More Negative Drivel

My eyes have been opened recently to the magnitude of my negativity. I could sit here and blame it on being raised listening to to my mom's family sit around and talk negatively about this person/place/thing or that person/place/thing. That probably has had its influence in some way. I could blame a little on nurture and a little on nature. Blame is a nice finger-pointing position up until the point that I see it doesn't change the reality of my current situation and the reality of perceptions of me that don't rely so heavily on my sources of blame. It may not be my fault in some ways that I am who I am and that may seem unfair, but I think C.S. Lewis would use that as another example of how Satan gets a foothold.

Lately I've been getting really sick of myself and I've especially been getting sick of being sick of stuff. I'm sick of disliking churches. I'm sick of disliking Christianity. I'm sick of my fixations on people/things. I'm sick of my lack of ambition. I'm sick of believing I deserve better. I'm sick of my doubt. I'm sick of being prone to doubt. I'm sick of the negativity here in saying that I'm sick of everything.

I may even be sick of honesty. Sometimes I think if I were less jaded and more prone to trusting, believing, having faith and all that then I would probably be much more useful in this life, and I would probably have more joy. I wonder if there actually is any intended purpose in me being who I am right now. Sometimes I want to be better but most of the time I don't want that enough to actually work toward that end.

My mom told me once that I would probably have so much joy being a missionary. I have reservations about that. I know how fickle I can be. Camp was one of the most joyous experiences of my life, but I rarely spent alone time with God--even as much as that was encouraged by all of my superiors and my peers alike. I still don't spend all that much alone time with God, and when I do it's usually full of a lot shame on my end at how much my thoughts and actions show that my allegiance doesn't appear to be where I want to say it is. I feel like I'm spiritually a 5-year-old all the time. My mom tells me to say sorry to that little girl whose feelings I hurt and I mutter a half-hearted, "Sorry." I'm half-hearted in my relationship with God so usually I sit waiting for an alarm to awaken my latent soul.



"Roll Away Your Stone" -Mumford & Sons

Roll away your stone, I’ll roll away mine
Together we can see what we will find
Don’t leave me alone at this time,
For I'm afraid of what I will discover inside

Cause you told me that I would find a hole,
Within the fragile substance of my soul
And I have filled this void with things unreal,
And all the while my character it steals

Darkness is a harsh term don’t you think?
And yet it dominates the things I see

It seems that all my bridges have been burned,
But you say that’s exactly how this grace thing works
It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart,
But the welcome I receive with the restart

Darkness is a harsh term don’t you think?
And yet it dominates the things I see
Darkness is a harsh term don’t you think?
And yet it dominates the things I've seen

Stars hide your fires,
These here are my desires
And I won't give them up to you this time around
And so, I’ll be found with my stake stuck in this ground
Marking the territory of this newly impassioned soul

But you, you’ve gone too far this time
You have neither reason nor rhyme
With which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine

Something Pretty

Painting again! Currently I'm working on a painting for one who must not be named (for the just in case circumstance that this person is reading these words right now), and I got very excited at the idea of making a playlist for the painting. Then I started thinking how cool it would be to not only have the playlist for my listening pleasure and inspiration while painting but to also burn it to a disc and make it an accompanying gift with the painting. I'll probably start doing this, but for this particular painting, I found myself pulled solely to Enya (you're welcome or sorry to you-who-must-not-be-named (timely HP reference))--perhaps by the nature of the painting. But I think mostly it was me yearning for something pretty.

Now, there is a song called "Something Pretty" by Patrick Park. It's not really a great song, but I got hooked on it at some point this summer when I borrowed one of those OC season mixes from the library and got the song then. I walked to my first class this semester listening to this song on repeat, not recognizing the lyrics' foreshadowing for the culmination of my learning experiences this semester. Most of the song is pretty depressing... all about loneliness and ugliness and stuff, but mostly the singer begs for [you] to "show me something pretty." I didn't know then that I would be begging the same thing now at the end of the semester. I especially didn't know I'd be begging it of myself.

I'd probably have to write a lot and somehow acquire a lot of patience I don't have in order to fully unfold what I'm trying to get at, so that's not likely to happen. As I said last year, I become extra attuned to blessings and moments of nostalgia before breaks. Just a few minutes ago, I got a text from my freshman year roommate Adrienne that reads, "Listening to the song 'The Milkmaid," reminds me of you and good old freshman year.'" Me too, Adrienne, me too. In some ways I actually look back on who I was freshman year as a good representation of who "Something Pretty" is talking about. No, I don't think I was really just a "dumb punk kid," but I do think I've grown a lot since then. I've grown enough to see how much more I still need to grow. It's gotten to the point that I stood in church yesterday and before service really started, I prayed that God would show me something pretty. I prayed for God to show me those things I don't even know to ask for: love I can't understand, a faith that breaks my rational barriers, timely reading of Scripture that brings me to my knees in life-changing convictions. I begged to be something more than a "dumb punk kid." I want to be more than myself, because who I am is not a great place to settle. I don't want another year to go by and only wind up saying, "here I am, where I've been."

I think I've written a lot about clinging to who I am. At least, I've thought about it a lot. At freshman group, I got everyone to write down a long term goal they have for their lives. Mine was malleability to become who God has purposed me to be. I guess God will have his way with me no matter what, but I don't want to always have to look back over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of a passing blessed moment. I want to not only be conscious of the ways I'm changing but to also make great strides in changing myself in the ways I know I need to change. I'd like to stop complaining about the things that are wrong with me and actually open myself up to changing those things. This might require me to be who I'm not. This might test all the limits I've put on honesty and genuineness, my most prized possessions. But I'm pretty sure Jesus spit a big wad of "no" on my possessions long ago when he told me to throw all that away and follow Him. I guess I do know ugliness, but I'm begging God to show me something pretty, which is something He always promised He would do.

A Feast of Fools

My mom thanked me yesterday for introducing her to Pandora this summer. It has apparently revolutionized her work hours, so I told her I'll hook her up with some AOL Radio if she wants. She promptly declined, stating that she doesn't intend to overstimulate herself.

Keep it simple, stupid. Or is it just simple stupid? Could be either one here.

I do understand her aversion to the idea. I just picked up my laptop with the intention of writing this blog post and, as usual, got lost in the forest of facebook, twitter, and random searches and blogs along the way before my little puppy ears perked up at the high pitch of the "To the Life!" whistle. It's not that I am required to write this post, but I've been inspired, which hasn't been a common occurrence in my world this semester. Inspiration. Pah.

The inspiration here comes from reading a book that finally articulates these thoughts that have been slowly forming in my mind over the course of this semester, especially over the course of this past month as I've even been struggling to drag myself to church every Sunday. Sounds terrible, don't it? The truth is dirty sometimes, but fortunately that grime only stains the crevices of this earth.

Anyway, it all started when Sadie brought home one of those "Read with Discernment" warnings from Lifeway that she was handed upon her purchase of Don Miller's Blue Like Jazz. I didn't know about these things, but they've apparently been warning readers against reading Don Miller's book as though it is the very Word of God. Good call, Lifeway. I got pretty annoyed that they decided to single out Don Miller when we Christians should probably be discerning everything we read, including such greats as John Piper and RC Sproul. Don Miller never claimed to be a theologian as far as I know. The dude's just got a story to tell, but I don't think he's under any sort of illusion that he is bringing The Message to the world by essentially writing his own biography and testimony to what God has done in his life.

So I made it my mission to head over to Lifeway, purchase a book by Don Miller, and refuse a copy of the discernment guide, which would afford me the opportunity to suggest maybe not singling out one non-canonical author but perhaps throwing a blanket over all of them (given all of this warning business is really that necessary).

But since I already own a copy of Blue Like Jazz, I grabbed A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. However, I had already decided at this point that I wouldn't take up the issue with these nice-looking folks since it really is a corporate matter, and for all I know the manager of this particular Lifeway may feel the same way I do about the policy. I've convinced myself at this point that he/she does--just a small comfort to appease myself.

The sweet old lady at the register didn't even hand me one of the discernment guides anyway, but she did look at me a bit disparagingly when I didn't want to purchase a Jesus bag for $1. "Sorry, I don't really do bags," doesn't seem to be a good enough reason to withhold an extra dollar. Good thing that store smells like [Son]shine and Christmas. Redemption.

Redemption continued when I reached the end of chapter twenty-nine of this book not too long ago and decided I found *it*. Special asterisks for a special it, yes. I guess I'll start explaining *it* by throwing down some of the words that struck me:

"We all get worked into a frenzy over things that will not happen until Jesus returns. The truth is, we can make things a little better or a little worse, but utopia doesn't hang in the balance of our vote or of what products we buy."

"But I've also let go of the idea things will ever be made perfect, at least while I am walking around on this planet. I've let go of the idea that this life has a climax... When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are. And when you stop expecting material possessions to complete you, you'd be surprised at how much pleasure you get in material possessions. And when you stop expecting God to end all your troubles, you'd be surprised how much you like spending time with God."

I like that there are several Christian authors these days lamenting how cheap we've made God. If I am honest with myself, my primary frustration is most likely rooted in how cheap I've made God for myself. How easily I get trapped in this idea that God needs to fix things now, but he's not allowed to mess with this or that in the process. I cling to this idea that my personality is extremely important because without it, I have no identity. Please God, don't take away my sarcasm. That's my staple! That's my charm! It's kind of like I'm a pocketknife that won't let you use any of my features except for the knife because that's my best feature.

And so I noted that Don Miller is basically relaying the deeper message of Ecclesiastes. Everything will suck now if we actually do put all our expectations and desires in what we've got going on here. Miller furthered his point by saying Paul and the disciples would have been hard-pressed to promise a blissful life on earth with the amount of turmoil they went through. There was never any promise that everything will work out for our good here, but we do have that promise for when we get there. Jesus said, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Jesus always had his focus on the kingdom of heaven, and that is pretty significant. Why do we want to cheapen Him and distort His love with our own self-righteous political agenda or put a Jesus band-aid over every flesh wound that we eventually wind up ripping off once it becomes unnecessary?

It's not that Jesus isn't relevant to the here and now. That's clear by the fact that he became a man. But Jesus was resurrected from the dead and God put eternity on man's heart because that's where our treasure lies.

Don Miller concludes chapter twenty-nine: "Do I still think there will be a day when all wrongs are made right, when our souls find the completion they are looking for? I do. But when all things are made right, it won't be because of some preacher or snake-oil salesman or politician or writer making promises in his book. I think, instead, this will be done by Jesus. And it will be at a wedding. And there will be a feast."

A Time To

Going to a coffee shop to get things done may be a dangerous choice for one who is already jacked up on approximately four cups of coffee from this morning, and I can't say this medium hot chocolate is doing much to settle my nerves.

Now I'm hunkered down in a worn-out Caribou cushion, trying to read Ecclesiastes 3 through a physical and mental haze. The BCM freshmen and I are planning on delving into this bit of Scripture tomorrow evening, and I do believe this "lesson" is rather timely--at least for me.

This is the part where I address that I've been "leading" a freshman Bible study all semester with no real goal or agenda. This too may be a dangerous move, but with such a diverse group it is difficult to distinguish one specific need to which I should cater. All I know is that these freshmen should be figuring out all of those cryptic things like who they are in Christ and how to love God and others and themselves. There doesn't seem to be a formula for doing these things, and I especially can't assume that any of them even have these goals set for themselves.

That means we read the Bible, and I can only pray that God is speaking to them in ways that I don't know how to do. I can also hope that I don't misrepresent Ecclesiastes as the truly uplifting book it is and instead close out the school year with a room full of Debbie Downers.

And I tell them what I know. And I tell them that which I don't know. And I strive for honesty about myself and about how I see myself as a Christian. It's not that I think I'm so important to any of these people, but since I am a senior and I am their Bible study leader, I do know I have some influence here.

If I leave them wanting to adopt any quality I've displayed, I want that to be my genuineness. I want them to know that I was real, and that I was really real when I told them that I love them and that I want them to love God and to want to understand God. I want them to figure out how that works for them individually, and I want them to know that the world shouldn't shape their faith. I want them to be learning and discerning and caring and loving and trying and praying. I want to see the good and the potential in all of them, and I want them to see that in themselves and in each other.

There is a time to keep, and a time to cast away. This is my time to keep them in my care in a very direct way. This is when I fumble around trying to do the right thing while God really is doing the right thing for all of us. Soon enough it'll be time for me to cast myself away, and that's when I get to still rest assured that God is still doing the keeping business. For God, it's always a time to.