Today I Experienced

Quite An Exchange. I gave blood today in return for a how-to-choose-your-career formula. As Michael was draining the life out of me, he asked me what my major is. -Math. -What do you plan on doing after college? -I don't know. -You don't know? Have you tried to figure that out? -Not really, but I figure I'll know when I need to know. -That's no way to go about it. -Well, what do you suggest? -Well in order to get the answers you want, you have to ask the right questions. See, the smartest man is not the one who knows the answer but the one who asks the right question. -I see... so what is the right question? -Well to start off, you have to ask yourself: "Who am I?" -Can you ever really know who you are? I mean, all that self-actualization business and always learning new things about yourself stuff kinda makes it seem like you can't ever really know. -Yeah, but it all boils down to that one something that defines who you are. -Yeah, that's not obscure at all... -It's not. -Hm, okay. -The second question you should ask yourself is: "What can I do?" -That makes sense. -Yes, and you can't let your friends or money or anything like that lead you to your decision. You have to make the decision for yourself. For who you are and what you can do. If anything, this conversation let me know I do need to pull myself back into the here and now and keep my head from getting too clouded by the "what-if"s of life and God and stuff. I think there's a time for both. Right now I'm cloudy, but there's usually clear sky ahead.

Oh... Faith.

Ah, I finally had a mind dump Tuesday evening, which was great since my mind had been constipated since I got back to school (my apologies for the fecal analogy). Though I am now two days removed from the evening, I'm still on a bit of a high from the weight that was finally lifted... or the clarity that was finally wrought. I'd love to go into it here, but I found that as I tried to tell a friend this morning how great it was to finally talk to a like-minded friend about what's been weighing me down lately, I found I really could not relay any of the thoughts or conversation to her. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, see this post. I basically hit the point where I had to ask what on earth (or not on earth) I truly believed. Not only believed, but had faith in. I had to wonder why I went home for the summer and simply could not continue on in faith as I had at school. Truth is, I'm wrong. You're wrong. That guy over there -- yeah, he's wrong, too. But what is right? What is true? What is faith? Where is faith? Why is faith? These are the questions that have allowed the weeds of apathy to spread across not only my heart but even my mind. What's the point? I'd ask. Over and over. I'd cry. Over and over. God is and was always there, but God was so limited. He was trapped inside a book that I didn't want to read. It was Tuesday evening's revelation-laden conversations that brought me to finally say, "No, God is in those places that I've been lead to believe He isn't." This is hard to explain because it sounds so fundamental, but honestly, this has not been a simple revelation. Our churches' rules, opinions, and various other constructs have limited God too much. For me, at least. What I was hearing was: "God is for me, and He is for you, too! ...as long as you believe this, that, and the other thing." That is the mindset I am shedding, and it has allowed me to see God like I've never seen God before. "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." -Hebrews 11:1 What are you hoping for? I am hoping for God's authority, not only over my piddly revelations and moments of angst, but over anything that ever hinders anyone from a true faith. I'm hoping for hope.

"Oh My God" by Jars of Clay Oh my God, look around this place, Your fingers reach around the bone, you set the break and set the tone For flights of grace, and future falls In present pain all fools say, "Oh my God." Oh my God, why are we so afraid? we make it worse when we don't bleed, there is no cure for our disease. Turn a phrase and rise again, or fake your death and only tell your closest friends, Oh My God. Oh my God, can I complain? You take away my firm belief and graft my soul upon your grief. Weddings, boats, and alibis, All drift away, and a mother cries... Liars and fools, sons and failures, theives will always say.. Lost and found, ailing wanderers, healers always say.. Whores and angels, men with problems, leavers always say.. Broken hearted, separated, orphans always say.. War creators, racial haters, preachers always say.. Distant fathers, fallen warriors, givers always say.. Pilgrim saints, lonely widows, users always say.. Fearful mothers, watchful doubters, Saviors always say.. Sometimes I can not forgive and these days mercy cuts so deep, If the world was how it should be, maybe I could get some sleep. While I lay, I'd dream we're better, scales were gone and faces lighter, When we wake we hate our brother, we still move to hurt each other, Sometimes I can close my eyes and all the fear the keeps me silent, Falls below my heavy breathing, what makes me so badly bent? We all have a chance to murder, we all have the need for wonder. We still want to be reminded that the pain is worth the plunder. Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven, All the times I thought to reach up, all the times I had to give up. Babies underneath their beds, in hospitals that cannot treat them. All the wounds that money causes, all the comforts of cathedrals, All the cries of thirsty children, this is our inheritance, All the rage of watching mothers, this is our greatest offense Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God

Leo

I am home for fall break, and I now feel like I can finally fully dwell on one truly amazing recent event that I don't think I've entirely processed. Even when I was still at school, I frequently found my mind wandering off to this one precious occurrence from September 18, 2009:

My beautiful nephew Leonardo Spencer Martin was born, and he is pictured above with his beautiful mother (who also happens to be my beautiful sister) as they are both getting acclimated to this whole breastfeeding business. I figured it would be weird to see my sister with a baby. Well, her baby, more specifically. Even as I was driving the 9 or so hours to get to Chattanooga, TN, from Fredericksburg, VA, I could not really fathom the reality of the situation -- that I was about to meet my nephew/my sister's son/my parents' grandson. My other older sister and I arrived pretty much immediately after Leo was born, so we had to wait about half an hour to go into the delivery room. Still, it wasn't real. I knew it would be. I knew I would see that baby boy and it would smack me in the face. But when I entered the room, I only saw my sister. She was holding Leo, yes, but I could not tear my eyes away from my sister to take in the awesome vision of her newborn son. It's like in 27 Dresses when Katherine Heigl's character says she always looks at the groom when the bride is coming down the aisle, because his face says it all. Well, my sister's face said it all. Her eyes were completely puffy from crying, and her entire expression was soft with what one could not label anything but pure love. This woman was not the sister I knew. She was not the sister who would ignore me when we were kids because I was annoying. Or the sister who punched me in the stomach. Or the sister who graduated high school early so she could finally get out on her own, away from her family. Or the sister who took pride in emotional detachment for the likes of logical reasoning. No, this was a woman who had just cried hysterically for an entire half hour because she yearned to hold her child. This was a woman who discovered a level of love she never knew was attainable. This was a woman humbled, awestruck, selfless. Puffy eyes, red cheeks and all, I'd never seen anything more beautiful. Until I saw this: Talk about precious moments, folks. God dished out a huge one when He brought Leo into this world.

Lottery Tickets and/= Scientology

At last, I was rescued from my two-day stationary stint since surgery. A friend of mine randomly stopped by my house earlier right as I was about to head to an appointment with my optometrist. As I was stuffing my crutches into the backseat of my sister's car, Amanda pulled into my driveway with her mom and hobbled out of her car to hand me some Reese's and lottery tickets (I won $15 :D) she had just picked up from a gas station down the road. These are "get well" gifts if ever I've received any. Oh and yes, I did say she hobbled. She broke her foot two weeks ago trying to do some complex ballet move... after never having done any other ballet moves in her life before. Yeah, she just does stuff like that.... anyway, she took me to her house after my appointment since I'm past the 48 hours of elevation and ice. After sitting through a delicious dinner seasoned with awkward dinner conversation innuendos, we decided to watch a documentary on Scientology she had just picked up from the library. Which left me more confused about Scientology than I was before watching the DVD. The whole time some narrator guy would kinda sorta explain something... kindasorta, and then he'd go straight into some "Read L. Ron Hubbard's book Scientology: A New Slant on Life" plug. I thought this documentary was supposed to be made for people like me who do not want to read such books (or really, books in general), so I'm not sure I'll ever really know what Scientology is. I guess I can watch that Oprah episode where Tom Cruise jumps all over a couch and electrocutes her to further my education. Eh, whatever. In other news, I'm tired. This is me stopping to go to bed.

joyknees

I woke up at 5:00 a.m. This would be a bit more upsetting if I didn't know that I'm about to be knocked out by anesthetics in about five hours anyway. My last "surgery" was getting my wisdom teeth removed when I was 14-years-old. Consequences of "surgery"? I got sick -- threw up constantly, dry sockets, *and* an infection for kicks and giggles. My mouth tasted like sewage for about two weeks. So I feel like things can only go up from there? No really, I'm not worried about the knee surgery. When I finally got my knee checked out here at home and was told I have a torn medial meniscus and a torn ACL I was given my surgical options, as well as non-surgical options like, well, keep strengthening it to make it *better* but it will never reach full stability again. Um, no thanks? I'll take the surgery plz. Kthx. I'm getting an arthroscopy, which is the less invasive option, but my orthopedic surgeon did tell me that the extent of the tear on my ACL may call for a replacement. The arthroscopy will at least allow him to determine whether this is necessary. Obviously, I hope this is not the case, but given the crazy that has been my body over the past year, it wouldn't come as a shock. I don't mean to sound cynical about the whole thing. I realize I have a lot to be thankful for not only physically but mentally, spiritually, and other -allys. Plus, I have lived with a severely disabled younger sister for almost 19 years. Can't I be grateful that I don't have to live with my parents forever like she does, that I don't have to put my other sisters into the position of taking care of me if those parents die before me, that I can communicate my thoughts, that I can simply follow the "normal" pattern of life? Yes, I can be, and that gratefulness within me is renewed each time I look at my baby sister and she flashes me that ever-present grin. Despite her limitations, this girl has joy like I've not seen in most people. So what of physical health? What of mental health? We can patch up all the bodies we want. Heck, we can "improve" as many bodies as we want through plastic surgery, but the real and lasting, comforting joy we yearn for can only be found in God. And we don't find comfort for comfort's sake. Comfort enters in as an inevitable consequence of pursuing the one true God. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." -Hebrews 12:1-3

I don't know anything either.

As I've mentioned before, I worked at a Christian adventure camp in the summer of 2008. I met a lot of fantastic people, including my friend Tim Milligan, and he once introduced me to his blog. One post I read of his has really stuck with me, and it has resurfaced in my mind in light of recent events in my life. If you're interested (which you should be) in what I'm referring to, please read his post. So yeah, I'm inclined to follow the conclusion that I don't know anything. And that is probably one of the most important things to know... as long as you do know that there is One who knows everything.