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A gun shot was the only word you said And all of my defenses came out red Love was red, love is red She left with you, you left me lying dead So I watched her as you put me in the dirt She had my wallet tucked inside her skirt And I went numb, I went numb So I'm not dead if what you did don't hurt -Betrayal, Fiction Family I'm a sucker for story songs, what can I say. The lyrics to this song display 3 of my very favorite things that can be done in a song. 1. An incredibly interesting hook. "A gun shot was the only word you said". You can't forget that. It is different enough to be remembered. It's talking about something not spoken, but communicated. The shot said more than any word could communcate. Such a beautiful line there. 2. Mentioning something, then finding out just how true it is, so it repeated as fact. "Love was red, love is red". Love wasn't just red, Jon found out. Love is red. As if to say, "How could I have misse

“I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and towards the end, his wife started crying and screaming, "I want to go too! I want to go too!" And with his last measure of strength, McKinley turned to her and spoke his last words: "We are all going.” ― John Green, Looking for Alaska We are all going. I've been thinking a lot about the things I wrote about yesterday. It's hard to decide on the best way to live life. And when we've decided on the correct way for us to live, it's easy to believe that everyone should, or must, live that same way. The last few weeks I've thought about devoid of much of what I've done. Of giving it all away, surrendering much of what I know of joy. Just rolling it over in my mind. I know people that have done that. And I have less of a problem with those people today than I once had. But I also know that ma

Just a heads up, this one may get a little heavy. Also, there may not be a conclusion. I just finished reading my 3rd John Green book, "Looking for Alaska", and well, it's a tragedy, and also something far from a tragedy at the same time. But it made me think, because it asked some good questions. They main one being: "How will you escape this labyrinth of suffering? What will give you hope? I often shy away from that question, and hang on to my old adage that I do not doubt in God, I doubt in myself. Or I get off on some tangent about purpose, or greater hope, or first steps. I have preached more "first step" sermons than I care to admit. I feel like we are in a world of first steps. We never really answer the question, we never really reveal how to make it out of the labyrinth. And if anyone ever makes it out, I'm screaming as to why they never share it with the rest of us. As if there's some way to transcend all of this. Like this maze can b

Oh, I guess they'll say I've grown I know more than I wanted to know I've said more than I wanted to say I'm heading home Yeah, but I'm not so sure That home is a place You can still get to by train -Southbound Train, Jon Foreman I absolutely love that song, if you haven't heard it, you're doing something wrong, so give it a listen. I don't have anything just absolutely profound to share about this song, I just want to say that it rings true. There comes a point in life where you can't get home, by train, by bus, by car, by long walk. You can't get "home" anymore. "Home" doesn't exist. The home of your childhood is replaced. Your parents move away, or it doesn't feel the same. You walk into the home of your youth and can't find doorknobs or light switches. The family, even the family that you know, is different. And it cannot really be made "home" again. But it is almost required. Just like

You are no the contents of your wallet. You are not the space you rent. When you’re eighty-five with no scars to show the winner of our discontent Whose lips have you been kissing? Hang your future from a blade Win it all, but something’s missing maybe drank the wrong Kool-Aid? -I am Jack's Smirking Revenge, Five Iron I think this song is a call to be in the world but not of it. I think sometimes we feel as though we can get by with the same things. We can fight, and fuss, and get angry. I absolutely love the line "Whose lips have you been kissing?" I wish I would've written that. What a straight to the heart way to dig into you. At the end of the song, they keep repeating a line from the chorus: "If you change your mind." If is the key word there. Who among us are willing to have our minds changed. Anyone thinking that they are living just the way they should, thinking just the way they should, has no place in what God is doing. We need to be teacha

Take all of them If you've ever stood in front of a large display of televisions, you know the feeling. They're all playing some Disney movie, and all have varying degrees of quality. You can already tell that some are going to stand the test of time, and some are already breaking down before they even leave the store. But when your eyes are allowed to fall on all of them at once, to take them all in, it's just a blur. And the communication can mean almost nothing. It takes focusing in on a single television to follow the story line. If they were all displaying the weather, you'd need to watch the hand motions of just one weatherman to know the movement of the storm. And so it is in life. We all have a lot to watch. We each have a hundred faces, looking at us and talking. Dishing out advice, disappointing news, judgement, and hope. It matters what few we decide to turn to. And even just the idea of focusing on a few is important too, I don't want to overshadow

There is a need to take someone else down with you. Where on earth does that come from? It could be explained away with this want to make a name for yourself. People, feeling the need to commit suicide, take with them 20 little kids. Their name is remembered as more than a man that committed suicide, but now as a man that committed this terrible, thought out act. Klebold and Harris were thought of as martyrs by later school shooters. But I think it's more than that. Because there's stories of people killing one other specific person, or their dog before turning the gun on themselves. Hitler demanded that his military fight to the last man, even though he ended up killing himself. Why do we do these things? And maybe I shouldn't say "we", it obviously isn't the desire of us all. But it also isn't only in death and destruction. Like Jon Foreman writes, it takes 2 to go to war, but only 1 to fall in love. We also go down together in romance, in sorr

When I don't write. It isn't because there's nothing to say, or in my opinion, it isn't because I don't have the words to caption it all. It's mostly because there's simply too much. Life is overwhelmingly too much. But not overwhelming like a wall of water, not some crushing thing. Life hasn't been that for me yet. I'm not depressed by the massive amount of "stuff". Rather, It is overwhelming like a heavy fog of perfume. It's difficult to see through it all, but more that it overwhelms all of the senses. And like too much perfume, I have a hard time knowing whether I like it. I don't always know where it comes from. Pain or happiness. And much of this could be chalked up to coincidence and being either where I ought to be, or not where I ought to be. But I'd rather chalk it up to more than that.

It's takes one person. It takes one wonderful cabin counselor to make a week of camp that much better. It takes one teacher to make school worth it. It takes one student's appreciation to make the day. One girl to make it all alright, every night. What you do today does really matter. Even to give that one compliment that maybe you're a little too shy to give. To be a gentleman, to be appreciative, to tell the truth. To run from evil. It takes one person.

One lost night against a sea of troubles I could not hear You through the thunder's peal My only hope is that You cannot, not- be real My only thought pray for me now My only thought with my last breath -Five Iron, Against a Sea of Troubles This is their first song on the new album. It's this last ditch/if nothing else/ proclamation. No matter what else happens, please be real. Whatever else happens, I'll be believing it with my last breath. It's the way I need to see it, I need to adjust my vision that direction more and more. It's a lot closer to where I want to be. It doesn't worry about tomorrow you know?

It's been a good day. School started a couple of hours late, the sun is shining now, and has been for most of the day. I'm working on camp. Yeah, I know the snow just fell. But if anything, I wish I had most of my outlines written down already. It's a struggle for me to figure out a topic, or a way of presenting the truth clear enough, that I feel it's "worthy" of camp. Because I can think of plenty of messages, but to have one theme that is worth designing a year of camp around takes a lot. Usually it's a song. Or more specifically, a song title. That usually does it for me. Because to even come close to using the same kind of words, the same kind of tone, and to get the illuminating nature of Christ's words, music is as close as I can get. As Reese wrote in "Far, Far Away", Christ "Spoke His words as plain men sing". I always liked that. Music is thought out, more than my mumbling, more than my best put together message.

I'm pretty sure that the new Five Iron album is almost entirely about the frustration of having faith and losing it. Blizzards and Bygones (their last track) certainly is. There's so many people who have "had faith". Mother Theresa opened a "home for the dying." What kind of faith would that take. It wasn't a place for people to go to get better, but rather, to die well. She was once quoted as saying: "By blood, I am Albanian. By citizenship, an Indian. By faith, I am a Catholic nun. As to my calling, I belong to the world. As to my heart, I belong entirely to the Heart of Jesus." I buy into that so much. I am many things, but none of them, in the grand scheme of things, means much of anything to me. One thing is important. But 20 years before she died, she had serious doubts. "Where is my faith? Even deep down ... there is nothing but emptiness and darkness ... If there be God—please forgive me. When I try to raise my thoughts t

In the mail. It's been two years. I waited for his hands to scribble out, on paper that is probably wrinkled on the end. It may be frayed. Words might be crossed out, and re-written. Chances are that mountain dew and beef jerky stain at least one corner. And people will probably scoff at it. Displayed in a frame. It will be the first item I've ever framed. But it will be the words. To my song. The song that probably saved my life. I cannot wait to hold it in my hands. Every New Day.

The spectacle Listening to Christmas music while people shove each other for $50 off. It is everything he wouldn't want. We are crooked souls trying to stand up straight. (SF) I'm not sure if I'm going to be a part of the spectacle, get a good deal, or just to see how crooked and fallen we've become. We all say we care about our fellow man, until our own desires get in the way. What a sight to see. I really shouldn't get excited about it, I'm sure he wants to turn His face away.

Back after being sick yesterday. Just finished John Green's "The Fault in Our Stars". A great book, depressing in many ways, because it refuses to shy away from the terminal quality of cancer. It's a look at a few kids who look more honestly at cancer, and the inevitability of our own demise that most adults are ever willing to be. It leaves me feeling like I should examine my life and determine if I'm being unfair to anyone, or if there's anyone that I would treat better, if I found out that they had cancer. Personally, I think I'm doing alright in this aspect of life. But it makes me think. The fault in our stars is a difficult thing to wonder about. Where does the fault for the difficulty in our lives lie? In our own decisions, or does much of it way on decisions and corruptions outside of our control. I think that a case can be made for both. Some lives are completely high-jacked by cancer at an early age, but many people choose to make their lives

Cell theory, one of it's laws is that all cells come from pre-existing cells. It makes me want to throw up my hands. If we, with all of our technology, with all of the effort we've given it, we cannot make life, even in the best possible scenario. So they say that it came from another planet. Well, how was it created on that other planet? I know, I don't think, I know, that scientists would love, absolutely love to create life in a tube. But it can't seem to get it done. I don't need any of that proven. I don't need it to believe, my faith rests more on scientific evidence. I don't ever doubt Him, I doubt myself.

I haven't seen her since '05. Amazing how when you're a child you might not just think you've got it all figured out, but you might in fact actually have some things figured out that we lose in adulthood. G.K. wrote about that. He said that there's something that we lose because of sin. That in our infancy we experience things early in life that we may not experience later on. And that maybe God experiences those same things because He wasn't corrupted by sin. Back to '05. That was the last I saw my grandmother. Not because she was passed away, or because she moved away, or because I had. I don't know why that was the last time I saw her. I was actually fairly sure as a child that I was one of her favorite grandchildren. And I cared for her. But once my parents split, I haven't heard from her. I liked being a kid. I never had to wonder why something like this happens. But I'm going to see her on Friday. Not to get after her about not com

I crawled through the incredible white to the innermost part of the alcove where the basecamp was located. I huddled up tight the the sheer wall, and closed my eyes for what felt like months and then years, but only one dark night passed. I didn't sleep so much as I shivered and then everything went black. I woke up, if you can call it that, clenching my bag around me with everything that I had. My eyes could only open as far as my eyelashes would extend, they were quite literally frozen together, I had to warm them with my cold fingertips until they gave way, and my eyes saw, one at a time, the newness of the morning. Still cold and frozen, but, morning. I didn't get out of my bag when I heard what sounded like a distant growing roar. Something scraping and digging in, high up on the mountain, almost above me. Closer and closer it came sliding down, until it flew down over the cliff, almost directly above me, just a few feet to my left. All at once it dropped from the edge.

Life Time Is that some sort of special time? Life time as opposed to overtime, or time on the clock, time to learn, time to play. You could say time is just a measurement. You could say that it is a space of reality set aside for a specific purpose. Whatever it is, I want it to be used. Nobody wants to give time that they don't feel is worth it. I don't even like the phrase "time is money". Time is more than money. I wish I could buy time with money, and so does anyone lying on their death bed. Time, so far as we know it, is one of the most definitely finite things that we have. Our lifetime is limited by factors beyond our control. How much money you have can directly correlate to other factors, the family you were born into, how hard you work. But your lifetime is beyond that to a degree. Would I realize that today. Live that way today.

Let’s keep them separate, melanin just can’t succeed. “Give me liberty… or something.” It’s better if you just don’t read. Crank your phasers up to “slaughter” Turn your wine back into water. When you play this song, Al Qaeda wins, and Jesus was American. The United States of Amnesia make us numb, make it dumb, anesthesia. Cut the cord, close the door, we don’t know ‘ya, it’s the zen and the art of xenophobia -Five Iron Frenzy, Zen and the Art of Xenophobia Xenophobia - fear and hatred of strangers or foreigners or of anything that is strange or foreign Wow, there's a lot of "Christians" that are pretty sure they've got it figured out. Yet "different" sure seems to freak us out. Giving into His calling to love others, means so much more than "others that we're comfortable with", or "others that we like". I think we need to accept that we've bit it as a whole. We've put our own fear of any pain or uncomfort ahead of the r

I was amazed at the speed of the rest of the camp. The swifter the wind, the more swiftly they moved. Like an anthill scattering to flee, so they went, headed down to the relative safety of the tree line and the town below. I was left there so quickly it left me angry, it left me more alone than I'd ever been. I couldn't leave base camp, not yet. Not with my parents so close. What if they needed help? Whatever help a seventeen year old could provide, I could at least try. Even the experienced crews on the mountain took everything. I was left with my tent, my own pack, and the few rations that I'd manager to tuck away in the fold next to my sleeping bag. With few options, and even fewer hopes, I looked to the summit as the frozen winds overcame me.

I can hardly remember reaching base camp. All I remember was that I had to breathe a little harder. I remember breaking through the tree line, the world switched from green to a mix of white and grey. My parents brought me there, they were on the way to the top. A mountain so vast and jagged, I was only told stories as a child of a few who had reached the peak. It was everything. Seeing the view from up there, brought everything into perspective. But you were going to need oxygen, and training, and more bravery than my 17 year old heart could hope to muster. Here as base camp, it wasn't all that bad. It was heavily populated, hundreds actually, most days. Far more would turn around and make the trek back down the mountainside, than decide to face it. The reports were near constant. Another climber, now two, now three, were caught on the way up, frozen against the rocks. Clothing and oxygen meant to sustain for just long enough to make it to the top, and then quickly to descend, s

I actually have quite a few things that I want to write about. It's nice feeling somewhat inspired. I want to start writing a story here, and maybe I'll start that tomorrow. But for today, I want to start what will hopefully be a new series, looking at some scary questions/statements. Should be fun. We read the first chapter of "crazy love", and the first chapter is called "stop praying". I would totally write a chapter in a book by that same name, just thought I'd get that out there. But stop praying. After reading that, I almost wish that I could have let that sit in my mind for a good long while before the author went on to explain what he meant by it. But of course, I can't stop reading, and so my mind immediately shut off that part that wanted to wander, and I focused on what he wanted me to take away. He wants us to do more listening. Stop talking so much and listen. Stop and think. There's so many more interesting ways to take &quo

Not much today. Life has been very eventful, but is now settling in again. The concert last night was great. "Consumed by Fire" is a band definitely worth checking out. I'm off to the Veteran's Day service in just a minute. Hope all is well with you, whoever you are.

My cats are loving all of this dried deer blood. Just thought I'd throw that out there. It really is the best of times, so much in life, particularly the parts of life surrounding the word "success" are going so well right now. My jobs all appear to be going really quite well. I am in good graces with my friends and my wife. It is deer hunting season. Awesome. But so much of the rest is boiling over right now. It drives me crazy, the things that I can't control, or don't want to. I'm not really quite sure what else to make of it, or what to write about it, but it's true. So maybe pray for that. thanks.

Where is God in the night sky? Where is God in the city light? Where is God in the earthquake? Where is God in the genocide? Where are you in my broken heart? Everything seems to fall apart Everything feels rusted over Tell me that you're there -Switchfoot, Vice Verses There's been a lot of positives lately, God has certainly been in some important things in my life. God has been in my ministry, in many of my relationships, in my own walk. But I think we need to ask God where He is in the things that aren't going well. Where are you God with some of my friends that are struggling? Where are you with my Dad? Where are you with my future? It isn't doubt. It's wonder. It isn't a lack of trust, it's a want for more.

Hindrance. Noun. a thing that provides resistance, delay, or obstruction to something or someone. The furthest I've ever needed trust to go, is to get me something beyond my expectations. I rarely need to trust to have simply what I need to survive. What a hindrance. I barely allow myself enough room to need. I so quickly get what I need without any sort of reliance. It's why we're entitled. It's why we're in trouble. Because we don't need.

Always There's so few instances where we use that word well at all. I will not always be available, or always be ready, or always be on top of my game. I won't always be the best friend, or live in a state of repentance. But we continue to use a word that we don't take very seriously (not that taking the word seriously is an absolute necessity for life). I once heard a message about how we need to take the word "awesome" more seriously, and should only use it when referring to God. Which, while not a bad idea, is also not the end of the world. I tend to believe that whatever word I use to describe the undescribable will fall short. But I guess if someone else believes that "awesome" is good enough, that is their decision. In some kind of conclusion, maybe we should use our words more cautiously, or maybe we should use less of them, or be more descriptive and use more. Or we could just let our yes be yes, and our no be no. Somewhere in all of it w

I feel like I have little to write today. It's been a long, good weekend, and I didn't even get a chance to post on Friday. But life continues to go along, with few new details. I'm excited about hunting this weekend. More for the comradery and stories than for the opportunity to take a life. Not because I am in any way against a deer giving up its life so that I can eat, but because it just isn't all that thrilling to me. I feel pretty strongly that I was put here to have dominion over other creatures. Genesis makes that pretty clear. Genesis 1:26 Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” But death is part of the fall. It is a consequence of our downfall. We are surrounded by death and always will be.

What is it about the sound of water, beating against the rocks that puts us to sleep? It's constant, is that it? Natural sounds. We make machines to emulate them. I am a couple hundred miles from a lake large enough to form waves that could sooth me to sleep, yet I can carry that comfort with me. I can play that sweet music into my ears, and it can trick my mind into some kind of comfort. I don't even know why. I feel that we know so little about even the things that we enjoy, and the things that we need. We are conditioned, and have needs that we can't understand. This side of eternity there are mysteries, and I'm not sure that I entirely want the mystery to end. I hope there is always more to know, even when face to face with the One that knows all of it. Surely, He likes a good mystery. He has certainly placed me in one.

I used to hate sad stories. I used to get upset, because unlike in life, where so much is out of our individual control, in a book, the author gets to dictate how things will go. It is all up to the author, and in my opinion, he should end all stories well. There should always be a lesson learned, there should always be some good twist despite all the dangers and trials. But literature should reflect life. And now I'm more interested than ever in a book where the lead character doesn't walk away learning anything. Where they might fail in the end, or come up just short of what they intended to accomplish. I want for this specifically because it is not glamorous, because it is honest. And maybe it would push me to do something more with my own life.

Snow. They were pretty giddy about it. The kids with no gloves. They couldn't wait to dig in. The cold didn't have a chance of getting to them today. They were impenetrable. As if snow were a battery charger. Or some chemical reactant. They had more energy. Or maybe the lack of friction. Lead to an ease of movement. It was the first snow. Today.

I was always the kid to stand the longest on the diving board. I never had the urge to jump a fence. It isn't that I never got hurt, or that I never looked before leaping. I just never longed for it. I was never all that willing to do it. I often went with the tried and true, still do. If I had been shown that something was safe, then maybe I'd try it. But I wasn't going to be the one to find out. My wife was the one to ask what we were when we started dating. It takes planets colliding to remind me how to have a relationship with my dad, to even remind me to do it. So much is foreign to me. I fear falling, always have. But if you ask me, I promise to be up for anything. I will follow, and one day I need to learn to do a better job of leading. Everyone wants a leader, everyone wants someone to fall first. A good leader needs to lack the fear of falling, but embrace it, fall openly, get hurt often, and to keep moving, as it is a part of the job. He fell didn't He

This is a mutiny This is a masquerade This is the pin pulled from a ticking hand grenade Shoot each word into your veins Sing until you can't feel pain This is a firing line This is Sweet Caroline This is a slot machine Shoot each word into your veins Sing until you can't feel pain You're going down hard, you're going down fast. You're going down like this might be your last. -Into Your Veins, Five Iron Frenzy The second single from their new album, Engine of a Million Plots. I am missing quite a few lyrics, because trying to understand Reese is like trying to decifer morse code while being snacked on by a Tiger. It's an edgy song, it reminds me a lot of "Mercenary" by their side project band, Brave Saint Saturn. They are more a band for the left-outs and the left-behinds than they have ever been. Yet they haven't changed, there's something so refreshing about a band that learns and grows, and gets better, and produces new things, but

Hey, I'm back. I was home sick the past couple of days. Sore throat and the coughing up a lung disease. It has been a fairly good day so far, I've still got my scarf wrapped around my neck though. I'm concerned about a lot of things right now, that I really can only interract with through prayer, which is hard for me. There are people that I really care about, that I hope for a change of heart in. Pastor Phil was right when he said that one of the hardest parts in life is not what you have to do, but what you cannot do. I can't make people's hearts change, I can't make sick people well, I can't give people all the time that they need and rightfully deserve. That is a harsh reality. But, I do have access to someone that can. I have to hold to that. My grandma was always comforted in that, she couldn't be everywhere, and get everywhere she wanted/needed to be, but she always had a way, in her thoughts, in her actions, in her dealings with me and my fa

There isn't an ideal age. Little kids have the greatest capacity for cuteness, and may be the most hopeful of all age groups. They haven't been jaded by the world. But they aren't cultured, they can't take care of themselves. Teenagers may still have some hope, and some good ideas. Their ideals may not yet be corrupted, they may still feel that they can change the world and "do what they want". Those are all positive. But they also may be the age where they aren't willing to listen, they may think of themselves more highly than they ought, and there isn't always the effort behind the ideas to make them work. Young adults start to already buy into the system. They are likely to buy into radical ideals, and chase after all the wrong dragons. They want to be served in a world that doesn't serve them anymore. Middle Agers may be the most productive and best paid. But they also may seek those things and put them on a higher level than other, more i

Personal Success It's the desire of so many. I'm not excluded from this bumbling group either. We lose it once we die, we have received our gift in full. But boy, are we going to ever try for it. So many songs are written about it. Self-Improvement sounds really nice too. Until I remember that I've never been the one to improve myself. It has only ever been an outside force. I might desire it (Not even sure how natural that is), but I've never been the one to push for it, never been the one to act on it. We all want that castle, obsessed with the dream life, or even hope for it in Heaven. Maybe that isn't our destiny. It certainly won't be our focus then.

Goodbye old friend. I am not Mr. Sentimental, not anymore. But I finally got rid of my old phone. I had it for four years, the last couple it didn't function very well. I dropped it in the water, put it back in my pocket and kept fishing. So, probably my fault on that one. In the end, its pretty inconsequential, its just a phone. I made some of the best phone calls on that phone, and some of the worst. I was grateful to have it on many a trip. I don't think I'd drive across the country without a phone, makes me wonder about the kind of faith required to venture across the globe before cell phones. Before 911. Before you could get somewhere in a day. We are probably all hindered by it, I mean, the small amount of help that technology has had for the Christian faith is entirely blotted out by the harm its done to our wanting. We want for nothing anymore.

The danger is in the pill. Kind of. The main problem isn't taking the pill. The problem is continuing to take the pill. Whatever the pill is for you. It surprised me to be tought that selfishness would be the root of all kinds of sin, I thought it was just some pure kind of evil, some kind of destructive force. But selfishness. It all comes down to who we serve in the end. I guess it makes sense. C.S. makes a lot of sense when he describes how those destined for Heaven of Hell are ultimately getting what they want. I like to believe that can be a good thermostat of the direction we're headed. We think about what we ultimately want, and every day as I sit down at this computer, I want to write on that topic. It ultimately is a very tell-tale fruit. What I want, and who I want for. It is incredibly telling. I want for the things that give me joy, any little chute of joy, any little potential. What is that pill for you? And what do you want for?

When I go out I play in the street I get hit by cars I make mashed potatoes I get hit by cars -Five Iron Frenzy, When I Go Out When I go out, I waste a lot of time. I run into trouble, I fail, I fall short. But I keep going out.

A Poem/Song I worked on a little over the summer. And I saw you there In the fire of the abysmal I saw it as a symbol Wrapped up in your hair And there were many men Guarding wife and daughter A refuge from the slaughter weary, growing thin. And I held tight my heart I couldn't find it in me To tell them all what I'd seen Their families torn apart

Freedom Mystery is tied to freedom. In some way we never quite get to grapple with, we long for freedom. It is linked to this belief that there are experiences we are yet to have. The best day we know, is simply the best day that we are yet to experience. Or we hear stories of places that others have been, and we long to travel to those places, to see those same things. We want to have that same experience, or better. But some of that magic dust is already rubbed off. Freedom I think involves some true surprise. When we discover something on our own. When we feel the freedom from the burden of financial troubles. When we are finally surrounded by friends, and have that night, that moment, that we never really thought possible. Because freedom is much different from disappointment, the latter being much more common in life. Freedom is more than just the ability to do whatever one wishes, but to do precisely what one wishes.

America. It is a country. It has freedoms not known other places. But why do Americans have any more right to life than citizens of other countries? I'm having a hard time with this. And I don't feel that I do nearly enough to fight it. Its far from our only problem. I mean, it should concern us that we become irate when the coffee shop is out of something. It should bother us, but it doesn't, it won't. I like to believe that He put me here for a reason. But I feel like such a product of my location. If I was raised in another culture, imagine how different I would be. Glad to be here, but I'm not so sure that its where He wants me to stay.

I like writing darker things on a good day. Its just easier that way. I wish I could find my old notebook, I had begun a little exploration into the idea of life as torture. Dark right? But really, without hope, without some kind of light at the end of the tunnel... How is it all that different. Life will slowly break you down, and you will experience hurts that never go away. You will get injured, you will hurt others. And people that you love will slowly be taken from you. I in no way want to compare my life to that of someone going through the holocaust, or being tortured in a foreign war. I cannot even comprehend standing on one of those railroad ramps, and having my family taken away from me, sent the the chambers. That is just plain unbearable. But life will do the same. Life will do the same without a savior. So cling to whatever you have, doubters. Make a "better" tomorrow. Without God its just more of the same. Without a forgiveness that wipes these tears a

"when anastasia smiles the world is getting lighter when anastasia wakes the lights come on inside her and stars will light the path for her tonight and yes, the moon is burning oh so bright anastasia" -Brave Saint Saturn, Anastasia This was always one of my favorite songs by BS2. The music is good, and very tangible. But Reese makes a few nods to "knowing" that Anastasia is special. Here he writes that "Yes, the moon is burning oh so bright", and in another section of the song, he writes that she haunts his dreams at night "underneath the bluest moon". Both are references He uses in other parts of the album. It makes me think about how we decide on people, in good ways and bad. The kinds of things we associate with people. How we remember them. And like that quote by Maya Angelou, we might not always remember what people say, or what people do. But we do remember how they make us feel. And this song certainly contains much of that. I

Its when it is at its best. Thats when life lashes out. Things start to fall out of line. The golden age lasts just long enough to give you a memory. And for you to have just one good day. Would mean the world to me. I would be pleased as punch just to know. But that isn't reciprocated. Perfect love in a putrid world. Trees reach to heavens all over the world. They all point out, different directions. Just to remind me of how Grandiose you are. I'd like to see someone try and time you. Set the watch and let it fail. Litmus test the King of Heaven. Miles away from this old world.

Joy Its surprising the situations where Joy [or something that looks like joy] comes up in even painful situations. I think Joy has to be driven by a deeper belief. We can get giddy about silliness. And we can be happy about good things that happen to us. But joy, joy is experienced with or without outside inputs. Joy comes with remembering. Joy sees past the momentary affliction, to the larger picture. Joy is never experienced in the pain of another. Even if I was a Christian in an army fighting against terrorism. If I were to "win", that feeling would not be joy. Because Satan just claimed another victim. Heaven wouldn't be rejoicing over it. And it's joy wouldn't extend to me.

Its good to reminded of why I believe in the most important things. I also am entertained at the wild ideas of others. Why are we so conditioned to believe that our side is entirely right? When can we all start living with the belief that we do not have the full perspective in our sights. We simply never will I am also fascinated by all of the romanticizing we do. I like Christina Perri as much as the next guy [whatever that means], but wow, she romanticizes so much in every song. She makes bitterness sound so heavenly, and she wants to love someone for a thousand more years. That sounds great, and really romantic. But it also sounds like a mountain of pain and grief. Don't get me wrong, it all sounds so great. But I want to live this life, and live it well. I want to love with all I've got, and give it my all. But then I want to come to a place of satisfaction, knowing that my creator has created me for only as long as He's deemed necessary. At some point all the tea

Exasperation - The second poem that I wrote this summer. Enjoy. I'm on borrowed breath for 26 years. Spent it all treading water. Or the exhaustion that comes, with the frustration of men who should be. I thought independence, would mean I don't need anymore. Yet I'm back at the well. For the 7th time this week. Still the sparrow flies unbothered. My overgrown problems, don't seem to seep past my window. So he'll keep soaring, And I'll keep roaring. Could we someday switch somehow? I'm sure the problems my gen has, are all the problems that we do. I've seen the churches they attend. Pretty sure I'd think God was dead too. There has to be something more. Because I've accumulated nothing, Worthy of my time, A quarter through already.

We're going nowhere, and it's happening fast, a dim future, and a darker past. Somewhere away from here, from past mistakes they often learn, at Fahrenheit 451, you close your doors and let it burn. Pharisees in the church, time to take a vacation. Pharisees think the world comes to them for salvation. -Five Iron Frenzy, Four-Fifty-One Sitting here in my Five Iron shirt, I like to believe that I'm not alone in my beliefs. We have a lack of interest in the salvation of others. We are willing to sacrifice the our own comfort. And so we throw generations of people to the dogs. Unbeknownst to us, we so seal our own fate. When the forgiven refuse to forgive, we haven't learned a thing. We haven't really learned a thing. We lock the doors, and burn up anything valuable at 451. Let us be a different kind of generation. A generation that sees people at more than bullies, sinners, homosexuals, and ruined. But as a field that needs watering. Un-churched are

I am not a good person. That sounds different coming out of the mouth. Prboably should be admitted to more often. You almost want to gulp that one back down your throat when you say it. Isn't that the first declaration a Christian has to make? Isn't that something we should be reminded of a little more often. I'm not saying in every case, I'm sure that there are quite a few people that would be hindered by going back down into that pit. But for someone like me. I need to be broken down continually. I need to be kept humbled and focused on more than myself. I am a bad person. I don't want anything good for anyone but myself. In my own mind, I want my friends to do well so that my experience with them will be better. I want to bless so that I might be known as someone who blesses. I am not a good person. Let it slip from your lips. And with it, remember again that all goodness flows from the river that has been built in you. Remember that we are incapable of good

I see you there, waving. It's been a long year for you, again. Long couple hundred years. You've been beckoning me to call you home for a long time. Waving every day. But do the people you call your own, deserve to live any better lives? Why do we deserve to make so much more? To purchase toilet paper. To get cancer through a pipe or through fake lights. Thanks for waving, I guess. Flag.

Marriage & Expectations I wanted to write down my theory on a big difference from dating to marriage, a change that I don't usually hear discussed. When dating, a boy and girl see each other for a couple hours each day that they have together. During that time, there's a lot to talk about. A guy can be very charming, interesting, and funny for a couple hours each day. A girl sees that in a dating relationship, and thinks, I can't wait for every day to be filled with this funny, charming, and very interesting boy. A boy sees that two hour time in a dating relationship as a wonderful time, probably the best part of his day. But he also knows that he can't be that funny, and that charming, and that interesting all day everyday. He hopes to still be able to maintain his adventuring (where he gets his stories from), and his alone time. They both enter into marriage with different expectations. The girl wanting to blow up that two hour time, and a boy wanting more

Leaves. They are one of the more fragile parts of a tree. And a tree can lose a few leaves, and be just fine. But it has a tipping point, after being stripped of enough leaves, a tree, rather than thriving, starts to wither and die. Aspirations. They are one of the more fragile parts of a man. A man can lose a few battles, and be just fine. But he has a tipping point, after being stripped of enough dreams, a man, rather than aspiring for more, starts to wither an die.

An idea dies, in the same slight way, that we lose track of the facts. Slowly, unseen, slipping silently, through some fabricated cracks. And now the freedom of the press, has turned to freedom to impress. Perfect hair, sells product well, like suffocating, sickly smells, the make-up smears, like false pastels, like glossy, sugarcoated, shells. -Five Iron Frenzy, Anchors Away Five Iron stopped caring [if they ever did care] about getting into politics. They went after whatever was wrong, which for me, is just fun, really. In the song "anchors away" they look at not just the danger of television, but also our willingness to buy in, and want more. I think every generation has wanted to feel that they are living in the worst times, or the most pivotal moments in history. We want to believe that we are on the brink, that everything is critical. We are willing to sacrifice a lot for that. Facts. Truth. The idea that the other side, whatever or whoever that is, might be right

I was looking through the lyrics of a couple of old Sixpence None the Richer songs, and was struck by some of it. In the song "Within a room somewhere", she writes about how God is within, without. That is a hard thing for us to accept. It has been romanticized at times that if YOU don't act, if you don't take that step of faith, somehow God's will won't come to happen. It is used as motivation. But God is within and without me. I have to live out of that strength, that He is in and involved in me. That He gives me power to do what I otherwise could not do. But I also must be aware that God is also without me. That He exists and operates through people I don't expect Him to, and He works in ways that are far beyond me. Both within, and without. And then in the song "Love, Salvation, The fear of Death": "all these gongs and cymbals ring inside my head surrendered body to the flames has singed the skin can't speak in tongues and ev

On why we need each other. Sometimes you need to write the things you'd rather not. A reasonable person has to go against himself more often than not. It is a conflicted life. There is an amount of invincibility that so many of us feel, going beyond even just explaining our lack of fear of death. But we can also feel that we can handle things on our own. It leads us into places where we stand alone, when we really would be much better off together. I don't like to admit that. When I'm tired I'd rather not say so. When I'm alone I want to [like everything else] keep it to myself. We need each other. Not because we will do more together [we will], or because it will make us feel less lonely [it will]. But because its the only way we survive, and its the only way His plan works. You and I need to remind each other why we fight the good fight. You and I need to be honest enough with each other to admit when we are running low. Not so that we can make it thro

I have a hard time distinguishing a selfish prayer sometimes. Is it selfish to ask God to make the grass on the other side, that seems so green, wilt? I hope for contentedness, anyone should. That isn't anything special about me. But I have a hard time ever achieving it. Life is poorly spent in defeat. It is the most needless moment. To lose is an important spot to sit. Failure is critical for any kind of growth. But defeat is a place that once can sit, can watch the grass that borders his own lawn. We can writhe in that for years, decades. I've seen it happen. It is a fruitless endeavor. It can look like martyrdom, and that is why its dangerous. It can look like Christ. And so it is replicated. This sick kind of sacrifice, made to a God I'll call the Self. So what can I pray for today?

Enough Its relative, but its also seemingly unreachable. I probably don't need to tell you that. But, one of my favorite passages from Perelandra, the great 2nd book from the Space Trilogy by C.S. Lewis, is when the protagonist, Ransom, stumbles upon a fruit. He consumes it, and it immediately satisfies his hunger. It is perfect. Juicy, delicious, and most uniquely, it is enough. He doesn't need another. It is the best thing he's ever eaten but he doesn't long for any more. His need is met in completeness. We all long for that. I find it to be incredible that Lewis even thought of this idea. We all want it, but there is nothing that we can find on this earth that satisfies us. We will find it on the other side of eternity. But over here, this looks much more like a good mindset than any kind of consumable. I hope to get closer to that ideal.

Oh my the terror. Imagine a world where everyone's on drugs. Original right? Oh wait, Weezer already thought of that in their song "We are all on drugs". Now, its not completely original. But their music video explores a world where everyone, the bus driver, a mother and daughter, city workers, a barber, and finally, a firefighter [who is reporting to a fire, but spraying water on the wrong house] is all on drugs. What a terrifying concept. Because most of the people that I've known took drugs because they didn't think it would affect anyone else. But if everyone went into a dilapidated state... ... Sometimes I get this same feeling in churches. As if we're all just pacified. Like there is a desire for something more, and every Bible study explores the first few steps to getting there. But we fall short of the whole "leave everything behind and follow me". We never quite get to the instruction to let the dead bury their own dead. I will live

We'd all love to meet a hero right? Maybe we'd be somebody if we had an afternoon with George Washington. Maybe I'd be a revolutionary too if Che Guevara had an opportunity to win me over. But I'm not ready to meet Him. I'm not worried that He'd grab me by my collar and throw me against the wall. I'm not afraid that He'd shake his head and walk away. I don't think He'd critique and criticize my every move for the last 26 years. I think He'd love me. Thats Terrifying. I would cry instantly. I would fall apart. I would want to hide. I would be so undeserving. He wouldn't ask me what I've been wasting my life doing, I would ask that of myself. It isn't his anger I'm afraid of. Its His love.

Imagine with me a boy who never lived up to expectations. A boy who was never told "good work". He never deserved it, but he also never knew the excitement of a job well done. He never had a taste of fulfillment. Might he never know that it could be worth it? Now picture a girl, unaware of dignity. She was never shown modesty, in any real and tangible way. She lived her life the way she saw it modeled. She never knew a touch that didn't want something from her. Now who holds the fault for her unending pain and hopelessness? It is not for us to hold anything against these people. Of course these are hypothetical situations. I like to believe that everyone that I run across knows right and wrong, or at least approximations. But what if everything that they have seen modeled, all of the negative, overways that little speck of grace that they have seen. What if it puts that little flame out? Then might they never know that it could be worth it? And who will hold the fault

Beautiful day, wonderful feeling, I feel like singing, psalms meaning songs singing praises all day long. Joy fills the weak, joy makes us strong. Filled 'till we burst, songs of praise to the God of the Universe. Despite our selfish selves, despite all loss of hope, despite our lack of faith, despite our stony hearts, despite the waning moon, despite the ebbing tide of how we think this world should be. -A Flowery Song, FIF Despite so much. The second verse goes on to describe a "gray rainy day" where we don't so much feel like singing praise, yet we are still called to sing praise. We are called to this for a few reasons. First, this life is a momentary light affliction. This life is a singular, this life is an opportunity. Tears will be wiped later. We are also called to this because we don't see the whole picture. We are called to this because we deserve so much worse. We are called to this because others will take notice. Despite our wishes, our walk c

I wrote 3 poems this summer, today I share with you the first: Forgotten Life is all the things we never do. Somewhere in the blood and dirt. Remember the call you never run to. Holding down this mangled earth. Won't someone tell me? That its still true, When I don't feel it? Won't someone scold me? That I'm off track, When I've forgotten? Death is a culmination of sorts, The fruition of pain and toil. Letting go of the sand that's fallen, through our fingers all the while.

Useful. We all desire that. Even if what we think we are is sleepy, or too busy, or bored. I love classes where I'm useful, when I can help a teacher. I love that knowledge that I have found a place, a niche for myself. We are called to be that kind of people. Creative enough to be useful. We have something in us, that desires to be more than inspiring, or creative, or funny. (And, obviously, those can be useful attributes). But we want to have a product. We want a result. He, would like for us to have a result. He calls it fruit. We go crazy without it. We seem to latch on to so many other things when we go without a product for a sustained amount of time. We start to feel that our cup is overflowing, and we have little to show for it. Do something. Thats what a lot of visionaries have asked us to do in the past. It needn't matter what. Something. Something good. Something useful.

New Beginnings. It was a wonderful summer. I got to do maybe half of what I intended to, but I saw many wonderful people, got to see a bunch of new country with my wife, and I feel pretty refreshed. I'll write more about it sometime, but its probably only interesting to me. But now I'm back, being handed syllabuses, rules, regulations. And kids that are still very much in need of an adult to listen to them. I'm ready for it, more ready than last year. But I'm also jumping back into the writing saddle. Writing isn't so much like writing a bike. I mean, my fingers can still find all the keys, but its different. But, on the bright side, that different may be better. When you ride a bike again, you may remember how fun it was to ride. I coasted down a few nice long hills yesterday, you remember how nice it feels, just as it was before. But writing is different, because when you go back to writing, it can be much better. The words meet the page better, sometimes.

The church has certainly set the bar too low. We tolerate others. Period. That isn't alright. That was never alright. We think that the gold standard is to put up with people, is to simply not condemn a sinner. We don't treat another sinner like we would have liked to be treated. We have decided that being a cheerleader on the sidelines of evangelism is enough. We root for the team, and wait for more players to show up. And that's if we ever get the courage to leave the locker room, which many have mistaken for the game itself. We need to leave the locker room, we need to get off the sideline, and we need to come to believe that we are loved and are capable of loving with a higher kind of love. There should be fruit. This should be simpler than we've made it.

Its been a while, yeah, kind of on purpose. I am always amazed at how Big Stone Camp for Christ is provided for. The storm that occurred the friday of the second week sent the staff and the remaining campers into the bathroom, and took out trees and power lines, and some buildings throughout Ortonville, but camp didn't lose a single tree. We were blessed this year to have 133 campers during the 3 weeks of camp, with 32 first time campers.   And at least a couple young boys come to Christ, with many others coming out to pray during Thursday Night Chapel. Praise God. Numbers are great, and interesting, but they don't tell the whole story. I watched young men grow up. I watched a brotherhood form. I saw the response of first time counselors and speakers, as they "got camp". Camp is a sacred place to me, I find God there, I get some time of clarity, it is so great to know that others have that same experience. I remember what this whole life is all about. As I w

Last day of school today, at least for the students. I want to come back this fall having accomplished something. I don't want to be back at the same place in life, I want to make some changes, and I want to do Hard Things this summer. I will travel with my wife, and spend a lot of time with her doing things like cleaning the house, catching up on visiting people, and preparing for the coming year. I will visit friends I so rarely get to see. I will see family, some of which I haven't seen in many years. I will go to places I have never seen, and don't yet know of. I want to see some places I may never see again. I know I'm young. But I already see books that I know I'll never have a chance to read. I already see people I know I'll never see again, visit places I'll never see for as long as I live. I'm alright with that. But it is a realization. I want to do hard things this summer. To do some things I'd rather not do. I want to have a grea

Battle Creek Something that you said last week Is eating me with sharpened teeth And I am so afraid Not something thrown out flippantly But to my heart and very core I may not see you anymore Or something even worse And in my bones Your twenty-three same chromosomes Reside in twisted prophecy Likening our destinies I genuflect. I'll hold my breath I'll wait and see Your blood is swimming inside me And there is no love Like fathers have for their sons -Always Just Beneath the Dawn, BS2   I remember the first time I heard this song, I thought Reese wrote it just for me. I feel a lot of these things. I feel the tendencies that I have, that my father has exhibited. I feel the close-ness, but also, almost the "matter-of-fact" way that Reese talks about the love that fathers have for their sons. I was never a fan of father's day. It was always a tough day. You always hope for better, to be a better son, to connect

A Ben Folds Song about a Girl, and how everything seems to relate to my father lately   The sun's coming up she's pulled all the blankets over Curled in a ball like she's hiding from me and That's when I know she's gonna be pissed when she wakes up For terrible things I did to her in her dreams You wanna see the other side What's going on behind the eyes? Still it seems if you can't trust You can't be trusted Didn't you know we're as close as we can be? -Trusted, Ben Folds Let me first say, that I wish this song didn't have any truth to it. I wish people could move on, and we could forget. I wish we could trust without a history. I wish we could trust because family should be able to. I know this song is about a girl, and thats fine, but I just heard this song yesterday for the first time in quite a while. And really, and I love it when this happens, the lyrics weren't the first thing to connect with me.

Forgiveness and Why We'll Never Get Along Forgiveness can be a feel good behavior. It is great, and "Christian", and can mend things for at least the short term. But forgiveness, and far as I've come to know it, is used as long as it is convenient. Once you can bring up a mistake to prove a point, or to correct a current temper or attitude, you do it. Once again, if it wasn't for my own struggles with this, I wouldn't be nearly as concerned about it. I think you could place this kind of "antiforgiveness" in the same place as praying in from of others for attention, wordy and "fancy" and on the street-corners for attention. As well as with making sure you let everyone know that you're fasting, or dressing in rags for attention. There are so many ways that we can appear as a martyr to something that we have a hard time choosing. Anti-Forgiveness can be particularly devastating because it not only makes the "forgiver" loo

This Friday will be my last regular post. I'll still post somewhat regularly over the summer, but especially with camp coming up in a few short weeks, I've got a lot on my plate. Tomorrow is the last day for seniors, and I've got...9 days left. I'm more than a little excited, but I also have really enjoyed the job. Kids are fun to work with, I definitely enjoy spending my day working with them, even if it is stuff that I would normally deem unnecessary or not essential. I'll write a bigger summary on the school year when I get a chance. But for now, I'm glad I made the switch. I haven't missed my previous employment for even a minute. I love that feeling. I'm glad I was able to experience what I did before, but I find myself much more at home helping people and doing something more lasting.

Things I don't understand: "It was only 15 grand" "I'll get better, later" "I can't wait to retire" "I don't care" "It's all their fault" None of these answer the question of who is responsible. They lay blame on someone else. Instead of going to a Higher Authority, and looking for help, they wait, or blame, or deny. We are entitled to the point that any wrong can't possibly be our fault. I'm good, and therefore, good must be the consequence of any action.

But do not ask the price I pay I must live with my quiet rage Tame the ghosts in my head That run wild and wish me dead Should you shake my ash to the wind Lord forget all of my sins And let me die where I lie Beneath the curse of these lovers eyes - Lover's Eyes, Mumford & Sons Honesty I want that out of my band. Its what He was talking about when He wanted us to be Children of the Light. It isn't to be perfect, spotless, or good enough. It was a call to be honest. We are all sinners and failures and fools. But some are honest with it, and they shall be called Children of the Light. They want to live in the light. I like this song, its like a little prayer, of having these ghosts (that we all have), that torture us and are out to get us. And then to simply want for our sins to be forgiven, that we might live withotu regret, to lay some things down. And then the bridge is all about walking slow, asking for help, for a hand to hold onto. I don't kn