclusion?
maybe I'll tell you in person. remind me.
it feels like leaving a room thats beautiful through some plain conventional door. it makes you fear, and it makes you faint because that room was the only one of its kind. the only one. and there's no guarantee that there will be another quite comparable. you weep on the fringed pillows, wipe your tears on the afghan blanket you'd held comfortably the night before. fold up it up. its time to go. they'll laugh if you stay and the room--brightly colored walls so sweetly, tragically-- they're turning grey. your lungs empty out and forget themselves. Breathe. and move through the doors. oh but wait, please wait. just take more pictures. capture the room, capture its soul. but never touch the leather on the couches again or ever feel quite the same breeze come through great bay windows.
"come, let us reason together"
in the midst of my fear, I can be so unsure,
but dare I think I've offended my maker
and he declares to me in his chiding tone
come on. Lets duke it out.
The churches think they've got it down, blind faith and all,
but I wrote the book, he tells me.
I spelled out the covenants,
I came to earth, I held the nails in my flesh.
I made the ground that holds you up and the gravity which keeps you down
the steel you trust to fly you through the air and hold you as you sit ,
the food you eat: ever a stone for bread did I give you? or a snake instead of fish?
you trust me every day, and do not see it
those foot prints, those testimonies, those glaring declarations
that I think you're alright
and that I'm taking you somewhere
that you're moving, yes, moving forward.
and that its okay to want some answers
okay to ask and alright to wonder.
I may choose foolishness to confound the wise
but tell me who created reason?
Come on lets duke it out.
I just spent the last 45 minutes trying to catch up on what the heck all these debates and blogs are about. Conclusions: I pray to God that I conform to His will because I know that mine is nothing short of disgusting. Is God opinionated, heck yeah! But not like you or I, His is true and right. He is bound by His character. He cannot lie or deceive or mislead. The Word he left us, namely the Bible is nothing short of that either. It cannot lie, deceive or mislead. It has been preserved to still be His Word thousands of years later, not by man, but by Him. Dustin, your opinion is great. I love that you are thinking, but our comparision of what is good and right can only be measured up to His Word and Him, not the world around us. Our only purpose of being is to bring glory to him and the best way I know how is to obey. In John, Jesus says more than once, "If you love me than obey me." I don't want to throw Scripture at you, but there is nothing truer or more right. What God says is wrong is wrong, and right is right. I won't speak for you or anyone else, but as for me and my thoughts and actions, I don't have too many that are any good. If I told you some of the thoughts I had today, you would want to vomit. God has no impure thought. How could he come up with a bad rule to follow?
I want more than anything to be different, to think outside the box that we seem to be constantly pushed into. But truth be told, if I could choose once and for all to be my own person or be exactly like Christ, I choose Christ. Man, I want to be exactly like Him! I want to be a conformist. I want you to look at me and say, "I see Jesus." Not just a piece of Him, or a fragment of the man that lived 2000 years ago, but all of Him.
I pray as Paul prayed in Colossians 1 that the wisdom of God would be in you. That you would understand Scripture fully. I have a long ways to go and I probably have some things wrong, but my one absolute that I always fall back on to keep me going somewhat in the right direction is that the Bible, all of it, King James Version, New King James, New International, English Standard, New American Standard and whatever else, is right and true. If we begin there, then we at least have a chance of our paths being straight.
Keep thinking, keep debating. God does not fear our questions or debates. You are right...God did create the brain inside of all of us to think with! So think on...
Quite remarkable the latest posts. I loved changing seasons, Janis' ideas, as usual are so insightful and pure, and no one special, I have my guesses on who the writer could be, but whoever it is, I must say that your point constructing was extremely fast and powerful.
When I was in law school and working in with great lawyers, the cases that I handled were not especially tough, but they demanded some arguing to hppen. One thing they told me is that however complicated or simple the facts of any matter are, you want to make your point so fast and so simple that not only they don't see it coming, the judge and the opponent, but it is also impossible to destroy.
Here it is not about being right because the right answer when it comes to God is always really simple.
...
I started writing something here but I've decided to transfer it to my blog site. I am feeling it.. you could say.
2 Timothy 3.16
All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; (NASB)
Every Scripture is God-breathed (given by His inspiration) and profitable for instruction, for reproof and conviction of sin, for correction of error and discipline in obedience, [and] for training in righteousness (in holy living, in conformity to God's will in thought, purpose, and action), (AMP)
Every part of Scripture is God-breathed and useful one way or another--showing us truth, exposing our rebellion, correcting our mistakes, training us to live God's way. (MSG)
If you still have questions of how reliable the sources are, read The Case for Christ. Quite useful material.
I agree. really great latest posts. I have my guesses on "no one special" as well. very well put criticism Havoc. and Dustin those are some very valid very realistic questions to ask. I'll be praying for you as well as myself because I've asked sticky questions like that so many times.
A Hideous House Guest--
As immediately as I glanced in her direction and the music switched to pitiful piano, everything inside me repulsed her. she was a decoration on a shelf, a statuette. Some one paid money for her--paid for that face of plastic and porcelain--a big fat lady nearing the end of happier days. She wore a feather boa and her leopard print revealed some embarassing "hail mary" attempt to turn back time. The song was then about death, in beautiful sad piano clothes. It was about the afterlife and the loss of someone dear. The two side by side--song and statue--made me sick, so much so that I ran for pen and paper napkin.( I just HAD to record these self-righteous sentiments and "oh so clever" observations about a conversation piece decorating someone else's entertainment center. pathetic)
Something in her painted face was searing, every detail painfully crisp and each color pronounced like a peice of fudge too rich for the palette. She held a fan of cards lowered in half-interest, her mouth gaped in what seemed like a forced laughter as though she were trying to convince herself that she could but die with ecstasy. Certainly she could die. not with ecstasy, yet maybe the next moment of her frozen life she gets the attack,-- the seizure, the stroke, the whatever--maybe she swears invincibility because facing reality is not in the recipe for living the high life--and then the rug gets pulled and her curtain goes down before she can bowed to her audience of mirrors.
I wanted to smash her against a wall. I really wanted to chuck her off a cliff or onto a train track and watch her explode to pieces--as though she were the problem of this world, the embodiment and inspiration of every fruitless search for meaning. I wanted to see her break because she reminded me of the nightmare image I hold of myself years from now when I'm nearing the end of happier days and people are dying and I'm cackling over the inconsequencial cards in my fat fingers. Hideous, wretched nightmare!
To write something that matters is really no diffrent than writing anything.
I can try and do my best, and yet not make it to be enough. I can shine even in the darkness, but I crave the light that only One can bring. I can love but I need his heart. I am strong even on my own, but from Him I know I should never depart.
These past days sleeping has become a duty more than a necessity. I don't even feel tired. I know I should be. I know I should just lay down on my bed but I know it won't happen. My mind is too awake. I am wondering about the mysteries of life, eternity and heaven. I wonder, I wonder, I only wonder.
Who I was and who am I now? Is there a miracle awaiting? A supernatural power that draws me to a surface. A dry ground where my feet are steady and no winds of change can make my steps stumble.
I am only a natural man. Nothing special or particular about me. My problems are nothing new and my thoughts might surprise many, but now you. I believe you are supernatural and do whatever pleases you. Take my horror.
Sometimes I find it easier to love a person than to love God. It's always easier to fight against yourself so you don't fail to your beloved? Why is it that it is easier to defeat the temptation of cheating on your wife, but it just seems more acceptable to cheat on God?
Who knows. Just questions. Need to sleep. I just can't.
Dustin, interesting response. There are two thoughts that come to mind about what you said. First, regarding the idea that what you are talking about and what I am talking about are the same, I mean specifically about following our hearts. The major difference is that I want to serve that which is great that me, and you want to serve yourself. My heart doesn't desire God all of the time. I have to force myself because I know that He is who I should follow. If I listened to my heart, again I would be in pretty big trouble. Janis said it earlier, everybody has to serve somebody. I am reminded of a verse in Luke 9:24, "For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake, he is the one who will save it." The desire should be to lose my identity in Christ. That is truly when I gain my identity.
Now in regard to following the Bible and the reliability of Scripture and who wrote what, etc. First, when all the facts are presented the one side seems to stand out over another, the decision will still need to be made on faith. If this thing called Christianity were easy and everything was proven beyond a shadow of a doubt about the Bible, than everyone would believe and follow (maybe). To discuss the facts that support the Bible and that the writers were divinely inspired would take way too much space and I don't think Janis would want that on her page. But, I will say that I have never heard an argument that has ever led to any major doubt. I say major because I have asked many questions, but every question has always landed me right back at the sovereignty of God and this is his plan, not Matthew's, Paul's, Peter's, Moses', etc. It is His! I have to believe that any God worth worshipping or following better be all powerful, he better be perfect. And if I believe that he is perfect and all powerful, than I have to believe that he can communicate HIS WORD through HIS PEOPLE to ME. And so He has...in the Bible.
It's funny how you dismiss certain portions of the Bible.
he's got a point there havoc. might have to give you a yellow card for circular reasoning. lol
miner ventilation:
I'm NOT sick anymore, this cough of mine really NEEDS to go away. gahhh
Dustin, as far as the writers of the Bible are concerned, ok, there is a possibility, but there is a possibility for almost anything. Let's take the extreme, maybe there is no God. Maybe we are alone in this life and the Bible is all a hoax. There is that possibility, but I have found that God does exist because He has communicated to me through nature, through others lives being changed, etc. In the same way I have found the Bible to be just what it says it is, God's Word. Now, you are right that it is unfair to use the Bible to define itself and tell us what it is. But that is the way God did it. The historical facts that support the Bible only support the accuracy of what was written and the events that took place, but again, you are right in saying that there is no way to know if the writers lied. The only thing I can do is have faith that the perfect, all powerful God is able to have every word in the Bible be true.
Now, as far as the "serving yourself" part, it honestly depends on what you mean about serving yourself. What I mean is, to be consciously seeking to better oneself for personal gain and profit I think would be counter-Biblical. I mean specifically that being a focus of your heart. Now, on the other hand, if you were serving God and he was the focus of your heart and he blessed you with a great house, job, etc., I see no problem with enjoying that. But it is a matter of the heart. In the verse I quoted earlier, right before it he says that we must "deny ourselves and take up our cross." We must forgo what we want and follow Christ. Then also in Matthew 6:24 he says, "No one can serve two masters..." Yourself can be considered a master. I am not saying that your are less of a Christian, that is not what this is about. I am just trying to communicate what the Bible says. Now, if you don't believe that the Bible should be followed, all of it, not just some, than what I am saying would not mean much. The Bible is God's truth to us so we can live the life that he wants us to live.
Do you really want me to stick out all the evidence? A blogspot isn't the place for that. That is why I mentioned an actual book that devliers such process.
When it comes to God anything is theoretically possible.
One more thing, and please dismiss me from this topic by saying I am slow, but I am honestly not following what exactly you are trying to prove or discuss.
Do you want to get to the point where we say 'sure, it is possible that the Bible is fake?'. Sure, it is possible, according to the rules of evidence and due process. Do you want to come off as someone who, because of his discoveries, he finds himself beyond all rules because his perception of rules are simply founded in rock solid arguments? (This last statement has a trick conection I am not expecting you to find)
It is a fact that you can win any discussion by arguing correctly. That is why smoking does not kill, oral sex is not sex and death is the means for peace.
What is fine, and this is about your last paragraph, is not to reject homosexuality. What is fine is not to alienate homosexuals simply because of their sexual preference. It is perfectly fine to embrace him or her as a friend, connect with this person and have him treated like what he is, a human being.
What is not fine is to simply ignore, again, a portion of the Bible that is very clear on this matter.
Like you said, it would be impossible to convince you otherwise. The problem with homosexuality is taht it so controversial that I am thinking that you would like people to tell you you are wrong and homosexuality is wrong so that you could dismiss us as judgemental and sick, and so you would make your case that you are a better person.
Is there anything wrong with homosexuality? In your terms, where you live beyond all absolutes and your joy is God's joy, sure, being a homosexual is perfectly fine as long as you are happy with it, and hence you 'worship' with it? Is taht right? Am I following your line of thought correctly? Oh, I'm sorry. It's changed since. Since you keep moving back and forth from your statements, saying something is true, proven wrong, say you agree, taht you really meant soemthing else, then stating a new thing as if it were connected... I just can't follow.
Ask me if I would sit on a gay man's lap.
Dustin, do you believe that the Bible is God's Word of truth to us? If not, than our arguments about what is written in the Bible are worthless. We will not get anywhere if we differ on what we think the Bible is. I believe in is God's inerrant Word, inspired by him and written through men. Now if you believe that too, than I cannot understand how you get to pick and choose which parts are truth (truth as in universal, absolute truth, not relative to each person). Ok, so we differ on the homosexuality issue as far as believing what the Bible says, but let's take an issue you believe the Bible is correct on...what if I think it is wrong in my heart? Who decides than what is correct? How can we as the created being think that we can decide when something that the Bible says, God, the creator's own Word, is right or wrong? That would mean that everything in the Bible is complete dependant upon the reader, which means at some point every point in the Bible will be disagreed with by some person somewhere. So, let's just throw the Bible away. Either it is all true, or none of it at all.
Those who responded to your posts are obviously convinced of something. If the entire world had a life threatening disease and only a few had the cure, they would be passionate about sharing that with others. I think their perspective and mine has been that while people may have cozy notions about their lives, an epidemic spreads unnoticed--given that those cure-holders" were true, no benevolent thought or idealistic perspective-however lovely or kind--could change the realistic truth that everyone was dying. forgiving the extreme analogy, please understand that It was in this light that thoughts were shared on your beliefs.
This run of comments was, moreover, to be a debate, not a shouting match or a conversion, or a trial. Just a debate with objective reasonings with the basic objective that whoever makes more sense comes nearer to the truth and wins the trust of the audience and perhaps the opponent--unless a counterpoint equally well made tips the scale. People should have refrained from personal attacks because that aids nothing. you may not be interested in changing your mind or anyone elses for that matter, on the subjects at hand, but whats to stop people from sitting down and examining, exploring, etc what they hold as truth. You may say, well, Janis, that's just what I'd like you all to do. but I can answer for myself that I have--through this debate and many others and even debates within myself--I have seen from your perspective and his and hers and theirs alike, acknowledging my leanings but also considering things from those perspectives I don't share. and in doing so, reasoning has won me over. that and the personal experiences with God that led me to believe in his word. I've weighed and crticized and found nothing guilty but my own suspicions.
I don't know if I can speak for Israel because you two seem to have a knack for tearing at each others' throats. but in reading other posts, I saw NO ONE tossing your views out of a window. On the contrary, they accomodated your argument everytime, set it up there to look at themselves and then very neatly explain its place in the world of views. for example, in trying to understand you better, they compartmentalized arguments into how you choose to see the Bible: inerrant and inspired, or man-made and optional. it was their regrettful acknowledgement to you that you may be running up a completely different stream which if so, would make the arguments as irelevant as pandas are to fly fishing. (arguing apples with oranges) I think you misinterpreted that major. OBVIOUSLY, if someone believes something to be true/important, they will want others to see that truth , understand their reasoning--so, sure, your opponent may wish for you to believe as logic has led them to believe. That is as far from insulting your views as offering a cure is insulting your immune system. call it what you will, but please do reconsider or at least redirect your accusations.
and israel, that last post left me scratching my head. what were you getting at?
You are absolutely right. This is not a trial. Which is why I will not post anymore on this matter.
About what I was getting at, I havet o admit that although my direct intention is never to offend, with Dustin if seems to happen just plain naturally.
Dustin, you seriously need to stop catching offenses all around you. I could perfectly offer you my cheap psychoanalysis, but I can almost predict that you would burst out in anger towards me, and although it would be lots of fun to watch, I don't have time for that.
So, speaking of this, I also don't have time or even interest in watering down my thoughts about you, I will just say it with all the rough edges.
Yes I disagree with almost everything you say. I find your perspectives utterly beyond reason, and you are wrong in asking me to keep them for myself because you have to realize that the moment you share your points of view, in that precise moment you become vulnerable, public and subject of qualification. If you don't like that, then YOU keep your opinions for yourself.
Like I told you before in a different post, if you cannot handle oposition and people against you, then you shouldn't make yourself public at all. Ever.
Do you think I was offended at all when you told me publicly that I suck? Do you think I have ever been offended when people disagree with my views? Ask around, I am one of the most opinionated people in this ministry. I don't give in easily.
The moment I get in your head is the moment you lose. The moment you let yourself make matters personal you stop arguing and you start fighting.
You will not learn this from me though. Even when you learn this you will not remember that I told you so. Nonetheless, you should know it.
I don't have to like what you say, deal with it. I don't have to agree with you. All I have to do is to respect you, but honestly, you've created the insults. I have never addressed you in a derogative sense. I have attacked your saying, but never you as a person. You've made it personal Dustin. You. Not me.
Dustin, Janis said it well. I totally did not mean for you to feel that I was wrecking on you. Now granted, I do have some extremely strong convictions about the subject matters, but my intention was also to try to understand exactly what you meant and how you viewed things. I enjoy the debate, but as far as gray area...in regard to the Bible, there is not much for me with it being the absolute truth, every word, every period.
now will someone go write some poetry? the numbers are really looking pathetic.
And I hope you will be a believer!
SO much running through my brain..
I feel like writing but have no practical thing to express or any reasonable way to express it. I feel like splatter painting, like taking a gazillion colors, and professing no expertise, and releasing the impulses of my paintbrushes to create who knows what. Forget staying in the lines or getting in the corners. give me sponges and acryllic covered tenis balls. toss my stress at a blank canvas and laugh at the results. How awesome would that be? throw in some hard core punk rock-- that's totally how I feel right now. Like Punk rock blasting, like dancing like a fool, like throwing paint around, and like writing all of it down since I am not exactly able to enter such a haven in this moment of time and space.
I want to get paint on my nose. =)
evicted/promoted
what's at the middle of grief and joy? if Someone could die and be born, be broken, shredded, and somehow be brand new. A man recieving an indictment, then also stand for his award. feel a kick in the face upon a loving caress. its a funny sort of attention that I crave, a complicated sort of empathy that I dare not expect. like I'm too hot and too cold, I'm wrenched with heartache and very confused and its for good and for very terrible and it seems like something so important but too deep to ask anyone to care with me.
I won't see them again. I may see them but it won't be THEM. it will be them grown, them distant, them disconnected and unimportant. I will not go there again. I may go there but I will not go THERE. I will go there visiting, there briefly, there awkward and unknown. I can't expect that anyone can know how much it all meant to me or how it makes my stomache queasy to think about the finality.
something monumental is occuring and someone put the television on mute.
I guess this is more of a journal entry than creative writing. I was re-reading one of the greatest books on the planet, Captivating, and the author spoke about a girl who was absolutely gorgeous. she was thin and flawless, but she was "striving". whenever you were in her presence you didn't find a soul at rest but a soul on the go. She ran 5 to 10 miles everyday. her beauty was "tenuous" and continuously being perfected. she sounded like me. Reading the excerpt had me almost sobbing, cause that area of my life is a real bruise. . I strive and doubt and I'm so afraid that I just end up hiding. I Strive and struggle and go to the gym and if I'm successful I come out of hiding on rickety stilts. its a funny joke on God's part that my striving has not resulted in the perfect image I think I'm headed for. Apparently I'm being held at bay, as I'm slowly learning, until I grasp a truer concept that beauty comes from a soul at rest. beauty is inviting, it puts people at ease, its trusting and liberating. in the Bible it talks about women adorning themselves with a "gentle and quiet spirit"--not a gentle and quiet personality--but a quiet spirit. a spirit resting assure, calm and confident and satisfied. my word, I've got quite a ways to go.
Janis, more than once I've told you, perhaps not using those same words, but many times you are the only one that puts my troubled mind to some sanity; as far as striving goes, you shouldn't fight too much about that. I assure you, you are more stunning than what you think.
I would agree with Havoc, Janis. You sell yourself short in more than one way!
Hey you, new blog stuff. thehavoc, remember? I don't post it in src.. it's not G rated stuff.
I think everyone could use a little house arrest once in a while. honestly, some of us in this world really don't realize when we actually WANT to sit still and do nothing and be with no one.
It is Saturday evening and I am under such arrest (aka grounding) and I don't mind a bit. The Parents are at a wedding, sister is hanging out in West Palm, and i until this point have had me to myself. haha. I swore I wanted to go light up the town (JK)but apparently...not:
1) walk in the door famished
2) discovery chinese food in the fridge
3) find a good movie on tv
4) eat half the chinese food cold
5) heat up chinese food
6) eat in front of the television
7) contemplate dessert
8) vanilla ice cream with graham cracker crumbs
9) blow dry my hair
10) watch more of the movie
11) look for church out fit
12) try on mom's dresses
13) dance in front of the mirror
14) I'm going to college
15) I hope my roommate likes to dance
I missed my guitar. Uncle Mike is fixing the pickup and I've been without it now for about a week and a day. It must be so pathetic sitting in that case by itself. Some parent somewhere is waiting for their kid to return from summer camp, and I'm waiting to reclaim my Takamine from its repairs. Those guys better wash their hands before they turn my keys.
I missed my guitar, like most good instrument owners probably would. But this week, I didn't just want it, I needed it. King David played his harp for a little peace of mind, and modern-day-me needed some quiet, too.
I missed my guitar. "my summer's destractions are over; what next?! where can I need to be, what can I need to plan. what can I need to learn? What, what next?!" something was wrong. something needed finishing, like a splinter or an itch--
but who on earth would ever choose to seek out sorrow?
I missed my guitar. For unemotional me, the opportunity to feel grief had been a peculiar luxury. A luxury? yes, grief is a luxury-- because it gives value to what one has lost. It is luxurious because it says to the closed chapter, to the changing season, to the used up calender pages, "you were significant." it is luxurious because, with authority it declares, "Your impact is deeply felt." Its a debt of gratitude. I believe the grown-ups call it closure.
It is peculiar because it is painful.
I missed my guitar. Music had been my tears and song had been the line of communication with my distracted little heart. there are few things that it listens to, few things that make it realize and stir.
and so a million songs had taunted clarity in my ear. the rhymes had lept up in eager charity, only to sit again offended by my silence. Repulsed for lack of a melody to land on, they'd left the tangled mess of my emotions yet encripted.
I missed my guitar. At the time I did not know why. I never do realize when grief is pawing at the back door. Instead, I planned to go "hang out" some more. To go accomplish some more. To go small talk and occupy and see if the itch would be satisfied. My parents made me stay home.
Long story short, the peculiar luxury of grief presented itself that evening in the form of dust and memory boxes. sorting and filing and fitting old birthday candles and airplane napkins and snail mail into the tighter quarters of a brief case, somehow my heart betrayed its reputation --and felt. I opened a compartment:
"7th grade." Kaylanie passing notes in class, Raquel in the hospital with a thumbtack in her throat, the charter school and art and Nick O'leary.
and another:
a piece of scratch paper from Mexico. we were writing notes in spanish during a sermon. Sophmore year, my skater days, t-shirts with numbers on the back and John Ballard's skate board, dashboard confessionals, punk rock, concerts, olympic heights, Kimme underwood, the spanish hallway,
and another:
Summit, letters from Ethan Barrett, letters from Raquel, the prayer team, mime, Mexico,
I missed my guitar. But i am suprised to say that maybe it needed to just be out of the way. Maybe the unnemotional me is really just the fearful me who doesn't like to hurt. I cried my guts out, and every where I looked I was reminded of some other memory. it hurt so bad and hurts now to write about. but yeah, its good.
this is the part of college where I abandon all reasonable study habits for an hour or two and, having nothing good to say whatsoever... I endeavor to write.
I'm pretty glad nobody really reads this stuff anymore because what will end up on this entry is pretty much the unorganized upchuck of an uninspired writer.
So what does Joplin write about right now as she closes her exploring the Bible text book? what mysteries of life are there to discuss or should she just settle for a dull exposition on the first week of her college experience?
I guess this IS the "fine thoughts and philosophies" section after all... maybe, then, I will explore a very fine philosophy of mine... something which is certainly a rule but just as certainly unwritten... until today. and that is that the desire of every artist is to be seen, to be heard, to be read or appreciated in whatever way they are to be appreciated. It is a fact that seems simple enough, yet it is both strangely overlooked and frustratingly crucial.
I guess what the realizeation begs is: Why do we somehow feel the need to pretend like we don't love what we've just created, that we'd be perfectly contented to stare at our painting and listen to our cleaver arrangements of words all day long without a second thought if anyone cares to see.
If I were a complete stranger I would not get past the first sentence of this entry. WHat a bust, I'd think! Its funny. By all respectable expectations of a confident human being I probably shouldn't care what my reader thinks. aha! and yet it matters so much more than any of us who create anything ever care to admit. We think that when we sneak our guitars out of our room and into the courtyard its just to get some fresh air. ha! that's freakin' histerical.
John Eldredge has become by far a top 3 author. His view on life has certainly challenged my life and shaken many strange concepts about myself and life itself.
What you write reminded me, somewhat, in an extensive nature, to what he explains in two of his books, Sacred ROmance and Journey of Desire.
THe artist is certainly made to be heard, seen and appretiated. In words of Dan Allender, a man I've only heard by 'Godincidence', he explains that today we live in a season of existence where arts are to be used to bring light and peace and redemption and awe to a world where dark hearts abound. THat it is beauty that is the tool that God uses to enlight the lost and rescue the one whose gone astray.
I believe the artist must believe in his art. That is the one thing I can reproach from you. I find it great that you've finally reached this realization, that your art has a wider impact than you can imagine. I can only name a few of the many people I know for a fact that admire you and your craft, myself included.
I can only imagine and chuckle when I realize how you wil savor each day from college, somehow sure you won't take for granted anything at all.
So keep staring at your words and bathing yourself with all your chord progressions. It is there for you to enjoy and never be ashamed of such a thing. Maybe you will be able to remember when I mentioned that I believe every single person in the world is capable of creating any sort of art, and even when he or she may not be skilled at all, as he tries and believes that what he's doing is what he's supposed to do, even when he sucks at singing, maybe he'll find that sculpting is his thing or maybe he will never find it and channel his energy to singing and find his soul at peace... who knows.
I have found that life is meant to be lived, and life can only be enjoyed when we find art. IMagine a world without music, or poetry or painting. How dull and empty would this world be. Even God himself I believe had this burning passion inside to create and in a heartbeat the universe came to be. The universe is just one of GOd's thoughts. And so we are made like Him, and although we certainly can't create another universe that compares to His, I believe we are very capable of bringing beauty to this broken world.
Enjoy this as I enjoyed writing it.
I.
A Kiss from the King
(phrase borrowed from the devotional study "falling in love with Jesus)
Pure delight. The greenery and the sunshine and my pounding heart--they were the very definition of the word. I woke that morning with a craving for adventure, and you knew. How did you know?
I like to pretend that I was kidnapped by you, as I began my excursion through the bike path. The walk was beautiful. The air was cool and still and everything was dewy. It was as though I was spying on nature while it was still yawning and seated up in bed. As I walked, You didn't wait for me to greet you. Instead you spoke first, although not with words:
I followed the curve in the gravel ground, still amusing myself with nature and its new day, when suddenly my eyes were ambushed by a scene around the turn. How do you do that? How do you know wat makes my heart do sumersaults?
I had "discovered" a lake. It was a normal little lake off in the distance. A lake blockaded by tall green grass, craddled in the arms of a green field,
It was just a lake, but in that moment, You brought it to me singing silver songs, and bathing in sunshine. and more than anything in the world, I wanted to go explore!! I wanted to be on the banks of that lake, and you knew.
two steps later, I found myself walking along a "secret trail" to those forbidden banks and there your fragmented little messages became a symphony of truths
that you are the perfect romancer, that you have the heart of a kid, that you like to get lost with me and walk through hidden trails with me and wonder with me about the strength of the tree branch by the water or the flies hopping on the lake surface or the gross orange squirmy thing that's on the bank.
To the reader: Now don;t get me wrong. I promise the whole walk asn't sappy. Most of the time I was laughing with God, and while I did come back to the room with a bouquet, it was a bouquet of weeds that didn't match. How did he know?
This "kiss" took place on a trip to Chicago with my church for the Willow Creek arts conference. Aside from some adults, my only company was that of five very noble young men that are near and dear to my heart.
Apparently, God's timing is flawless.
"In the presence of a thousand kings you are my one desire."
-Be Glorified
In order to begin, I would like to tell you about the slice of banana bread that I just ate. oh my gosh. I'm not even trying to be cute or funny. I've almost never been more serious than I am now. It was incredible. I think I would've run 3 miles for it if the cafeteria ladies told me to. lol. Wouldn't it be great to live your life like that? to be so sure of the goodness of something, to be so convinced at your core that you desire it, that it's worth amounts even to the point of discomfort or pain? One of my guy friends complained recently that girls never know what they want. Heck I don't know why he didnt just throw in all of humanity since we're all so wimpy and unsure.
Boy oh boy, when I get inspired by baked goods, apparently there's no telling what might happen. lol
This semester my life is pretty much consumed with learning stuff. learning how to keep track of my time and my self and my quiet times and my assignments and my meals and and my laundry...just lots of living "on your own" essentials. God is teaching me everyday how to be honest and sincere and confident with people, how to start and pursue friendships when you're starting from scratch (its pretty scary). He's teaching me about being content in singleness, which is NOT easy...ahhh so NOT EASY...but its so good.
The lessons I'm learning, and the sweet fellowship with God that I do not deserve are so filling, so worth the struggle of embracing them.
I hope that you will live today in passionate pursuit of something as convincingly good as a slice of banana bread. that you will be moved to desire something so much so that you are willing to wait for it even through discomfort or pain. =)
I gotta go do some last minute reading for this class I have in an hour.
Today I decided I would have an adventure. I told God about this decision like a proud kid with new shoes and even wrote it in my journal. I would find one and have it. that was that. and I was sure, like the Jews awaiting a messiah to bring down the Romans, that my adventure would be just what I expected when I expected it, and I waited.
The most exciting thing I did today was take a different route to my exploring the Bible class. And I thought about J-walking across Olive Ave.
It's now 9:57 pm and I wonder whether adventure might still find me this late in the game. I guess waiting for an adventure is pretty adventurous. It's taking the risk of hoping to have to take a risk. I will try this adventure thing again tomorrow. and I will keep my eyes open wider. and I'll try to dream a little bigger tonight.
"Adventurer, frown at these still feet and take me far beyond my comfort streets"
God is good. I've had more than a few very wonderful adventures in the past 48 hours since writing the last post. I've waken up for the sunrise three times this week and sat on the ledge farthest out into the intercoastal to watch it. I went running yesterday and got lost, kind of on purpose, and saw a whole new part of Palm Beach island I haven't seen before. umm today I went on a bike ride and almost got run over by a truck that crept out too far at a stop sign. Cary said he thought I was gonna die. but I didn't. and then at the half-way point dock I slow-biked as far as I could down the dock (water on either side and my balance on this road bike is terrible!!) then I hopped down below the ledgeto stand closer to the water and see if I could get to the other side of the fence, but I coudn't. and then on the way home I finally ask Cary if we could go down this side road that I've been wanting to explore... and at the very end of it we found a HIDDEN BIKE PATH!!! LOL thanks God (I like to pretend things like that are "hidden" and "secret." its a little game between me and God.) it was incredible and so amazing and...no stop lights (I abhor biking through intersections) God is so romantic, I can't stand it sometimes. =)
"We [women] long to be an irreplceable role in a great adventure." -Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge
according to Angela Medoza:
adventure needs dangerous and spontaneous and romantic.
According to Michael Lofaso, adventure is somehting that gets your adrenaline going, "fight or flight instinct" must be involved.
according to Raquel Zayas: n adventure is taking a risk, doing something out-of-the-ordinary. Adventure i ideally found in nature because it is unpredictable.
quote by John Eldredge,
"Women love adventures if all sorts...we were made to be part of a great adventure...we long to be an irreplaceable part in a great adventure." (inspiration for the "fairytale song"
More from John Eldredge
"Men also long for adventure. Boys love to clib and jump and see how fast they can ride their bikes(with no hands).
Adventure is a deep spiritual longing in the heart of every man... [it] requires something of us, puts us to the test. Though we may fear the test, at the same time we yearn to be tested, to discover that we have what it takes."
It is also our greatest fear, doom and redemption.
go now. Ted Haggard. Sadam Hussein and a twist to my story.
the blog
For some reason I have been thinking about music a lot lately, specifically on how what music I love defines me, "colorizes" me and generally makes my life better. Sort of a "music of my life" collection. I tried making one CD but it's just not enough. How could I possibly choose between Suite: Judy Blue Eyes and YoYo Ma playing Bach? Or Bridge Over Troubled Waters instead of Welcome to the Machine? How do I choose which Leo Kottke or Michael Hedges tunes to include? How to distill one's musical essence down to the final representation?
If you are a musician, or at least have a musical soul you can understand that music is truly the language of God; it is an emotive expression of an underlying mathematical and physical perfection (unless of course you're out of tune or off key...)(and even then God probably doesn't care). Maybe one of these days I will post on the subject of quantum mechanics and free will (choice) but as I think about it for ever so short a time I can't put music into that process. It's that sound (in the sense of music) allows us poor pathetic humans to transcend all aspects of probability and outcome, choice and consequence. What a great gift we have been given!
Here's a gift to you: download "It's a Long Way There" (the long version) by the Little River Band. Turn off the lights, put on the headphones, push play and share the experience on my 19th birthday so long ago. I caught it from the first note as I wandered around the radio that night. Happy birthday to me!
If you have children (now or in the future) PLEASE have them learn an instrument or learn to sing. Well. Besides teaching them to love God and love other people instead of just themselves there is, and I am CERTAIN about this, no greater gift you can give them.
Ciao for Niao and Cheers from Here!
Steve, awesome awesome awesome as always. I don't know if you intended to post this here or only on Israel's spot but if you don't mind I think I'll publish it here any how...
my favrite line: "How to distill one's musical essence down to the final representation?"
=)
Impressive. Until now I know what you were talking about. Simply profound.
twaddle? hahahaha I'm loving these posts Steve. I'm putting in my two sense when I can dig up a spare moment.
Two years ago I worked for a youth camp in Mexico. We did many things but the main focus were the nights. We had a guest speaker, band, and certainly we expected to created moments where everyone could connect with God. That particular year in my heart the need to create a video was stirred. I used clips from The Passion. As music for the background I used Hasta que ya no respire mas, by Rojo, one of my favorite bands. The whole process was incredible, and I dare to say, miraculous. See, I spent probably 1 week doing this video, and the funny part was that my computer wasn't even technically capable to handle video editing. It did. The result was beyond what I expected. Even today, everytime I watch it it touches my heart, and the night we used over 3/4 of the people there either gave their lives to Christ or recommited their hearts to Him. A moment of intimacy and awe.
One thing I have come to understand lately is the importance of art. You speak of how a song which scientifically isn't any different than another can make you cry, yet another is simply annoying. What is then the secret to touch a soul with art if art can be explained, allegedly, through science. A Miro can be explained as the composition of elements and reactions that result in colors. The minor chord in a song is nothing but the first, flat third and fifth.
What is the secret? Why is it that Dvorak can stir my emotions, but Justin Timberlake can't. They are both talented. They both do (did) music.
We live in a sick, broken world. It has come to my attention the words of a man who knows brokeness and sorrow better than anyone perhaps. Dr. Dan Allender He wrote:
"Our culture has great doubt that there can be clear truth found in merely structures or propositions.. or the elegance of spoken word.
The core issue of our day is beauty. The core issue is whether or not beauty will move the heart. To the passions of what the heart was meant to become.
Beauty is not only a terrible thing, but it is a mysterios thing. There God and the Devil strive for mastery and the battleground is the human heart.
In the presence of beauty, one cannot be neutral."
Amen to that.
Arts, music particularly since it seems to be so universal, plays a vital role in the healing of the world. A poem could probably never touch the heart of a man who was abused as a child, or a girl who was called idiot, monster and spat on when young. But maybe that same poem in the waves of a song could break her heart, and in her tears she could wash the pain away.
God intended art, beauty, to be like that. I am sure that when he finished the universe even He was impressed of the beauty of it. Yes he is more beautiful than the universe, but everything came from his imagination. The Great Artist. Even the stars sing and resound.
There's a song by this guy from Spain. He wrote it right after 9/11 and in one of the verses he says: 'and who can prove to me that Christ didn't know how to sing?'
I think no one can.
Nothing at all. Initially.
I haven't written a poem in a long while. or any remotely fine philosophy for that matter. I just haven't been inspired enough and I'd rather apologize for no writing than shallow writing. This maybe insignificant writing but it is definitely authentic. the message I send in this post is that I have no message in this post. please don't read into me, don't put words in my mouth or extra letters the spaces. I have started out this post with no alternate intention but only to say I have nothing to say. intially. But its funny that when I finally express my nothingness, all of a sudden I begin to philosophize about even that, and then I am guilty of having said something more significant than the nothing I declared. So be it. that I may end this post having declared some profound idea, but accuse me not of supposing to claim any glory in thinking up and planning out any sort of genius. I make up most of my sentences the minute I've finished the ones preceding them-- I make it up as I go along. and so for the pure entertainment factor of criticizing my present state of inspirationless-ness and to vent my annoyance at having neglecting writing good things in so long--and to indirectly rant and rave about fake artists, who stumble upon beauty while taking a simple stroll and then call it the offspring of their cerebral womb--it is for those reasons, I believe that I am typing here on this page. There. I have now uncovered a significant thought or two amidst my ramblings. I hope the reader has been satiated. another indirect rant about the reality of audiences and their shallow, unquenchable apetite for a "show." If it is bad, the man "dies," if it is good, he is allowed to live and forgotten. If it is excellent, the meat of him is eaten up and spent and out worn and dirtied until he is common place enough to put on their shelf and never looked at again. and off they go to find another show.
Joplin Flashbacks:
this was written one whole year from today--
"writing in the new year.
2006 is less than 30 minutes away. the world will be a year older. History will be one year farther from our memory. VHS tapes will be a little more obsolete and the furture clicks by slowly like the climatic climb to the drop off of a rollercoaster... Graduation, college, decisions, 18th birthdays, another summer. its all way too sureal...I always dreamed about this year in particular as MY year. and now its knocking on my door and my heart skips anxiously as I wonder: am I ready to let it in just yet? heck yeah. lets go 2006. Bring it.. whatever it might be. More singleness? a little discomfort? a little adventure. Learning experience? Lets go 2006 cause I got this. Firecrackers are exploding around my neighborhood. someone forgot to remind the neighbors that its not the 4th of July just yet. time goes crazy fast BUT NOT THAT FAST.. ten minutes to go. Thank you God that though time may run me through with change, you remain and always will remain faithful and constant! May this year be one in which I hold you as my first love! amen."
My Heart's In My Mouth Today
Do you ever get the feeling that something monumental is happening-- Something very beautiful, and very terrible, and altogether petrifying? And by petrifying I mean the overlooked definition of being turned to stone in fear; not wanting to move for fear that it will all go away before you ever find out what on earth it is.
This is how I feel today. I was going about my own business when all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of life from the corner of my eye. It makes my stomache churn to remember the magnificence of what I felt.
I live in a beautiful place, people are new and fascinating, music is ringing and blending and wonderful, confidence is not so scarce as it use to be and it finds me more pleasant to be around. God is merciful in so many tangible ways, and it is the word merciful which seems most appropriate since I have no merit to earn such goodness: he turns me to him when I should've turned away, when I should've found myself face-planting in pride, makes me wise when I should've acted a great big fool, tripping over quickness of tongue; he inspires prayers of noble desire: for obedience and victory and the provision and protection of loved ones,
howeverrr. That is only a piece of what I saw in the magnificent glimpse today. Please don't mistake me for simply saying that life is momentarily pleasant. That has been said and felt and forgotten many times over. I was only commenting on my own corner of earth's space and time, which happens to be so (pleasant).
The rest of what I saw was much more general, much more enthralling, more along the line of terror-- the unknown, eternity, infinity, branch after branch of human stories and colors and opportunities and road systems and species and books with page upon page of different thoughts; the complexity of the human mind and exponential span of hours man has existed. I am overwhelmed at the vastness of everything and the breath-taking beauty of a bigger picture-- watching each thread of life drive and read and turn and cook and pray and die into place. it's awful and wonderful and it strickens me to both speech and silence all at once.
Imagine the cold edge of a steel blade right up against the vulnerable flesh of your neck. Pressure increasing. Heart racing. Your survival instrinct kicks in, but opens no more options than that of complete stillness. Petrified, do-or-die stillness. Don't move a muscle. Maybe it'll all go away. Maybe you'll walk away alive. IMAGINE the cold, cold steel. What would run through your mind? What would find you here? What would you do?
I'm a little lonely today and the mood dampened my quandries quite a bit. That's not really what I wanted to write about at all, but once I typed the word steel, the descriptions and the images enticed me to aimlessly continue. Successfully I have described a horrid scenario. Unsuccessfully I have put forth something of meaning to this earth...
What I want to write about is the loneliness I feel and to mock its universality. I am no different from anyone else and there is NOTHING new
under the screaming orange sun. Nothing I feel is anything unique or worth mentioning. the phrase which comes to mind is "suck it up, nobody."
I want to write about how it sucks. How it sucks to feel lonely and how it sucks to be a cliche. how many times have I wished someone could make that 45 minute drive with me, someone to inquire about the details of my life, someone who could KNOW ME. How many times have I wished I weren't at the gym by myself, weren't singing by myself, weren't rocking out at a red light for my own entertainment, or dancing, dancing, dancing... for the ocean or the wood. I am a veiled delight who needs to be delighted in... and for all the compliments I receive, I am obliged to receive them in half a heart because "I must always be on guard". when can I be flattered? when I can be the delight and not the veil?
--What do you do when you thirst violently? or hunger shamelessly? In the face of soul survival your options become clear. You take up your broken cistern to the nearest filthy well. Or you wait a little longer... in stillness. don't breathe. don't blink. this desire is much too consuming to be glazed over and much too crucial to thoughtlessly appease. Loneliness of this measure spans the Romantic, the parental, the Plutonic. It looks to all three and foolishly pants for such broken cisterns to hold an infinite amount of water which is impossible.
Lord, these moments come and go, where I feel the cold blade at my neck, where I know if I move I will only hurt myself, I will only mess things up. I cast my needs and
dreams and expectations once again upon your merciful name. Inspire me and those who read this to look to you in the midst of great need and know you are the living water, of which we may drink and thirst no more.
In Love
Some recent events have come about and they make me think of you. You dear Jesus. They make me think of you and how you literally take my breath away. How you love me when it doesn't make any sense. How you say all the right words at all the right times and how you snuff out my terrorizing fears of worthlessness with a smile. God, I don't get it. But I love it. I long for it. I need it and it is that perfect love of yours that draws me closer to you. Its seems impossible for me to believe in the full extent of your love, until you come like the swift rescuer on his horse to frown upon my doubt and whisk me away. Sometimes I think I've got you figured out. I think I can predict you, and sometimes I think I can even predict when you will let me down, when you will forget an important detail. and so I step in, I make sure things get done right, make sure you don't find yourse;f in an embarassing situation--only to find that you've already taken care of it all. my face turns red.
no one can love me like you do. no one can know me like you do, all the beauty and all the ugliness. no one could ever know me so completely--and actually stick around.
Thank you for shadows of things to come. for little tastes of the all-fulfilling adventure and romance that will only be found when you usher us into perfection. thank you for letting us-here on earth-see bits of you as we play pretend.
The Word...
you see this term all over the place... in sermons, and scripture, and in well-meaning Christian songs that are out-of-date. it seems commonplace enough in the "Christian world." According to most people, more often than not, the "Word" is simply referring to the Bible... or in a few random instances, to Jesus (John 1:1).
I am personally dissatisfied with these shallow explanations. The Bible... or Jesus? Like saying Apples are synonymous to the proverbial Oranges...
unless, there is more to the word than this "simple," dichotomous definition. Is there a broader understanding of the Word to discover, one which reconciles all the simple answers we've received in Sunday school, one that connects the definitions so that they make some holistic sense. And when the "word" is used before there was canonized scripture, what was God's intended meaning for it then?
I jotted down some random thoughts on the subject the other day, looking for a more encompassing definition,
The Word
broader than a leather-bound red letter edition, The Word... spoken, unspoken, written, unwritten,... is his will, his commands, communication with his people (at times through prophets, at times through canonized scripture), it is his desire,his name, his heart.
Jesus is the living Word, the Word made flesh BECAUSE he's the embodiment of God's Will, God's communicated love, the pronouncement, the will acted and fulfilled, the ultimate and final word about our destiny, and existance, "He sent forth his word and healed them." "The Word of God is living and active."
This is a little deep. but then again so are most of my thoughts... any opinions on the matter?
The Word...
you see this term all over the place... in sermons, and scripture, and in well-meaning Christian songs that are out-of-date. it seems commonplace enough in the "Christian world." According to most people, more often than not, the "Word" is simply referring to the Bible... or in a few random instances, to Jesus (John 1:1).
I am personally dissatisfied with these shallow explanations. The Bible... or Jesus? Like saying Apples are synonymous to the proverbial Oranges...
unless, there is more to the word than this "simple," dichotomous definition. Is there a broader understanding of the Word to discover, one which reconciles all the simple answers we've received in Sunday school, one that connects the definitions so that they make some holistic sense. And when the "word" is used before there was canonized scripture, what was God's intended meaning for it then?
I jotted down some random thoughts on the subject the other day, looking for a more encompassing definition,
The Word
broader than a leather-bound red letter edition, The Word... spoken, unspoken, written, unwritten,... is his will, his commands, communication with his people (at times through prophets, at times through canonized scripture), it is his desire,his name, his heart.
Jesus is the living Word, the Word made flesh BECAUSE he's the embodiment of God's Will, God's communicated love, the pronouncement, the will acted and fulfilled, the ultimate and final word about our destiny, and existance, "He sent forth his word and healed them." "The Word of God is living and active."
This is a little deep. but then again so are most of my thoughts... any opinions on the matter?
I love flowers. I love love love them. and I love that different flowers have been given different meanings. I'm posting the carnation description because it seems like such an overlooked flower. This description gives it some newfound dignity.
Carnations
"Turn of the century dandies would not leave the house without a white or red carnation in the buttonhole of their suit. With the end of this tradition and the fact that carnations are so easily cultivated and grown, the flower has lost some of its popularity. However, carnations are not only beautiful and long lasting flowers, they also send a message: When you receive a red carnation bouquet, it means, "My heart aches for you" and when you receive white carnations the sender is saying: "I am still available."
"Meanings: fascination, devoted Love"
What's your favorite flower?
free fall
I've always wanted to consider myself a risk taker. That is actually one of the things listed on my "things to accomplish before I die" list (Yes, I have such a list, courtesy of my dear high school friends). I say I want to accomplish it, because as of the present, my risk-takings are few and far between. (Honestly, how could potential disaster ever be a natural choice?)
but then, don't you know, there are days, when the blessed fire comes into your eyes, and all of a sudden you are blind. Blindly courageous, blindly determine, blindly foolish even. but by some odd force, you risk! aha! you finally shrug your shoulders, squeeze your eyes shut, what the heck, and you risk.
the interesting place I am in... I believe they call it free fall. Its the awkward midpoint from diving and actually hitting the water. I don't quite know what happens next... pass or fail... jackpot or bankrupt. I really hope I land soon.
I hope your dive is graceful and satisfying-not a belly flop. -av
PS. that last comment was not intended to correct you on your diving technique; it was simply a little light humor.
I just finished watching 2 hours of the food network, so food is on the brain. Healthy eating... in particular is what's "eating" me. pun intended. There are so many different types of "healthy eating" and I want to decide on one of them. I used to be of the "wieght watching" variety, but, wiser, I am on the hunt for the preventative lifestyle--the over-all wellness lifestyle. My question is, what's the best way to eat? I'm throwing ideas out there, some latest trends that sound nice:
no trans-fats or high-fructose corn syrup.
organic dairy and meat products.
lots of fish and lots of water.
avoid fried food and grease
portion control
variety of veggies
a veggie garden?
homemade preserves...
use different GRAINS and seeds.
high fiber and pro-biotic yogurt for digestion.
this is possibly the weirdest fine thought I've written here. by no means is it creative writing, but I'm fascinated by this challenge to eat as healthily as possible. drink acai smoothies for dessert and fresh squeezed carrot juice in the morning. Fresh and natural, avoid preservatives, if God made it eat plenty of it, I think the hippies are onto to something. Now if on;y I had access to all the unique foods in the world and if only it was all reasonably priced. that would make my day.
It is pouring outside. I love to hear the rushing of the rain. a million fat drops fleeing for their lives, or falling to their deaths--chubby little kamokazi pilots that splatter love on your nose.
The millions of them rush and make rain. "Ssshhhhhhhh." Put me to sleep. Let all the responsibilities wash down the gutters and into the city drains. Shut my eyes. Shut out the doings. Let them run along the lines of the ridges of the cement sidewalk and let them empty out into someone else's brain space. wash away the lists and the reminders on my whiteboard and the unresolved conflicts lurking around every corner.
Bath me in that pouring rain
oh please,
in the searing melodies of a favorite song
in the cool escape of a pillows underside
in the company of a divine soul
with a firm hand,
a knowing smile,
and hospitable silence.
"shhhhhh" rushes the rain........
wordswordswordswordswordswordswords
come give method to my madness, or at least justify the existance of it. conjure clever reasons for my unreasonable emotions
Daydream
You are suddenly aware of the corners of you eyes and the mask of your face and the bridge of the nose. Cheeks are drawn up and pulled in like knees before the warmth of a winter bonfire. iris' change shapes like the end of a kaleidescope and eyelids quietly slide shut. Sometimes a smile. but never a conscious smile or a even a voluntary sleep, but you trip into the good past or the kind possible future; never telling just when you glazed over until the phone of the student to your right goes off in class-
reorient yourself with the axis of the planets-you wonder how many hours have gone by, and you trip back out.
I propose that one of western civilization's biggest fears is that their relationships would cease to be romantic. There's pressure to romance (amen, boys?) and pressure to be romanced(gals? can I hear it?) and, in general, pressure to maintain a romantic eye.
fine. I love romance. Romance is a moment that slices your heart open and helps to you to feel vivid emotions that you regularly forget are there. unfortunately, for western civ, they fear the end of romance because according to the expectations of Western civ, romance=relationship.
Ironically, fear and expectation are, in the opinion of some, the best form of SABOTAGE. They choke and kill that very thing that they prize.
It seems to me that we've made too much of something we don't really care about. Let's cut to the chase and talk about what we really want.
how about security?
affectionate thoughts?
respect?
admiration?
devotion?
companionship?
...........Love?
stuff that actually costs more than paychecks and "man-points"
The things that make romantic moments "romantic" are these. We obsess about the moments, and forget the ACTUAL ROMANCE of real love-- like a Jaguar with no wheels.
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels...but have not love, it profits me nothing" I Corinthians 13
We would all do well to let go of Hollywood and realize what it is we really want. Despairing guys who always feel one step behind Brad Pitt, stop wasting your energy on "the moment" they're expecting and put that energy into your love. THINK ABOUT HER. admire and respect her. and then do things that match that. nothing more, nothing less. Stop giving a rip about our expectations, because you'll have the upper hand if you LOVE for real.
and to my own kind, I implore you to believe that you will find no fulfillment in any relationship unless you've FIRST been affirmed in Christ. Everyone will dissapoint you until you realize you're security has been declare by your maker.
But Sort Of
by Janis Adames
I'm Satisfied
Not like I sit here
hungry eyed...
Not like my mind
is occupied...
Not like I can't
stop dreaming...
but sort of...
sort of
sort of
oh!
dignity
dignity
dignity!!!
where did you run off to?
I leave you
one small
second
and suddenly,
I'm hung.
from my toes by twine
arms tied behind
clown nose, a sign:
"get a life!"
my face is red
bib strapped in front
dribble dribble gerber chunks
dribble dribble gerber chunks
"get a life!"
"get a life!"
"get a life!"
Not like I can't
stop dreaming
but sort of
Everyone's Rain
Sometimes the heart breaks for no good reason.
When the minds eye quietly collects the darker corners of its world,
'n accidentally comes to understand someone else's sorrow.
Like a window opens up, someone else's rain pours in.
You're soaking wet in a Searing slice of freezing reality.
So cold its warm
So foreign its familiar
...its like a window opens up, someone else's rain pours in
but its everyones world,
so its everyones rain.
one accidentally open window
to meet another's pain
if it's everyone's world
and everyone's rain
is the wound of our neighbor
ours--one and the same?
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