overproportioNATE

I read my first classic novel in many years, A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemmingway. I liked it. It was well written. I'm not sure what to take away from it. I haven't read a classic since I began writing myself, and it was interesting to measure up a "classic" against my own expectations. I expected it to be detail rich, and to have some very quotable lines. It was those things. I was also expecting it to teach me something entirely new. I was expecting it to reveal something entirely new. I love expecting that, I love it when something, anything, a movie, a youtube clip, an article, actually lives up to the hype and makes me think something different. I want to do things in life that change me. This book certainly made me feel things. I feel the exasperation, I feel the disappointment and the anger that the book intends to leave me with. But I'm not sure that it changed me. Which is the hardest thing for me in reading this book. I want to be able to ans

In life, some people have been given the ability to tear us down more than others. There are some, that with a word, can reduce me to nothing. I don't think that's exaggerating or wild, I think it's just honest. Anberlin wrote about it in Dismantle.Repair : "Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through Dismantle me down (repair) You dismantle me You dismantle me" It is a sad song. The saddest songs are always songs that are true. I don't know if they can dismantle us because we want something else from them, or if it's because we trust their opinion. I can say personally that the latter isn't necessarily true. I'm not sure what gives them the power. Why we let their voices through all of our defenses. But still the voices come. We should try to have a better understanding of our own breaking down.

Sorry, if for you this is a double post, just wanted to share a (very) short story. It's set to 70 degree. No humidity, and there hasn't been any snow all week. I've got the seat warmer set to low for her, just like she likes. It's still 5 minutes to six, no reason to expert her to be here for at least a few more minutes. I left my meeting, another meeting, early just to be here. I didn't want her to have to walk home alone. Its only a few blocks, but with how quickly the weather changes, I just thought I'd be a good husband today. I'm just sitting in my car, waiting for my girl. The clock has got to be the slowest object. It is just pacing itself, it seems, when the first flash lights up my rear view mirror. Something struck against the corner building on the end of the block, other side of the street. Something large. The sound floods all my senses a half a second later. The wave of energy lifts my vehicle on two wheels, then lets it go back down, l

"There was a star in a box on his sleeve because he was a major." - A Farewell to arms, end of Ch. XV It struck me how Hemmingway wrote about the patch on a Major Surgeon's arm. He was pleased with the doctor, he had given him a good prognosis. And then we read this comment about his patch. In any kind of exploration of art and or literature, I just go into it assuming that I'm probably missing the main point of the author. All that I can write about is what the author makes me feel. At first glance it strikes me as something that just happened. The star just fell there, it just happened. Kind of off-hand, or willy-nilly. But since I've read it, I've thought about things that have "just been" because of who I am. What have been the direct results of you, being who you are? I like to believe that certain things exist because I've made them a priority. I like to believe that other things have ceased because I fought to get rid of them.

I am really starting to consider going back to school for a degree in counseling. I know that there is a tremendous need for counselors, and it's one of the things I've just always thought that I could do well at. I am sure that there are many things about that career that I'm not anticipating, things that I won't like. But I also feel like it has been on my list for a long time and I feel that I could do a lot of good in that field. I am worried about starting over. I am not sure about a timeline. I am not sure about where to go, and what specific degree I want to pursue. So yeah, there's a lot of questions. But I do want to pursue something that will allow me to have One job. I really want to have One job someday. Someday being the key word. I love one on one conversation. I can do small group, and I can do large group speaking. But one on one is special. People can be helped by just having someone else to share with. I'm looking forward to a career that

I Believe Series I believe that I am a little bit like God. I am passionate about some of the things that He is passionate about. I fight for some of the same things, I am creative and I have desires. The good stuff has been placed there by Him. But I don't believe that He's like me. He's not judgemental like me. He doesn't run guns blazing into situations. He doesn't handle situations like me, because I way shady options against pure. I am biased, I am often wrong. When I project myself onto Him, I make a big mistake. For one, it leads me to believe that everything about Him can be understood. I can't. And I won't understand. I can't understand the why and how of everything He does. But I can know, and live with the hope, that He isn't like me. That He is better than me.

Someone may get hurt. That has stopped us from achieving so much. For fear of the feelings of one. We could offend one. We say we will tolerate everyone, and every belief. We will protect everything. You cannot protect everyone. The beliefs aren't congruent, they don't fit together like puzzle pieces. The beliefs of one, crush the beliefs of another. In our tolerance, we become more intolerant than we could ever know. We close the doors to Heaven. We keep people from knowing they could be lost. Away from home.

Writing based on: Noises-Mike Mains & The Branches The idea of noises in our head, voices that we listen to, is powerful, and true. So many conflicting ideas, so many things to chase after. We dig wells, and invest in so many different things over the course of a lifetime. This year, there will be things that I chase after that I've never even looked for before. Likewise, this year I will give up on fruitless wells from years gone by. I love the line: "I'm so used to lying". I know that's basic, but it is not an innocent line. That is a hard line to write. That line costs you something. Writing something wrong, and true about yourself, is a way to fight the voices. It is a way to write forever that you were a sinner. It is a way to write forever that you found something more true, that gave you the strength and genius to know that you were once in the dark.

Bad News, it is the first day of school. I thought that maybe I would spend today writing about my summer, in the hope that I'll never have to write about it again, though I'm sure I'll have to. I did pretty much everything that I wanted to this summer. Camp happened. It was one of the best years of camp that I've ever been a part of. Certainly the best Sr. High week. For reasons that are only known to God, it just went really well. The campers were so responsive, the talks were good, and the activities all worked. I love our staff, and the campers play a huge part in making camp what it is. After camp, Shantelle and I got away for a few days in St. Cloud, just to get away. Then a week or so later we made the trip to see Roy, and traveled together to see Five Iron in Mason City, IA. It was really awesome, a concert in an old roller skating rink. Disco Balls, great music, felt great. We spent some time in Duluth at Jeremy & Karen's with some of the best p