brokenness

He loves me

2010-06-01T23:03:00.001-04:00

I love the King and He loves me!

Desire for the real

2010-04-23T11:29:00.000-04:00

Yearning more of the cake you just tasted is miles apart from yearning for a cake you've only heard of.

Too often we make the gospel and Christ just distant shadows we've heard stories of.

Don't lunge blindly into empty space hoping on chance you'll grasp something - Search, knowing that it is real.

the more you talk

2010-04-15T11:37:00.002-04:00

the likelier it is that you'll say something stupid.

i find this to be very true with people who frequently and often update their twitter, facebook status updates, aim profile away messages, google buzz, and anything of the sort.

----------------------
In other news,

I had an ephiphany in the bathroom today regarding awkward interactions with temperature.

Awkward Warm = when you sit on a toilet seat and it's warm (from previous person's body heat)
Awkward Cool = when you plop a dung and the water splashes back up
------------------------

The above is a great example of how the more you talk, the more likely it is that you'll say something stupid. Thank you

Pale

2010-04-11T21:19:00.000-04:00

There are times when I find things in my life so pale when put up next to you. Really, so pale. So pale that it's depressing. There are other times though when your light just makes everything brighter. But at this moment, everything else pales. Everyone pales. Nothing can hold its worth and all of its existence is lost -- even its shadows.

Breaths are longer and the lung processes slower. Do I have the strength to shout your praise in this disenchanted demise?

What makes it all dark and gloomy is that as everything pales next to Christ, even Christ Himself does not shine bright. If I were an artist, I would draw an amber sun across an ashen sky and its rays would be lost amidst a shroud of clouds.

amigos

2010-03-29T10:45:00.000-04:00

I have great friends.

Probably the best group of friends I can ask for.

Especially the men.

The few lady friends I have, you're awesome too.

But particular praise for the men.

Thank you God. Really..thank you.

cold and hardened.

2010-03-26T16:46:00.000-04:00

i feel this way at times.

i look at various things that happen. walks for cancer. walks against sex slavery. collection against this, marathon against that. Pop stars in support of relief efforts. Teenagers against poverty.

Ack. I see it as all just sympathy fulfillment activities. You know? The sympathetic/empathetic portions of our souls that itches to be satisfied as easily as possible. Is this an unfair judgment? And honestly, almost 90% of the time, I find the action to do very little against or in support of whatever claim/action. I have no research to back this up, but this is how I feel. Don't judge me cause I have all these feelings and never really put in the proper backbone research to qualify my thoughts/feelings. This is me just sharing reactionary feelings to some things.

I really want to go on missions, I do. But not really most of the stuff that goes on. I want to go with real skill sets and long term. I want to be able to apply my experiences, knowledge, and my abilities to a situation and help others. I don't want to just be somewhere. I understand this might be contrary sounding to faith and pure love/help. Or even the modern church sentiment of just go, pray, be and God will use. I don't find this to not be true. I agree. Except, when I sit here thinking about missions, I really want more. I want to help people long-term and with skill sets they find difficult to acquire or tap into due to poverty or just because people don't care enough for them.

This just leads me to ramble. I want to live missionally (is this a real word?). I want everything I learn and absorb to be something that I can pour back out into communities and people in positive ways. This gives me a real passion to improve as a person and to learn more. And most importantly, to always pray that God be the motive and center of my life.

But you know honestly.. all this rambling and thoughts, when I really look at the core of it all, is because I think highly of myself at times (a mix of arrogance and confidence). I feel like I have so much more to offer than I give at usual mission trips. I also want to be in the thick of things. Not on the outside doing support, raise-some-money marathons. Stick me in the middle, make me aware of the realities, and let me a direct agent of change in that reality. That is my hope.

But really more than belief in myself, I've always believed God can do great things through me if I allow Him.

With all this said, I have nothing really against any of the things I mentioned. Well, maybe, personally I do. But nothing at all against the people involved in it. I really admire what people are doing. Keep it up. Personally, just for who I am, I just want to be involved differently.

complaints

2010-03-09T17:01:00.000-05:00

my finger is ugly and still hurts.
my job makes my brain melt.
i have a moderately sized gut.
i do not want to spend beautiful days in the office.

and so on and so forth.

yet he has placed in me Phillipians 4. Rejoice

It is well with my soul.

routine

2010-02-18T11:24:00.003-05:00

Everyday the boy wakes up, breathes, eats, breathes and lays his head back to sleep. Scattered between these five actions are other actions that differ from day to day, but when taken up as a whole are all the same group of actions on random repeat.

He realizes and a thirst for novelty awakens. "Truth is novel," he says. He yearns for the real, but searches for it on the abstract edges where searching is most exhilirating. With the searching begins rampant dreams. Some said outloud because sometimes when things are loud/big enough, we believe in it. Others said outloud as some form of a purging or cleansing process always followed by a long sigh, thick with doubt.

Dreaming and searching then become a part of the melting pot of actions that make life so routine for the young boy.

As a result, searching for truth ceases -- but it happens without the boy's knowing. Unaware, he keeps searching, but little does he know that he is only searching for novelty...and not truth.

Something new. Something beyond normal. Something different. I feel it all escapes us far too much.
At the same time, I think all of us wants routine, just not the routine we have now--it's either the wrong things or the wrong order.

note on the slight 'nonsensicalness' of this entry: Sometimes you write, and your writing transcends your thoughts and when you re-read it, it's not that it doesn't make sense...it's just that you don't fully understand it yet.

such little understanding of grace.

2010-02-16T13:56:00.000-05:00

at times i feel far from being a 'sinner free'.

I feel like a sinner locked up, trapped up, and without much hope. That makes me want to lie face down away from God and whisper for his forgiveness -- trembling in doubt and a pitiful feeling as I tell myself, "I fully understand if you don't accept me now".

These feelings don't come from grave, 'serious' sins. But 'small', 'little' ones that bring me back to the dark corners within me. There is no measurable scale on sin, but I believe there are certainly some things that bring us faster to our shadows than others.

"Grace," I yell. "Grace," I scream. I raise my voice louder to extract from the volume some kind of conviction and belief, but layered under the loud yelling is just a hollow hope that echoes a fading desire for something to be real.

Rather... today, I feel and yearn for only your mercy. Father, I understand your wrath and reluctance if ever it exists within your heart.

"Mercy..." I whisper it softly through my trembling lips.

I do not understand Your grace, but praise be to You for it.

sah-seum

2010-02-08T01:04:00.000-05:00

As the deer panteth for the water so my soul longeth after You.
You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship You.

power of the cross

2010-01-26T11:49:00.000-05:00

Lately, I have found myself gazing more at the cross. And I find no beauty in it.

Gruesome. Ugly. Gross. Weak.

What worth was placed in me that death on two intersecting pieces of dead wood was deemed 'perfect love'?

Beautiful Lord. Your light shines bright and makes corners that were once dimly lit pitch black. There is no grey area within me that have hints of hope or love. I am a vanishing mess of black.

Thanks be to God for promise of new hope -- a wholly new creation. No fixing, no glue, no mess; all is discarded and I am made new -- like the virgin Mary, new life has been borne within me without cause.

Praise be to God.

worship

2010-01-01T22:47:00.000-05:00

Singing songs and basking in your worship reminds me of what it feels like to do what I was created for. It strangely brings me comfortably to foundations I do not know much of -- like finding absolute comfort in a stranger's bed. This is where I belong. This is where I was meant to roll around in joy all along.

In 2010, may I approach you ever boldly in prayer with an unrelenting faith in it. May I sing worship to you in awesome wonder and love.

hush

2009-12-22T11:01:00.000-05:00

I didn't want to say because I didn't want one to think that it would change me. It does not. I am still who I am, and I have neither grown more humble nor proud. Talking about it only makes me uncomfortable because I see how one perceives me changes -- both for good and bad. Public perception and status sucks. I don't want more or less of your respect because of what happened. So hush I will be because I have this thing inside of me that wants to prove to all that it does not change me. Only Christ does.

I feel as if lately I have been getting disappointed in so many things. I realized disappointment for me often happens when I feel like I am in a place of 'right'... so to speak. A sense of righteousness and entitlement almost goes hand in hand with my disappointments. So, when I do feel disappointed, I often have to remind myself to step back, think, understand, and love. Yet, in a way unknown to me, I feel like I've lost this ability or more so, lost the drive to will this refining process in me. Why? I don't know. This whole thing makes me feel like a more bitter person.

Is it any wonder that without you, I feel darker? Without you more empty, yet less desperate? Starving, but a loss of hunger? Without you, the instinct to live disappears. Father, you know me and the depths of my hearts. Search me and when you find me, please nourish me. Love me tender for I am still tattered and torn.

I am thankful cause I still have this urge for your intimate touch -- at least, I didn't lose that. Thank you...

resentment

2009-12-15T10:41:00.000-05:00

i will be the first to admit that i have my own insecurities. I think everyone does.

However, people who are wholly insecure annoy the crud out of me. People who just constantly want attention annoy me too. People who are dumb and incapable also annoy me. People who are socially awkward, although usually bearable and funny, becomes really annoying when in mix with any of the three aforementioned characteristics.

Somehow, my officemate is all four.

I resent it. GAH!

"What do I know of holy?"

2009-12-07T15:43:00.000-05:00

this song is great.

i love the lyrics:
"I think I've made you too small, I never feared you at all. If you touched my face, would I know you; looked into my eyes, could I behold you? What do I know of you who spoke me into motion? Where have I even stood but the soil along your ocean. Are you fire or are you fury? Are you sacred, are you beautiful?

And the girl who sings it, sings with such a pleading and dismayed, yet curious and hopeful voice. It's a song that comes to grips with realizing the distance from God, but also realizing there IS a greater intimacy that she has yet to come close with but desperately longs for.

Jesus, I love you and I want you, but what do I know of holy? What do I know of you?

Trick

2009-12-03T11:28:00.000-05:00

I pulled off the greatest heist since Ocean's 11.

A trick so well done, it is surreal.

switchfoot

2009-11-24T21:57:00.001-05:00

switchfoot - hello hurricane.

i am in love again. i love switchfoot... 3 out of their last 4 albums (exception being 'oh! gravity' which I thought was mediocre) have been absolute rock star quality

Everyone please listen to Switchfoot - Free. Something about its melody really makes me feel like i am being freed...

I love this line:

There's a hole in the neighborhood where shadows fall
There's a hole in my heart but my hope is not in me at all
I had a dream that my chains were broken , broken, broken open

dark

2009-11-23T10:52:00.000-05:00

The most pessimistic, negative, and darkest thing I have heard in my entire life is the quote, "You started dying the moment you were born." Or something along those lines...

Man...that is dark.

random

2009-11-16T19:40:00.000-05:00

Everyday is a struggle to love.

I am done with my apps. Or at least a good chunk of them, and I am so relieved.

I think everyone needs to take time to look outside of themselves -- not just some time, a LOT of time.

The best way to avoid ourselves is to focus on others (this is not a good thing) -- whether it be negatively (trash talk, anger, hate) or positive (effusive praise, prayer requests, idolatry).

Accepting ourselves is essentially the same thing as asking ourselves to realize that we suck.

It's easy to ask everyone to make hard decisions when you put yourself in a position where your decision is easy.

No, it's not the truth. It's what you would like for to be the truth - your truth, your version, your angle, your way.

Don't judge too quickly. Don't really judge at all. But don't be a foolish smiley nice guy and call everyone happy people. Discern wisely at all times.

Yes, discerning people is different from judging. How? I think I know, but I am not clear enough to put it in words. Educate me if you are so clear.

I think we all play too much hide-and-seek. What do I mean? I mean that we hide ourselves and look at others too much.

The opposite doesn't exactly work either, but I do think it's better: Seek ourselves and hide others.

I think it's difficult to love people when you can't accept yourself.

Honesty is tougher, because honesty is less and less valued. The value of honesty has to be realized first before honesty takes its bold course.

without love

2009-11-06T09:42:00.000-05:00

I need to be more gentle. Slower, warmer, and less edgy around the corners. Sometimes, I look at myself and find myself highly abrasive. I think it's indicative of my insecurities of seeming weak and unable. My heart motive for respect.

Q: How was Jesus so edgy, passionate, and confidently decisive, yet so gentle, approachable and warm?
A: He loved with a love that I cannot even begin to understand

I need to love more, and not try to change conditions and habits of mine. I am who I am, only love can affect me. What is it that 1 Cor. 13 says that I love so much? Without love, everything is just a resounding gong or a clashing of the cymbals? A resounding gong is dull, repetitive, ineffective, without meaning, and I think slightly irritating to always hear. On the other hand, a clashing of the cymbals is highly abrasive, irritating, overbearing, loud, and edgy.

And clearly, the passage was not asking to find a medium between the two, but already presenting that medium by prefacing that statement with.."without love".

I need to love. Not love more, 'cause just loving is hard enough.

Practicing Hate

2009-11-02T10:00:00.000-05:00

If I had to do a series of posts on what an evil man I am, this blog would have many more posts. But it is strangely wholly reviving and cathartic for me--so here is post #1.

To box out my office mate (whom I have much trouble loving), I stick in my super hi-fi noise cancelling headphones and scroll to Artist: Tim Keller (aren't I so awesome and righteous?) and listen to a sermon. And then I keep my eyes still, straight ahead, and when he tries to get my attention I pretend I cannot hear or see him. It is an effective box out... until he taps my shoulder.

This has to be hypocrisy at its best. I lock myself in with "Jesus". I sit and want to be loved, feel loved, but the last thing I want to do is love. This isn't even avoiding love; this is how I practice hate, and sadly this is only one of many ways I do it. And sometimes, listening to Tim Keller or whatever Christian smorgashborg it might be, it makes the hating feel okay. What a completely brainwashing crazy thing a pair of noise-cancelling earphones can do.

I have to learn not only to step outside my own comfort zones, but be able to step inside others' comfort zones. Christ stepped out of his form as God, and entered so willingly the realm of sin, and then took the hit to become and die as the sinner.

tough to love

2009-10-28T10:07:00.000-04:00

Some people are tough to love.

Jesus, how did you do it?

beyond description

2009-10-20T00:50:00.000-04:00

You are beautiful beyond description,
Too marvelous for words,
Too wonderful for comprehension,
Like nothing ever seen or heard

Who can grasp your infinite wisdom?
Who can fathom the depths of your heart?

You are beautiful beyond description...

Luke 9:24

2009-10-15T00:53:00.000-04:00

International Justice Missions (IJM) - Gary Haugen

“Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness…Kindness merely as such cares not whether its object becomes good or bad, provided only that it escapes suffering.” -C.S. Lewis

An excerpt from the article linked above (I underlined what I really liked):

Sometimes the will of God is scary because he’s asking us to choose between a life that looks successful and a life that is actually significant. A life that wins the applause of our peers or a life that actually transforms lives through love. In Washington, DC, I think, one of the most exalted positions of life is actually becoming a Senator. Really though, history shows that you can actually be a senator of just about no significance. Sometimes it’s just confusing. Are we seeking success or significance? Jesus tried to be clear about all of this with his disciples. He said in Luke 9:24 “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.”
Another colleague of mine, Sean, calls himself a mad scientist of this divine paradox. See, the hypothesis is that you’ll find your life when you lose it. So Sean decided to throw his life away, and being a proper mad scientist, tried first by doing an experiment and testing it on himself … and then on his wife and two kids. [Laughter.] Let me share with you how he said it: “IJM needed people to go overseas. I was not so afraid of going as I was to coming back. I was at the top of my profession;, I could do anything I wanted.” He was with one of the premier law firms here in town. “If I went overseas for three or four years to work for some little Christian group, I was sure I would come back to a crappy job, work with crappy people, live in a crappy house, and wear crappy slacks as I drink my crappy coffee while driving my crappy car. [Laughter.] But I just thought, ‘if I can rescue one child from the unspeakable horror of forced prostitution, it would outweigh any sacrifice I could possibly make.’ How could any sacrifice I make, how could it possibly compare to the daily abuse and suffering of a child locked in a brothel forced to serve four to seven customers a day? It was like math,” he said. “No emotion. I did not have the faith to believe that God could somehow provide for me and that I might even find joy in it. No, I just expected to be lonely and to suffer. But I signed on to try and save that one child.”

At times, my heart pounds with how God might and can use me. At other times, my heart pounds in fear that the last thing I will abide by is His will. Not really the riches part, more the "I'm more comfortable with status quo."

You can read more about IJM at www.ijm.org

writing

2009-10-07T15:27:00.000-04:00

I enjoy writing. Yet, when I try to write an essay to gain admission into a school, it becomes a whole new ordeal. I hate writing to please. I hate writing while my mind is racing with thoughts on grammar, punctuation and word use. I want to just write -- free flow. Flow free. Fly. I want to fly with thoughts on what I am writing and not how I am writing. When I draw, I want to draw with simply the thought of what I am drawing and not how. Without the thoughts of, which paint brush? Long stroke? Short stroke? Circle or oval? Square or rectangle? Darker or lighter? The process is maddening. Just give me paper and pen and let me scream -- express and without delay.

I want to express myself without worrying about the damning how's.

Maybe that's why I've never been too good at the arts. Or when people ask me, how do you pray? Sometimes I give flowery answers to make it sound more nice, but all I am really saying is -- just pray. Other days, I don't feel too good and spit out, "I just do it." How? I'm not concerned about the how, I'm really concerned about the who......aren't you?

wine is better aged

2009-10-01T16:20:00.001-04:00

Only time can age the wine.

One can try to perfect the temperature and humidity of the wine cellar, but again, only time can age the wine. You can shake it, stir it, expose it to more sunlight, store it under the cellar's wooden boards. Whatever the case, time cannot be expedited nor rushed. Maybe there's a chemical now that can speed the process? If there is, I remain dubious to such a chemical.

You can alter the settings and properties and what not, but there is only one constant that promotes change in wine, and that is time. All other factors are probably a good indicator of what kind of wine we may end up bottling.

Still, the issue may not lie in what we end up bottling, but when. Some of us bottle it up early, before time has taken its course, and carry around our grape extracts bottled too soon in dark, opaque, expensive wine bottles with a fresh cork stuck at the top. The deception, however, only lasts up until the moment we twist out the cork and invite others for a taste. They will swirl it in their mouths and swish it around their tongues longer than the norm. Like little children, they will grin and lean to each others sides and murmur, "Is this what I think it is?" until one will raise his voice and suggest that what they are drinking may just be grape juice. Affirmative nods are shared around the room by everybody except for the once-proud owner of this exquisite-looking bottle of wine. His eyes find shame on the floor and he silently curses his soul for the impatience that led him to bottle it a decade early. "It's too sweet, too tart, too fresh," they continue on in whispers loud enough to remind him to keep his eyes glued to the floor.

-----
I feel like this is me. I bottle things too early. I think I'm already there, or already here. But I sit here, and I remind myself that I am far from it. I must let myself age, and not be so instantly satisfied with what and who is around me and in front of me. Let things soak in. Too often I am deceived to believe that if I surround myself with good instruction, upstanding role models, encouraging advice, life lessons, and loving friends and family then instantly this new me is born out. Maybe that's exaggerating, but its that notion to a lesser degree. Regardless, I have learned, time and time again, for it to be wrong. I must let myself age.

Or maybe, this cycle is precisely how the human soul ages.

I don't know. Yet, I do know one thing: I am an absolute fool.

just

2009-09-24T14:48:00.000-04:00

'Just'. I don't write of it today as an adjective that stems off the word 'justice' but write of it as an adverb. For example: I 'just' want to write about the word, just.

"In the end, I just want to have a good job." I heard this from a teenager recently and felt it to be the saddest, most self-undercutting statement I have heard in a while. His teenage youth only added weight to his words that carried undeniable overtones of hopelessness. Maybe hopelessness is too extreme to say. Lost dreams that never even materialized may be more accurate.

That quote wrenched my heart. It's different for one to say, "I want to have a good job" as opposed to "I just want to have a good job".

The contrasting juxtaposition is similar to be at a great feast and hear a young boy with a still-high timbre in his voice say, "I want the rice pudding..and..and..." all while the elderly grandfather murmurs for just the easily-digestible rice pudding. For the young boy, as he asks this, his eyes are darting around the dinner table. His eyes and nose cannot settle on any one thing and he has trouble asking for what it is he wants -- until he stammers, "I.. I..I just want it all." The grandfather looks on, already three and a half spoonfuls into his pudding and realizes that 'all' for him is confined merely to the rest of the pudding that is left in his bowl -- just the rice pudding.

When we qualify our statements with 'just', it's almost always limiting. It's synonymous with only, exactly, precisely, barely, perhaps and possibly. Everything about it points to the cracks where hope leaks. Where hope, unaware to us, escapes and goes on to be misplaced until we believe that hope lies in "just" something; whether it be good grades, a job, or even a nice family.

I speak on behalf of genuine hope when I say that it actively lies in everything - waiting for its moment to empower and enable faith. However, at the end, the little boy broke all the limiting effects of 'just'. As he struggled to grasp a way to have everything that was presented before him on the dining table, hope interjected and he clamored that he just wanted it all.

more thoughts on grace

2009-08-24T14:37:00.000-04:00

It is tough to let grace be, without having our hands lunging and trying to grasp it, mold it, and bottle it for our own good. Tough to let grace roam around as it tempts our desire for mastery and irks our previous notions of freedom.

And then there are those rare moments we let grace be -- through some glorious, incomprehensible, and wonderful way -- we let grace just be itself. And when this happens, something wholly outside of ourselves happens, and yet still, it is some of the most inwardly impacting moments of our lives.

Then, as we look back, though we just experienced it, it's so tough to credit grace. We look back and languish about the failures and disjunctive moments. And the last sentence we would believe in our hearts is that "Grace abounded where we failed the most."

But there are those who silently look on with eyes that look upwards and mouths that have run dry from being kept open both in awe and unworthy-felt mutters of gratitude.

grace

2009-08-23T00:25:00.001-04:00

To know that grace is enough and to profess it in our personal theological beliefs is one thing -- to LET grace be enough is a whole different realm.

To LET my efforts simultaneously be lifted and dissolved by grace is difficult.

However, when reminded that this concept of grace is all that I had left to save me, it brings me back with my face planted deep under the ground. Humility strikes the heart like a pounding hammer, and reminds me of the depths that I have been freed from.

It's the moments when we do let grace be enough -- that's when the gospel really shines. That's when what and who we are mean less, and what and who we worship become meaningful. And lastly, it's easier to let grace be enough, when we more fully understand how much 'grace' (if it can be at all quantified) was needed to bring forth salvation in our lives.

Lord, take it.

2009-08-11T11:31:00.001-04:00

here's my heart lord
take and seal it
seal it for thy courts above...

thin

2009-07-21T12:56:00.001-04:00

Feeling like I am skating on thin ice, and it annoys me when people push me back on the ice, asking me to take another skate across one more time. I feel as if they push me with no care of how the thin the ice may look. I skate across, and the ice curls into shavings as my skates glide over. At first it was a joy to be the first to shave the once smooth, clean palette of ice. Now, I only fear that soon, there won't be much ice to shave any longer.

Selfish

2009-05-24T22:02:00.000-04:00

I look at myself and my tongue retreats to the back of my throat in fear of the taste of the bitter, selfish angst I see. Hiding is not difficult. Coming out of hiding and pretending to have never hidden is.

Everything that I am and was about is slowly becoming second-rate and less important. I am valuing the wrong things, placing trust in unwarranted affections. When I was younger, I strived to write and communicate better because I wanted to fully express all my thoughts, feelings, and emotions in the most clear, comprehensive way possible. Now, I look to bend and twist words better in order to hide what I really want to say; in order to convolute my thoughts to the public. I want to bare naked my thoughts and strip myself to honesty, but when I think of this, I wonder what is left of me. When I chip away all the rust, will I remain? So I let the rust build upon itself--into something corrosive and unsightly--and will one day not even remember there was once a person beneath the orange buildup of metallic dust.

edit:

praise God, His blood will renew me and make me whole. I will not return to search for a part of me that I miss for I am a new creation. I will not return to leftover dessert, but to a banquet. Praise be to Him, His mercies are endless and His grace unreasonable. My God's irrational care for me is my only lifeline, and the only cause that effects me to worship in joy.

Short

2009-04-20T21:47:00.001-04:00

Life is incredibly short.

Not to be pessimistic, or small-minded, but the greater I understand the scale of life, and its incredible smallness, the larger every moment of life becomes.

Equality

2009-04-13T22:36:00.000-04:00

When we seek equality, it is strange. When a child says to his peer in an innocent game of kickball, "Hey, these teams are not fair!", the child says so because of one of either 2 reasons. One, is that the bitterness of losing leads the child to seek for an outlet of his frustration, or two, the child finds himself bored in face of the overwhelming victory that came without a bead of sweat or effort. Either way, the child then seeks 'equality'... for his own betterment.

Perhaps the example above is unfair, inaccurate, or too assumptive. Whatever it is, the truth is this: that when one seeks equality, one rarely seeks it for the equality of one's fellow brother. When we seek equality, we desire to bring people up, or bring people down--somewhere, at some level, that is comforting to us. Discomfort always makes us feel different--and difference, often times silently whispers inequality to us until we are persuaded as is. We create situations and circumstances that justify the definition of inequality we have formed in our thoughts.

When we seek equality, whether for others or ourselves, we are implying that we understand and know definitively of a higher standard. It is almost pompous, and arrogant, and yet our 'search for equality' makes us feel as if we are pursuing a noble act. It is a great trick, a great illusion.

What brings about equality that is noble and genuine is found in its antithesis--inequality. The recognition of universal inequality, that wholly includes ourselves, is in an incredible equalizer. And in this recognition, there is no implied knowing of a higher standard, but a humble acknowledging that we are no different from each other; no higher, no lower, we all lean the same way. And with this recognition comes a humility that sobers us to things greater than ourselves. It is in this place, where inequality is found and recognized, that ironically, equality itself is found. Rather than the whispers of inequality creating a rebound effect towards searching to create equality, we must hear the more gentle, honest whispers of inequality and let it draw us back to the ground we all stand from.

"This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus" Romans 8:22-24

It is in Church, where too often equality is sought after blindly--like sheep we are led astray by the disguised act of nobleness that bears no fruit.

Softer

2009-04-08T09:17:00.000-04:00

Today the heart is softer, but there is no carefree, airy lightness to it. It will not float on through and above clouds and parallel to the flight of birds. It is not carefree, and will not dance with the sunlight upon the surface of the lake. Today, the heart is softer--but not lighter. Like a new pillow, it has been given a new Egyptian cotton threaded cover and plumped up with extra Goose feather fillings. It has just been put through a run in the local laundromat dryer, and one can feel its warmth and softness.

Softer, but not lighter. But not heavy either. It is heavy enough to not feel cheap in the palm of one's hand, and light enough to comfortably store in one's pocket. Today, the heart is softer. Wrinkles of love and care have set in today, and broken in the once stiff, new fabric.

Today, I have been blessed with a grain of wisdom: to know how important it is to allow a heart to be affected, wrinkled, and softened--but not stained. Let love permeate and give value to my heart--and not make it lighter and leave it without purpose or intent. The lightness of it all is only felt through the added strength because of new found value and meaning; our legs take fuller, stronger strides and we lift our chins to breathe in the crisper air.

rest

2007-07-28T03:30:00.001-04:00

The sun is getting ready to break the dark and yet my eyes rest open at this hour. I forgot how soothing music was as I sit here and try to make a mix CD for a trip tomorrow.

I haven't written here forever, and my writing is raw, rugged and ugly. I'm struggling to write how I feel but one word sums it up: restlessness.

My heart has been tugged in so many directions lately and my body has listlessly followed. I have not accomplished anything. Each blink of my eye carries with it another worry. I have juggled my desires and wants and left my mind, body, and soul restless for something with substance; something real.

Yes, God is good and His presence is as real as it is soothing. Still, I am broken and completely in need of something that will bring my body a soothing rest. I drop my head, lower my shoulders, look up at the ground in front and I whisper out, "I beg...".

I beg.

rant: "considering You"

2007-04-30T02:15:00.000-04:00

cause for the first time, in a long time, in this bitter disgrace of wrecked emotion i am considering You. i am considering You to be the cause of all the wreckage, the loneliness and the despair. but that foolishness quickly subsides and all i am left to do is beg you the question of why you leave me in darkness to rot afoul. to battle this loneliness of which was once solitude moments with you--now it is loneliness that is separated and afar from you. my soul cries for you to be near, yet it bitterly screams at the things you have allowed. it's hard for me to conceive of you being almighty, all powerful and loving today. for if you were all three, my alpha and omega, then how have you let me fall here; have you led me here yourself? i am full of questions and aching desires but right now in this moment when the aching has come so close to being numb i realize that today i am considering you. despite my pain and anguish, i am considering you. my jealous God, what am i but a speck to you? but yet you've grieved yourself the pain to see me fall into this wretched condition...all so that i can finally consider you once again. You are my God, and the reason for my breath... be near. Your love is sweet to my soul.

Jesus

2007-03-14T02:54:00.000-04:00

There are a lot of things I have been wanting to write about. But yet, whenever I sit in front of my computer all these thoughts fade. My clever stories, my witty imagery, and my fresh humor that I had planned so well in my head to write about quickly disappear when I sit down and try to write. I try so hard to impress myself through my writing. Sometimes, it makes me feel more adequate, more sufficient, more unique but accepted. Yet, when I sit down to write, my soul always yearns a little deeper. Something about taking my thoughts and feelings and trying to materialize it to ink on paper forces me to dig deeper, reason more, and widen my perspective. And as a result, all this superficial trash I had in my mind fades and I only want to write about one thing: Jesus.

For some reason unknown to me, I wanted to keep this blogger free of religious thoughts and views. I wanted filled with clever ideas, funny stories, meaningful thoughts, and etc. But here I am with only word on the tip of my tongue: Jesus. Why? Because that's all that really is meaningful to me. And tonight, that is all I have to write.

Jesus

love

2007-01-17T02:03:00.001-05:00

what about love is so difficult? To see that love is more encompassing than the chit-chat fun of boy and girl. More than love of mother to child. Love is the answer, the movement, the awakening, the beginning, the response, and the end. And yet, so much of our lives are based on compelling ourselves and each other with guilt and the poisoning of our conscience.

Do what you may, but without love, it is simply a clamoring of noise.

faith

2007-01-09T03:36:00.000-05:00

am i a fool to believe in this? to believe that this God is real, and to live life for Him is indeed worthy?

if i really do believe that this is worth it then why do i lead my life in this fashion? lukewarm, tepid. transformation has occurred and yet, at best, i am a frog swimming deep in the water unaware that i am no longer a tadpole. until i begin to lose my breath, my lungs collapse, and i force myself up, and take a gasp of air. it is only then when i realize that perhaps i was meant to live above the suffocating waters--but no, i will return to my familiar drowning.

my God, my God. be near.
i will pray, rededicate, redevote
for You alone are worthy.
what is familiar and comfortable i will leave behind
for what is worthy.

wisdom in a word

2006-10-30T13:21:00.001-05:00

some word creator had the genius to put 'rest' in restoration.

Remnants

2006-10-26T00:02:00.000-04:00

what are we placing our happiness on?

we place it on stools that lift us higher and heels that make us taller.
deposit our insecurities in things that may return to us more than the fumbling identity we lunge at with open hands. It works.

It works because we can feel the return. We can throw our hands in the air and let pieces of what we're striving for move through our fingers. It's like the boy who runs around the shore and relishes in finally feeling an ocean mist brush his face; how different from the dry air that sucks his breath away.

As if you got up too fast, the world begins to shake, you're losing your balance and you begin to search and feel for the ground under you. It must be your stool.

Don't blame the stool, stand up.

Stand up, but don't blame your heels. You're still standing on them, and they didn't break. Sit back down, the stool is still holding up your body frame. You feel the world go up again, leaving you in your ditch again, forgotten. The floor beneath you is sinking and tommorow you think you'll invest in a higher, stable slab of ground.

All for the ocean mist to speak to our lonely pale cheeks. All for the remants of what we've been offered.

So before tommorow begins, I tell you:

The ocean is yours.
Tommorow you may stand on the ocean floor with your head above the waters.

the first

2006-10-23T19:49:00.000-04:00

this is the first.
mumbo jumbo.

broken, we attempt to live standing straight. striving for dignity and name, while casting humility away with the rest of the bait. looking to catch the bigger fish, we find ourselves in a nylon-tangled mess. plucking our fingers into the tangled string, hoping to create some harmony for the time being. so that once again we may cast away humility as our bait, down deep into the ocean, because there lie the bigger fish.

So on the jettison, we sit as the waves whisper about lost humility. about men who cast humility and had their lines snapped, to walk back home with nothing to show.

humility should bait us, but we let pride anchor us. yet, like all men, in the end, we learn the value of humility. and most learn to cast it for themselves. only a few men are baited.