Well. The school year has started. And so far I'm already a week behind in Algebra II. That's chill.
It's rained a lot in the past weeks. Like. A lot. A lot of people I know find a lot of meaning in the rain. Like it's some sort of religion. I'm not saying that is what people think of rain, it's just what it seems like to me. It's kinda funny. I think rain is cool because I would never have thought of making something that would fall from the sky in tiny liquid pellets. And make everything grow. I suppose that's why God is God. Because He thinks of these things.
My back feels weird.
I think us humans should stop trying to take control of our lives. They're not even ours in the long run. We just get to make the choices.
In all honesty we don't deserve to live. We think we do.
I don't understand everything that goes on in this world. I don't understand what half of my friends feel when they tell me that something is wrong. 10 years ago a lot of people died in the Twin Towers and I can't even begin to understand what the families of dead relatives feel when they think of it. I have friends that don't have parents, or have just one parent. I have friends that have to cut themselves or drink themselves to sleep. I have some friends that are pregnant and don't know what to do. I have friends that don't know left from right because their minds are so screwed up on drugs.
There are people dying and brokenhearted everywhere and all I do is sit back and relax and watch it like it's the next hottest TV show. It's starting to eat away at me. It really is.
This really matters to me. Nothing more in my life besides God has mattered to me more then this. The fact that even though I feel fine, I don't feel the pain of the people I love. I want too. I long too, so that hopefully I can help them. I don't want to be Jesus to them. I just want to be able to do more then just watch.
I want to live by love. Not just sit back and watch my friends roll around in their pain.
I think that's what Jesus would do.
I want to do that too.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
He stares politely back at you, you stare politely right on through...
My house is full of a lot of jars and canning stuff and if you have a good sniffer you can smell the vinegar in the air from mom pickling anything and everything in sight.
It's getting really old.
I like attention. But I don't. I like the thought that people are giving me attention because they love me. It makes me feel like I've been on TV or something like that. But I don't like the attention part of it. Where people like to talk to me a lot. Because quite honestly, I'm a terrible conversationalist. There are very few people I can just spill what's on my mind too. And if I do. Then I think the person I'm talking to is a mannequin or some. There are a couple of people I don't imagine as mannequins. I can have perfectly beautiful conversation with myself when I'm in the shower. I can bring up references and bible verses and things like that when I ramble to myself about what's been on my own mind. It's pretty funny.
I go for walks sometimes down to a little gas station about two miles down the road. It's nothing special and I don't know why I do it because for about three quarters of the walk I have to worry about either dogs, people shooting me for trespassing, or crazy drivers in logging trucks. And I talk to myself the entire way as if someone was walking next to me. It's weird. I just can't talk like that with actual human beings. Just imaginary ones.
Anyways. I love people a lot. I even ventured far enough as to tell my dad that I wouldn't mind a career that would deal with lots of people.
I just don't know how to talk to them.
I find it hard to talk to God too. I think that's kinda sad. I can have hour long conversations with myself about my own problems and I can't even mention stuff like that to God. It's kinda really sad. I think people have had the idea that I talk to God a lot. But in all honesty I don't. I have talked to Him a little bit more lately. I think. Anyways.
I think the reason I can't spill stuff to God is because He's real. I talk to an imaginary person for hours because they're not real. And since I'm a terrible conversationalist I can't talk to God that easy because He is very real. I'm not saying this to make up an excuse for myself. I'm just saying what is on my mind.
I think I'm going to make it a goal this school year to learn to talk to people like they're real. Not mannequins with really realistic skin. And I think I'll try to talk to God like He's real. Not like He can't hear me.
It's my new years resolution.
Because people usually make this in the middle of the year.
It's chill.
Like ice.
It's getting really old.
I like attention. But I don't. I like the thought that people are giving me attention because they love me. It makes me feel like I've been on TV or something like that. But I don't like the attention part of it. Where people like to talk to me a lot. Because quite honestly, I'm a terrible conversationalist. There are very few people I can just spill what's on my mind too. And if I do. Then I think the person I'm talking to is a mannequin or some. There are a couple of people I don't imagine as mannequins. I can have perfectly beautiful conversation with myself when I'm in the shower. I can bring up references and bible verses and things like that when I ramble to myself about what's been on my own mind. It's pretty funny.
I go for walks sometimes down to a little gas station about two miles down the road. It's nothing special and I don't know why I do it because for about three quarters of the walk I have to worry about either dogs, people shooting me for trespassing, or crazy drivers in logging trucks. And I talk to myself the entire way as if someone was walking next to me. It's weird. I just can't talk like that with actual human beings. Just imaginary ones.
Anyways. I love people a lot. I even ventured far enough as to tell my dad that I wouldn't mind a career that would deal with lots of people.
I just don't know how to talk to them.
I find it hard to talk to God too. I think that's kinda sad. I can have hour long conversations with myself about my own problems and I can't even mention stuff like that to God. It's kinda really sad. I think people have had the idea that I talk to God a lot. But in all honesty I don't. I have talked to Him a little bit more lately. I think. Anyways.
I think the reason I can't spill stuff to God is because He's real. I talk to an imaginary person for hours because they're not real. And since I'm a terrible conversationalist I can't talk to God that easy because He is very real. I'm not saying this to make up an excuse for myself. I'm just saying what is on my mind.
I think I'm going to make it a goal this school year to learn to talk to people like they're real. Not mannequins with really realistic skin. And I think I'll try to talk to God like He's real. Not like He can't hear me.
It's my new years resolution.
Because people usually make this in the middle of the year.
It's chill.
Like ice.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
How do we get so far, from the way we used to be?
I'm kinda drained because. I don't know... I'm lazy? Yeah. Cool. I want celery.
I get tired of emotions. Mainly because they create themselves in my soul then decide to try and kill each other. It's weird. That might drain me. I don't know.
I think Jesus put's emotions in us so that we know when something feels right. You know? You know that giving a glass of water to a thirsty person is right because you can just feel it. You know that taking that glass of lovely water away from said thirsty person is wrong because you can just feel it. I think when someone murders someone else they know it's wrong. They feel it deep down inside that's it's wrong you know? Maybe they don't. I'm not inside the soul of a murderer. But you never know.
I feel like me and my generation rape our emotions for all their worth then throw them out the window. It's painful. I don't like it. Why do I do that? Why is that my first and only instinct? No one knows.
I don't think Jesus created our hearts to be that way. I really don't. I think he created them to love a whole lot. And to stay that way and never change. And to love unconditionally and beat down any emotions of hate, pride, selfishness, and anger. Yeah. I think that's right.
I get tired of emotions. Mainly because they create themselves in my soul then decide to try and kill each other. It's weird. That might drain me. I don't know.
I think Jesus put's emotions in us so that we know when something feels right. You know? You know that giving a glass of water to a thirsty person is right because you can just feel it. You know that taking that glass of lovely water away from said thirsty person is wrong because you can just feel it. I think when someone murders someone else they know it's wrong. They feel it deep down inside that's it's wrong you know? Maybe they don't. I'm not inside the soul of a murderer. But you never know.
I feel like me and my generation rape our emotions for all their worth then throw them out the window. It's painful. I don't like it. Why do I do that? Why is that my first and only instinct? No one knows.
I don't think Jesus created our hearts to be that way. I really don't. I think he created them to love a whole lot. And to stay that way and never change. And to love unconditionally and beat down any emotions of hate, pride, selfishness, and anger. Yeah. I think that's right.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Hello, I swear I won't be to long...
After The Storm ~ Mumford and Sons
And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That's why I hold,
That's why I hold with all I have.
That's why I hold.
I will die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and mine so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair...
And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true
But oh no more.
That's why I hold,
That's why I hold with all I have.
That's why I hold.
I will die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Oh God knows where.
Because death is just so full and mine so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair...
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound...
As written by Donald Miller in his book Blue Like Jazz
What great gravity is this that drew my soul towards yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised to earn your keeping, your resting, your will fleshed into mine, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I together to pacify each other, to lead each other toward the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay?
I am not scared of you my love, I am scared of me.
I went looking, I wrote out a list, I drew and image, I bled a poem of you. You were pretty and my friends believed I was worthy of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught to lay your lily hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you, lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed.
I want desperately for you to be my friend. But you are not my friend; you have slid up warmly to the man I wanted to be, the man I pretended to be, and I was your Jesus and you were mine. Should I show you who I am, we may crumble. I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.
I want to be know and loved anyway. Can you do this? I trust by your easy breathing that you are human like me, that you are fallen like me, that you are lonely, like me. My love, do I know you? What is this great gravity that pulls us so painfully toward each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever in fleshing this out? And how will we with words, narrow words, come into the knowing of each other? In this God's what of meriting grace, of teaching us of the labyrinth of His love for us, teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him? Or better yet, has He formed our being fractional so that so that we might conclude one great hope, plodding and sighing and breathing into one another in such a great push that we might break through into the known and being loved, only to cave into a greater perdition and fall down at His throne begging for our acceptance. Begging for our completion!
We were fools to believe that we would redeem each other. Were I some sleeping Adam, to wake and find you resting at my rib, to share these things that God has done, to walk you through the garden, co counsel your timid steps, your bewildered eye, your heart so slow to love, so careful to love, so sheepish that I stepped up my aim and became a man. Is this what God intended? That though He made you from my rib, it is you who is making me, humbling me, destroying me, and in so doing revealing Him.
Will we be in ashes before we are one?
What great gravity is this that drew my heart towards yours? What great force collapsed my orbit, my lonesome state? What is this that wants in me the want in you? Don't we go at each other with yielded eyes, with cumbered hands and feet, with clunky tongues> This deed is unattainable! We cannot know each other.
I am quitting this thing, but not what you think. I am not going away.
I will give you this my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He has loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery, save God's own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep in the warmest chamber of my hear, the very chamber where God has stowed Himself in me, And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.
I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again. I suppose the clock itself will wear thin its time before I am ended at this altar of dying and dying again.
God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand the gravity that drew Him, unto us...
That was long. But its what has been on my mind.
What great gravity is this that drew my soul towards yours? What great force, that though I went falsely, went kicking, went disguising myself to earn your love, also disguised to earn your keeping, your resting, your will fleshed into mine, rasped by a slowly revealed truth, the barter of my soul, the soul that I fear, the soul that I loathe, the soul that: if you will love, I will love. I will redeem you, if you will redeem me? Is this our purpose, you and I together to pacify each other, to lead each other toward the lie that we are good, that we are noble, that we need not redemption, save the one that you and I invented of our own clay?
I am not scared of you my love, I am scared of me.
I went looking, I wrote out a list, I drew and image, I bled a poem of you. You were pretty and my friends believed I was worthy of you. You were clever, but I was smarter, perhaps the only one smarter, the only one able to lead you. You see, love, I did not love you, I loved me. And you were only a tool that I used to fix myself, to fool myself, to redeem myself. And though I have taught to lay your lily hand in mine, I walk alone, for I cannot talk to you, lest you talk it back to me, lest I believe I am not worthy, not deserving, not redeemed.
I want desperately for you to be my friend. But you are not my friend; you have slid up warmly to the man I wanted to be, the man I pretended to be, and I was your Jesus and you were mine. Should I show you who I am, we may crumble. I am not scared of you, my love, I am scared of me.
I want to be know and loved anyway. Can you do this? I trust by your easy breathing that you are human like me, that you are fallen like me, that you are lonely, like me. My love, do I know you? What is this great gravity that pulls us so painfully toward each other? Why do we not connect? Will we be forever in fleshing this out? And how will we with words, narrow words, come into the knowing of each other? In this God's what of meriting grace, of teaching us of the labyrinth of His love for us, teaching us, in degrees, that which He is sacrificing to join ourselves to Him? Or better yet, has He formed our being fractional so that so that we might conclude one great hope, plodding and sighing and breathing into one another in such a great push that we might break through into the known and being loved, only to cave into a greater perdition and fall down at His throne begging for our acceptance. Begging for our completion!
We were fools to believe that we would redeem each other. Were I some sleeping Adam, to wake and find you resting at my rib, to share these things that God has done, to walk you through the garden, co counsel your timid steps, your bewildered eye, your heart so slow to love, so careful to love, so sheepish that I stepped up my aim and became a man. Is this what God intended? That though He made you from my rib, it is you who is making me, humbling me, destroying me, and in so doing revealing Him.
Will we be in ashes before we are one?
What great gravity is this that drew my heart towards yours? What great force collapsed my orbit, my lonesome state? What is this that wants in me the want in you? Don't we go at each other with yielded eyes, with cumbered hands and feet, with clunky tongues> This deed is unattainable! We cannot know each other.
I am quitting this thing, but not what you think. I am not going away.
I will give you this my love, and I will not bargain or barter any longer. I will love you, as sure as He has loved me. I will discover what I can discover and though you remain a mystery, save God's own knowledge, what I disclose of you I will keep in the warmest chamber of my hear, the very chamber where God has stowed Himself in me, And I will do this to my death, and to death it may bring me.
I will love you like God, because of God, mighted by the power of God. I will stop expecting your love, I will simply love. I am giving myself to you, and tomorrow I will do it again. I suppose the clock itself will wear thin its time before I am ended at this altar of dying and dying again.
God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand the gravity that drew Him, unto us...
That was long. But its what has been on my mind.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
I am washed by the water...
WELL. I'm kinda disturbed by what my heart does to me. It's nothing bad but while my physical and mental being is standing still my heart does donuts around it.
I was at CIY again this past week. It moved me. A lot. I don't understand how. I don't understand why. I don't even know why I went this year. I really don't. Yes I wanted to get closer to God and CIY is a great way to learn how to do that. But my intentions were to really just hang out with friends and get out of the house. Honest. I feel terrible for saying that. But it was true. I knew the first night though, as we were seating ourselves in the auditorium, that something was going to be different.
The first year I went it was extremely weird, because it was the first time I spent a week away from home with people I didn't know. I was kinda an outcast and a kid made me cry because he was tougher then me and he proved it when I was being a freak. Hahaha (it's okay to laugh! Go for it! I just did!) Last year was different in the fact that I was learning to sing some sappy songs, I was single, and there were going to be a lot of girls. And I had a cool looking haircut. Don't get me wrong. Both years were ridiculous and definitely helped me with my walk with God. So that's good.
But my intentions weren't the same this year.
We watched a movie called Love Costs Everything about the persecuted Christian church. It was devastating and beautiful all in the same bundle. It was heart wrenching and amazing. I had to do something after watching it. But every time I say that I feel like I'm putting them up as candidates for charity. "we have to pray for them! We have to donate! We have to help them!" don't get me wrong. I'm not saying those are bad things. They aren't. By all means we should donate prayers, money, supplies, and effort to make they're lives easier. However... They don't need our help...
We need theirs...
They have everything they want and need.
God.
That's all that sustains them through back breaking work and constant threats. Yet us dumb American's need the new Ipad 4. Or 5. Or 6. Or which ever one they just made. AGAIN.
They're happy.
We're not.
Something is seriously screwed up here.
I pray that God makes us American's content with everything we have. I pray that He makes us not want anything but Him. We're spoiled rotten brats. And we think we don't need any help. When in reality we need as much help as possible...
Amen..
I was at CIY again this past week. It moved me. A lot. I don't understand how. I don't understand why. I don't even know why I went this year. I really don't. Yes I wanted to get closer to God and CIY is a great way to learn how to do that. But my intentions were to really just hang out with friends and get out of the house. Honest. I feel terrible for saying that. But it was true. I knew the first night though, as we were seating ourselves in the auditorium, that something was going to be different.
The first year I went it was extremely weird, because it was the first time I spent a week away from home with people I didn't know. I was kinda an outcast and a kid made me cry because he was tougher then me and he proved it when I was being a freak. Hahaha (it's okay to laugh! Go for it! I just did!) Last year was different in the fact that I was learning to sing some sappy songs, I was single, and there were going to be a lot of girls. And I had a cool looking haircut. Don't get me wrong. Both years were ridiculous and definitely helped me with my walk with God. So that's good.
But my intentions weren't the same this year.
We watched a movie called Love Costs Everything about the persecuted Christian church. It was devastating and beautiful all in the same bundle. It was heart wrenching and amazing. I had to do something after watching it. But every time I say that I feel like I'm putting them up as candidates for charity. "we have to pray for them! We have to donate! We have to help them!" don't get me wrong. I'm not saying those are bad things. They aren't. By all means we should donate prayers, money, supplies, and effort to make they're lives easier. However... They don't need our help...
We need theirs...
They have everything they want and need.
God.
That's all that sustains them through back breaking work and constant threats. Yet us dumb American's need the new Ipad 4. Or 5. Or 6. Or which ever one they just made. AGAIN.
They're happy.
We're not.
Something is seriously screwed up here.
I pray that God makes us American's content with everything we have. I pray that He makes us not want anything but Him. We're spoiled rotten brats. And we think we don't need any help. When in reality we need as much help as possible...
Amen..
Thursday, July 7, 2011
If Jesus could only wash my feet...
I almost cried more then five times watching a movie the other day. AND. We are out of celery... Again.
Hot tea is wonderful because it's wonderful.
I've been thinking about stuff lately... Some of it completely irrelevant to anything going on in my life, or your life, or anyone else's life for that matter. Isn't that just wonderful? I've been thinking... The same thing that possessed those guys in the Bible to start loving and taking people into the body of Christ is in each one of us. I think it's the Holy Spirit... but no one knows.
I've been listening to weird music, for example I just listened to the entire four and a half minutes of Love The Way You Lie by Eminem and Beyonce. And if you know me then you know that I rarely listen to music like that. I listen to Cady Groves when I'm working and Romance On A Rocketship before I go to bed. ANYWAYS. I'm kinda torn because I see all these musicians and singers wasting their lives away on nothing. The one thing I want is to be standing with all my brothers and sisters lifting our weary gaze to heaven and screaming out our empty songs to the beautiful God who created our hearts.
I don't know what I'm getting at. But it feels deep at the moment. Kinda like that moment when you're a little kid in a big kid pool. And you know if you keep walking out the water isn't going to get anymore shallow then it already is... If that makes sense.
I was at a concert in a bar. John Mark McMillan to be exact. It was a while ago and I have no idea why I'm bringing it up now. ANYWAYS. I was standing there with a bunch of strangers who were drinking beer listening to them and the entire audience singing "World, I've overcome you world!" Over and over again even after John stopped playing and everyone was off stage. It was heart-wrenching. Literally.
Everytime I hear Eminem's songs I pray that one day a man of his influential status would learn of Jesus' beauty and love and come to know Him and sing songs in His home for forever.
It kills my inside feely thingys when I think about the fact that no matter what there will be people left here on earth when Jesus brings me home, and the fact that I can't sing with them for eternity is even more sad. But I want to sing a song with Eminem in heaven. And Beyonce.... And Cady Groves...
This was completely random and somewhat pointless.
Enjoy!
Hot tea is wonderful because it's wonderful.
I've been thinking about stuff lately... Some of it completely irrelevant to anything going on in my life, or your life, or anyone else's life for that matter. Isn't that just wonderful? I've been thinking... The same thing that possessed those guys in the Bible to start loving and taking people into the body of Christ is in each one of us. I think it's the Holy Spirit... but no one knows.
I've been listening to weird music, for example I just listened to the entire four and a half minutes of Love The Way You Lie by Eminem and Beyonce. And if you know me then you know that I rarely listen to music like that. I listen to Cady Groves when I'm working and Romance On A Rocketship before I go to bed. ANYWAYS. I'm kinda torn because I see all these musicians and singers wasting their lives away on nothing. The one thing I want is to be standing with all my brothers and sisters lifting our weary gaze to heaven and screaming out our empty songs to the beautiful God who created our hearts.
I don't know what I'm getting at. But it feels deep at the moment. Kinda like that moment when you're a little kid in a big kid pool. And you know if you keep walking out the water isn't going to get anymore shallow then it already is... If that makes sense.
I was at a concert in a bar. John Mark McMillan to be exact. It was a while ago and I have no idea why I'm bringing it up now. ANYWAYS. I was standing there with a bunch of strangers who were drinking beer listening to them and the entire audience singing "World, I've overcome you world!" Over and over again even after John stopped playing and everyone was off stage. It was heart-wrenching. Literally.
Everytime I hear Eminem's songs I pray that one day a man of his influential status would learn of Jesus' beauty and love and come to know Him and sing songs in His home for forever.
It kills my inside feely thingys when I think about the fact that no matter what there will be people left here on earth when Jesus brings me home, and the fact that I can't sing with them for eternity is even more sad. But I want to sing a song with Eminem in heaven. And Beyonce.... And Cady Groves...
This was completely random and somewhat pointless.
Enjoy!
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