life and death

"Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry."
Col. 3:5

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."
I Peter 1:3


Life is all about a series of births and deaths. I say births and deaths because it simply isn't so simple as just one of each. And I'm not talking about other people. I'm talking about in just one person's life. It is all about the things you birth and the things you put to death.

Every day is an opportunity to put something to death--an old fading friendship, a propensity to procrastination, that sin that keeps cropping up, that struggling relationship. And every day we have the opportunity to birth new things in our lives--a relationship with that co-worker you've always wanted to talk to, eating more vegetables, beginning your writing habit. But many days pass with little change. Is it because we do not realize the power we have in our own lives?

A lot of talk is made about how little power we have over our lives--how at any moment something can happen that we have absolutely no control over and everything is completely different in a matter of moments. This is true to some extent, and to that we should always keep to our humility. But at the same time the New Testament doesn't quite see it that way. Our life can be taken at any moment sure, but ultimately the Lord is in control. We might cry foul but it was almost more like a non-issue with the early church. Death was a joy. Men sang in prisons. Martyrs raised their eyes to heaven singing in the midst of flames or the Colosseum.

The fact is we have far more control over our lives than we think. We have the power, we have the authority to control our lives. Control sounds negative, but it is rather more like the power to escape being controlled by the evil both around and within us. Are you struggling with despair and fear? Bring about a birth of life and hope into yourself. Are you struggling with a sin? Put to death therefore...

It all sounds so simple. In the past I always wanted to know "but how?" The scriptures just state the imperative, but do they realize how hard it is? How am I supposed to do this? I need a companion book that tells me how to do all the things that are just simply stated in the bible. Two things come to mind.

1. We do not receive because we do not ask. Do you want hope in your life? Begin by asking God for it, and not just in passing. Continue to bring it in prayer and you will be like the man knocking on the door late at night. He will get up and answer because of your persistence. I know it's not that easy, and not all that we ask for do we receive (wait, isn't that contrary to some verse?)--and it will take time. If you're asking for something good from God like hope or joy, he will begin to give it.

2. We give far too much power to our emotions. We say we cannot do something because it is far too difficult. In other words, our emotions complete control us. I'm not saying our emotions are bad--just that they seem to have the final say. In black and white matters we may not be so bold, but in pretty much anything else any idea of what we "should" do is decided by what feels right. Or the feeling is too overwhelming to try and do anything different with it. Many of us live under this oppression without really realizing the full extent of its presence or error.

Those are just two simple things, and they are not the "how." There is no eternal how because there is no formula. That second point especially is a very cultural one, specific (though not exclusive) to our time and place. To some extent we all have to figure out how, and that is done in the present in community, with others. But we must be willing to try, and not let ourselves be ruled by the blowing of the winds. And by winds I mean feelings.

Birth and death. What are you birthing in your life? What are you putting to death? There are so many possibilities for both of those.

But there is another little wrinkle in this pair:

"For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"
II Cor. 2:14-17

Resurrection. Because of who Christ was and is we believe in resurrection. And not just after death, but in the constant and continuing restitution of all that has gone wrong in this cruel world. The temptation in life, especially after a little seasoning, is to give up to the overwhelming death rate we experience in our own lives. We fight for life and new births, but we cannot keep up. We stick to what we know will survive and we stay there.

But we can challenge death. We can believe that resurrection is possible. Not all death is bad of course, but whether it is or not it doesn't have the power. We have the power, because it has been given to us through the authority of Christ. We can look at our lives and what has died. And we can not only look forward but actively seek resurrection of that death in our lives. It may not always rise again to look just like it did. That area/relationship/desire might and really should be quite transformed. It is precisely this transformation that makes not only all things new, but also renewed and full of life--life to the full. Oh and by the way in case you missed it, it is love that makes any and all of this possible. Christ's love and his love in us. It is the only way to true death, resurrection, and life.

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds."
John 12:24

nouwen

What is your pain? It is the experience of not receiving what you most need. It is a place of emptiness where you feel sharply the absence of the love you most desire.

You have to begin to trust that your experience of emptiness is not the final experience, that beyond it is a place where you are being held in love. As long as you do not trust that place beyond your emptiness, you cannot safely reenter the place of your pain.

You have to weep over your lost pains so that they can gradually leave you and you can become free to live fully in the new place without melancholy or homesickness.


Your heart is greater than your wounds.

soren kierkegaard--the geese

Imagine what it would be like if geese could talk--then they surely would have ordered their affairs so that they too had their divine service, their worship of God. They would gather every Sunday and listen to the gander's sermon. The gander would dwell on the high density of geese, the high goal for which the Creator had designed them--and each time His name was mentioned the lady-geese would curtsy and the ganders would bow their heads. Their wings would carry them away to distant regions, blissful regions, where they truly belonged, for on earth they were like strangers in a foreign land.

Thus every Sunday. When the service was over the congregation would rise and the geese waddle home. And again next Sunday they would attend divine service--and go home--and that would be that. They would thrive and grow fat, become plump and tasty, and eventually they would be eaten on St. Martin's Eve--and that would be that. Yes, that would be that. For while listening to resounding sermons on Sundays, on Mondays the geese would have a lot to tell each other, among other things what happened to a goose who tried in earnest to use the wings the Creator had given it, destined for the high gaol set before it; yes, what happened to it, the horrors it had to endure. The geese, among themselves, knew all about it. But of course it did not behoove them to speak of it on Sundays, for, as they said, then it would become obvious that our worship actually is a mockery of God and of ourselves.

There were also among the geese a few who began to looked peaked and were losing weight. Of those the other geese said, "Well, now we certainly see where it leads, this wanting to fly in earnest. For because they constantly have this idea of flying on their minds they lose weight, don't thrive, don't enjoy God's grace like ourselves, which is why we grow plump, fat, and tasty--for God's grace makes one plump, fat, and tasty."

And again the next Sunday they would go to church, and the older gander would preach about the high goal for which the Creator (here the lady-geese curtsied and the ganders bowed their heads) had destined them, the goal for which they had been given their wings.

Thus it is with the worship of God in Christianity. Man too has wings; he has imagination. It is meant to help him really to soar--but all we do is play, we let imagination entertain us in a quiet hour, in a Sunday reverie, and for the rest we stay as we were; and then on Monday we regard it as God's grace that we grow plump, fat, tasty and put on an extra layer of yellow fat, save money, acquire prestige in the world, beget many children and are successful--all this we regard as proof of God's grace. But all those who really get involved with God and who therefore--it cannot be otherwise and according to the New Testament it isn't--suffer and look worried, have trouble, toil and affliction--of those we say, "There, it is quite obvious that they don't enjoy the grace of God."

Then when someone reads this he will say, "How fine, how very fine." And that is that--then he waddles home and strives with all his might to become plump, tasty, and fat--but on Sunday the parson delivers a sermon and he listens to it--just like the geese.

george macdonald

I think I shall not ever pray for such;
Thy bliss will overflood my heart and brain,
And I want no unripe things back again.
Love ever fresher, lovelier than of old--
How should it want its more exchanged for much?
Love will not backward sigh, but forward strain,
On in the tale still telling, never told.

God help me, dull of heart, to trust in thee.
Thou art the father of me--not any mood
Can part me from the One, the verily Good.
When fog and failure o'er my being brood.
When life looks but a glimmering marshy clod,
No fire out flashing from the living God--
Then, then, to rest in faith were worthy victory!

'Twixt thee and me there's no division,
Except the meeting of they will and mine,
The loves that love, the wills that will the same.
Where thine meets mine is my life's true condition;
Yea, only there it burns with any flame.
Thy will but holds me to my life's fruition.
O God, I would--I have no mine that is not thine.

In the great glow of that great love, this death
Would melt away like a fantastic cloud;
I should no more shrink from it than from the breath
That makes in the frosty air a nimbus-shroud;
Thou, Love, hast conquered death, and I aloud
Should triumph over him, with thy saintly crowd,
That were the Lamb goes ever followeth.


selections from The Diary of an Old Soul: April.

bon iver

re:stacks

foy vance

Two Shades of Hope

If there’s one thing that I know, It is the two shades of hope, One the enlightening soul, And the other is more like a hang man’s rope, It’s true you may reap what you sow, But not that despair is the all time low. Baby hope deals the hardest blows.

There was once someone I loved, Whose heart overflowed his cup, And his shoes got covered in blood, Oh but he never knew ‘cause he only looked up, Now he was a troubled soul, Who’d known pain more than most I know. Yet it was hope that dealt the hardest blows.

And the girl that holds the hand, Of her somewhat distant man, Though she do everything that she can, Still his heart sets sail for distant lands, And she wonders sometimes if he knows, How she feels like a trampled rose. Baby hope deals the hardest blows.

Well some people think that their sin, Caused the cancer that’s eating into them, And the only way they can win, Is by the healing of somebody’s hands on their skin, And praying… but when the cancer does not go. Surely hope dealt the hardest blows.

Now all these truths are so, With foundations below them, That were dug out in the winters cold, When the world stole our young and preyed on the old, Now hope deals in the hardest blows, Yet I cannot help myself but hope.

I guess that’s why love hurts
And heartache stings
And despair’s never worse than despair that death brings
But hope deals the hardest blows dear
The hardest
Hope deals the hardest blows

olympics - life

in an article in today's paper on the stabbing to death of the father-in-law of US olympic volleyball coach Hugh McCutcheon in China yesterday:

"No, it's not easy to make sense of things. i remember being in Atlanta in 1996--there in the madness near Centennial Park after a bomb exploded and killed two, injuring more than 100. There was this terrible feeling that it was all so pointless--all these sports, all these games--so pointless when you thought about how much pain there is in the world. But then you remember that if you stop the games, you are only left with pain."
--Joe Posnanski

i was in minnesota this weekend. this morning in st. paul visiting a covenant church where a friend of mine is the youth pastor. and i saw something that struck me terribly deeply.

a man in the church, perhaps in his 30s or 40s walked up onto the stage with the help of a cane and a couple people. he sat down next to his wife to talk about faithfulness amidst the discovery of several large tumors in his brain just a few months ago. he talked about being led to seek prayer just before the tumors were found, when he didn't know why he needed prayer--he just felt it. his wife, through her tears, talked about the developments on treatment and a little about their two children.

i don't know what it is like to read that hearing it from me second-hand. perhaps it doesn't particularly strike you, the tragedy of it. there is too much tragedy in the world, so when we encounter it, we shut ourselves off from it. we almost have to in order to make it through. i do it all the time. and i started to do that this morning--i didn't know the guy at all.

but then i looked at him. i pictured what he might look like with hair, dressed up nice like any other middle-aged man sitting in the pews around me (or even as a younger person, like the friend at k-state who had a brain tumor earlier this year). i saw the lines on his face, the eyes that were almost lost amongst all the skin with no hair to offset it. he was holding it all in behind there, back with the tumors.

at the end of the service we gathered around them in prayer. i saw people who had shaved their heads in support. i saw older women weeping and squeezing his hand. i saw people cry out to God with various degrees of boldness in prayer. i saw the church.

i wanted to shout out and pray for this man Rick, whom i'd never met before. i wanted to declare in boldness that through the power of Christ he would be healed that very instant. but what power did i have that many hadn't already prayed with at a healing service held for him recently? and that aside, i completely lacked the faith. what if i said such a thing and i was wrong and he wasn't healed? where i am now, is the holy spirit with me much? i couldn't do it. could you?

a story came to me yesterday. well, to be more honest a title did. we'll see if i write the story, but i'll copyright the title anyway: and the children will play. watching a video showing kids jumping on car sculptures half buried in the concrete parking lot and covered in blacktop, i thought that this is what happens. in any tragedy, in any wreckage, the children will play. they will make it their playground and find a game. they have to, probably because they just cannot process the depth of it all. or to what extent they can, they must play to cope.

maybe posnanski's right, without the games you just have the pain. maybe we need to play. maybe we need to watch the olympics and cheer in the spirit of nationalism--keeping a close eye on that countries medal watch. you know, bragging rights and all. but maybe we really do. maybe we need to play.

i've heard it said that the US, as a country and culturally is like an adolescent. we try to prove ourselves, we are obsessed with sex and cars and the like, etc. and maybe we still want to play like kids (very competitive kids maybe). but sooner or later the games will stop (espn360 aside), and we will know our playgrounds as the wreckage they are. we will be a little older and wiser maybe. and will we be left only with the pain?

when rick and his wife got done sharing in church this morning, a man called out from the congregation, "we love you." and everyone rose to their feet clapping. and rick started crying. he started crying like i've never seen anyone cry before. this wasn't the weeping of heartbreak or mourning. this was something else. it was hard crying, but with no shame. it was filled with fear. yet it was also filled with so much love. he didn't cover his face or wipe his tears. his mouth was open as his chin held up his whole face. i don't know how else to describe it. but it is an image i won't forget.

he was face-to-face with eternity, and he bawled as any of us would. no need for our polished exteriors anymore. it was very human. so many people came around him though. he would not be left alone with his pain. and somewhere in it all, God was there. God the eternal.

most of us don't really give much of a look towards eternity. maybe a sideways glance or lip service. i'm not talking about heaven. the eternal is now, right before us. and we play. or more accurately we watch. and we pay a lot for our coping support, cash and more.

maybe we could take in a little more. maybe we should see what's happening in the new war in georgia, the friend struggling to suffer the aftermath of all the chemo, the family who lost someone recently--or not so recently (it still is hard).

or then again, phelps could get 8 golds and wouldn't that be something to see? it's just 17 days, our problems will be there still in 17 days. so will are friends. and hopefully rick. do we need these games? is it unhealthy nationalism? or is it truly world-uniting? what do you think?

republic tigers

the dark knight

warning: contains all kinds of spoilers. don't read if you don't want to know.

i saw this movie tonight for the second time. it was good to see it again to give things a little more time to sink in and at least let me try to understand and sort through the vast complexity of this movie. it is not only a very engaging and entertaining movie, it is also quiet a film filled with philosophical and artistic depth. granted the film is quite dark, demented, and disturbing at times--but often so is life. that is, if we allow ourselves to see it for all it is, which you could argue is something that this movie does. it may be full of evil, but in reality so is the world. so we should not hide from it, but really learn from it. there is much to learn from this film. still, i've been pretty appalled at the age of some of the kids parents are taking to see this film. there was a 5 or 6 year old girl sitting in the front row tonight. that just isn't right.

well i don't think i'll be able to organize all these thoughts into any flowing semblance, there is just too much there to put it all together. so here they are mostly at random, as they come to me.

heath ledger did an amazing job. i won't be at all surprised if the oscar goes to him. his character was by far the most interesting in the film, and probably one of the most interesting in all movies. he was an agent of chaos for sure. certainly a strong representation of satan--just out there to destroy everything. and the way he works. getting people alone, whispering into them, asking questions, raising their anger and using it against them. its almost like watching the screwtape letters. his tools--knives and dynamite, all about slashing things up and blowing it all away. he was the ultimate deconstructionist--with no leanings or sympathy for the supposed "good" or "evil." he broke down so many of the assumptions of what is good and what is wrong. and in that he exposed the deep flaw of pluralistic morality. which actually is something satan probably wouldn't openly do--it's much better if people don't realize those errors.

in fact the entire film showed that, on every level. "sometimes the truth isn't good enough...sometimes people don't need the truth, they need to have their faith rewarded." that is the final message the film offers as it is climbing to its end. but what is faith if it is in something that isn't true. it's deception. and the people in power are perfectly ok with deception, as long as it will ultimately help things.

on every level the film answers pluralistic morality with pragmatism, with what works. and usually always with what works in the immediate. people start dying, and the presented "solution" is for batman to turn himself in so that's what people demand, despite that it makes no sense. but it will work. people need a hero, so the lie is given because it will work for the good of the city. batman cannot know the truth, so rachel's letter is burned because it will work better for him to believe and have the strength for what he needs to do. which is to become an outcaste because it's what the city needs. it's still power and control, making the choices for what works, it just is supposedly done with good intentions--most of the time. but even that is also undermined.

in that sense they don't trust the people to be able to handle the truth. the truth about harvey would ruin everything, so they lie--for the good of the people. translation=the people cannot be trusted. yet just before there is the boat experiment, which is supposed to prove that people do still have good in them. but they still can't be trusted with the truth, with being able to have hope restored. faith and hope are therefore held up as very fragile things, things that must be shielded from the truth to really survive. unfortunately it's probably actually how a lot of people think and act in this culture, even those who hold their own faith.

the haunting thing is that the points made by the film in the different situations that arise are very realistic. it is probably how people would respond, the assumptions they would make, the action they would follow. you can learn a lot about our culture from this movie.

the film is also one that is very much for our time. it addresses the issue of wiretapping, of doing what is "needed" but "at what cost?" the inability of people to deal with the loss of human life and casualties--as that speaks to the war. when the "rules" are broken how people go crazy. speaks to democracy on the situation on the boat--how that works in theory but then no one will actually go through with it, will do what they need to do themselves. and it takes no sides. it asks the questions, and then shows why many of our given and accepted answers are wrong.

it totally undercuts the idea of schemers and control. how everyone is trying to work out their plans, but how easily those plans can be derailed. how little control people actually have. and that is true. the illusion of control. whether that be through power, or through any sort of rules. everyone will break the rules when people or things they care about are at stake. and that ruins any and all sorts of plans.

that was what brought harvey down. his character took a pretty hard fall from high idealism to sinister evil, and i'm not sure it was developed enough to be truly believable. but in the absence of schemes, when those fail, when the world is cruel he says, the only true morality is blind chance. that is the message of nihilism, as also portrayed in No Country for Old Men with another coin flipping killer. no one wants just chance though. that idea dies if the connection is made.

the decrying voice of the pragmatism of pretty much all of the "good" characters is the little boy at the end saying "but he didn't do anything wrong." right and wrong as typically defined don't really matter anymore though. what matters is that things get better. that the situation is fixed for the time being.

someone cares about right and wrong though. someone out there still wants the truth. is it the younger generations? will they see the horrors of tenderness as morality? that there are no limits to what that can bring--killing for love, stealing for the poor, lying for the better. it may seem like pragmatism, but does it really work? are we smart enough, insightful enough to know what it is we truly need and what will ultimately work? constantly making adjustments along the way? there are no true heroes this movie seems to say. everyone has their limits. everyone can fall, even the best of 'um.

only the truth can constantly endure, because it is just that--the truth. but not truth as a set of guidelines and rules, because that does not always endure. no, the truth as a person. that is the only truly trustworthy answer. though the movie goes to the opposite--in the absence of truth it must be the dark one who is willing to take on the scorn and ridicule to do what is right. maybe that sounds familiar to something like a cross. but is it taken on in the right way? i don't know. not with truth, but seemingly with love perhaps. can love exist without truth? is that just tenderness, which ultimately isn't the most loving thing, though it is seemingly sacrificial? will it ultimately work?

well i guess in the film world we'll have to wait another couple years to see.

the shack

this book is just filled with goodness. somewhere along the line it somehow became controversial in some evangelical circles, though not exactly sure why--i mean if you actually read it. i loved it, every bit of it. hard to read at times for sure, but really wrestles with the deep questions of suffering and God. and unlike some other books that use story as a simply poor shroud to cover a non-fiction writing, this is truly a good work of fiction that has a lot of literary merit.

i don't know if there is better praise than this: "this book has the potential to do for our generation what John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress did for his. it's that good!" ~Eugene Peterson

any of you out there read it yet? thoughts?

prepared

i leave for michigan late tonight, or early tomorrow--whichever way you want to look at it. at the moment my room is filled with packing piles. most of my clothes are in my bag, and the piles are things that i've assembled to take with me: books, personal electronics, letter writing supplies, shoes, suckers. they just need to be assembled into a certain bag. just have to decide which one.

i started packing late last night. got kind of into a frenzy with it, and went till 3am. and even then i had a hard time falling asleep afterwards. my sister does this too sometimes, and i look at her and think it's kind of crazy. the other day she woke up at 4am and thought of all the stuff she had to do, so she just got up and started doing it all. it's a strange realization to see that i do the same thing. i just don't have kids and so much to do so i can sleep in a bit. still, i wonder if i will become occasionally frenetic. the procrastinator in me doesn't help. last night i didn't finish, but i got enough done to know that i would easily be able to finish today.

a couple of weeks ago i had a nightmare. now maybe sometimes those are left behind with childhood, but this one came back out of nowhere. it is a somewhat recurring dream, though i haven't had it for quite some time.

it's opening night of a play that i'm in, and say, just about an hour before going on stage i realize that i don't know any of my lines. i don't have a major part, but one just big enough that not knowing any of my lines would sufficiently ruin the play. i have a pretty good memory so i take to trying to memorize them. i used to rattle through 5 or 6 verses in awana that i just memorized while other kids were reciting. got me all 3 crowns and the plaque in sparks. boo-ya. but now they aren't sticking, and i go on any moment. i will be standing up there in front of everyone and have no idea what to say. and all the action will come to a dead stand-still. you know that in a play, where everything is just halted for a few painful moments. it's as if one person is able to stop time, and everyone around bearing it cries out within for that person to let them continue forward.

this dream is probably rooted in some sort of childhood experience. but as far as i can remember i always knew my lines. i was always prepared. driven by fear maybe, but always prepared. this goes for a lot of my life too. actually, so much of my life and what i do is driven by the desire to be prepared for whatever comes my way. and much of my fear comes from wandering into areas where i feel unprepared.

it's a strange tension with my procrastinating tendencies. did i say tendencies? i meant affliction. but what brings this two together is the night. i will procrastinate, but i will always have it done the day before (or more often i'm up late enough to be the morning). i can't go to sleep and finish the paper in the morning, no way. what if i don't have enough time? as long as there is sleep ahead of me--to be forfeited or not, i know i will be able to get it done in time. i never asked for extensions in college. i never turned a paper in late. i was always prepared.

at the same time there are a lot of things that i don't prepare for. i just do them when they come up, because i feel like i am already prepared in general. i have the skills/tools/experience to just do it on the fly. i like that feeling, that i am good enough to just do it without thinking about it--because i have prepared enough in the past not directly for that specific thing, but for that type of thing. of course most of the time i can do it, just not as well as it should be done. it's a mixture of pride and laziness that leads to second-rate living.

being prepared. it's a strange driving force of life. not that it's the strongest, but it's up there. you see, cause the thing about life is that there is no way to really prepare for all it has to throw at you. even as i type that i think it's not true. maybe you can. maybe if i am close enough with God i will be able to bear with patience and peace any sort of thing that's thrown at me. so then i'm growing closer to God as a preparation rather than out of love. that's not good. or i'm reading a book simply to be able to offer it to someone else if needed, then i miss out on all that it could have done for my heart. i want to read more for the experience of it than for the measurable gains. i want to seek God for who he is and not how it can benefit me.

it's a good thing to be prepared i suppose, but maybe not if it's driven by a fear or pride about how you will come off to others. how do i address this problem in me? oh wait, i guess i better finish packing first.


--sorry for the post all about me. it seems somewhat narcissistic. i wasn't meaning to just write a lot about me. the point was about this issue, not me. hopefully it relates to you much more than just learning about me, because that wasn't what i was going for.

by (semi) popular demand

my running playlist. it's ok if you want to copy. but again, cds are $5*. place orders in the comment section please. and without further ado:

1. Eye of the Tiger by Rocky Soundtrack -classic starter
2. Battle Without Honor or Humanity by Kill Bil Vol. 1 -a good shorter one early on, not too high energy
3. Molossus by Batman Begins Soundtrack -perhaps the best one, time to really get going
4. The Chase by Kill Bill Vol. 2 -very short, good to have short songs in between longer songs. variety keeps you going.
5. Like a Dog Chasing Cars by The Dark Knight -recent addition, so good. super intense.
6. Sandstorm by TechYes! -you definitely need this on there. good build for shorter sprints within the run.
7. Training Montage by Rocky Soundtrack -to push through your first wall
8. Elk Hunt by Last of the Mohicans Soundtrack -short and charged
9. No Easy Way Out by Rocky Soundtrack -another good one to keep you going. love the 80s! do it.
10. Green Hornet Theme by Kill Bill vol. 1 -quickness
11. Holding Out for a Hero by Footloose Soundtrack -ok this one is slightly embarrassing
12. Training Montage by Spy Game Soundtrack -short, kinda techno sounding
13. Summertime Killer by Kill Bill vol. 2 -short, better for lower energy
14. Terminal Velocity by Boondock Saints Soundtrack -brings back visuals from the film. that will keep you running!

well that's the gist of it. there are a few more, but i gotta leave a few surprises for the cd*! also mix in a few techno songs off the TechYes! cd--i just don't know what they are actually called. sam made me that cd for going to europe. it's also available upon request.

now if you are laughing at me, remember i am a child of the 80s with older siblings and a love for movie soundtracks. i have left my 80s music behind in my early adolescence, but still there just isn't much that carries the energy to work out to anymore. if nothing else, you laugh and how cheesy it all is and that makes you feel better in the midst of all the pain. but, i suppose you will still scoff. so go ahead and commence. just don't forget to place your cd orders too*.


*you do realize i'm kidding...mostly.

the colosseum

the major league baseball all star game was just last night, and it was truly great (non-baseball fans bear with me). 15 innings, winning on a sac-fly with a close play at the plate. both teams down to their last pitcher. the dreaded possibility of another tie hanging over everyones' heads as bud selig looked down on the game. kc's own joakim soria pitched a solid couple innings, giving up no runs and striking out a couple--and making them look bad doing it. the nl still unable to win an all star game since 1996. a young rangers player hitting 28 home runs in the first round of the derby the night before. great story lines.

but the choice story was that this was the all star game played in yankee stadium during its last season. since 1923 it has been "the house the ruth built." a great place of american history and tradition, holding thousands of games and the best players of america's greatest pastime. at one point the announcer referred to it as really our modern day colosseum. and that got me thinking.

you know, yankee stadium probably is our modern day coliseum. except of course that we don't kill the people performing in the arena. no, instead the only people who are put to death are the fans.

like ancient rome the colosseum was used to appease the masses. to keep them happy and distracted. don't get me wrong, i'm quite a big sports fan of course. but sometimes i wonder why, and what it's done to me. i didn't really miss it all that much when i was abroad. it was like being free. as if i am somehow bound to it here and cannot get away. i feel the same way with much of entertainment. what good does it do? tv shows, sports, movies. i am all for art, but it is kind of hard to find sometimes amidst all the entertainment.

sometimes it gets to me, usually while i am watching a baseball game, that i don't think anything really all that good gets accomplished by someone who has burdened themselves with the weight of passing so much time being merely entertained. you can take it to a deeper level analyzing it and breaking it all down, sharing it with friends and much more. and you can probably get some measure of delight from it all. but is it all worth it? all the massive quantities of time it takes?

i guess the question is if you really believe that you have something better to offer with the way you spend your time than just receiving stimulating vicariouness.

i don't mean this to seem condemning or judgmental, and i am saying this to myself as much as to anyone. i think it's good to sometimes take a step back from whatever, from everything we do and just ask ourselves "what is this all about?" we accept far too many things at face value as normal and reasonable.

the midwest

i took a short road trip this past weekend. just up into nebraska and then back down into kansas city by way of manhattan. it was a fun little trip--great to see my friends (pictured left, along with the great swedish yard game kub). i always enjoy getting out on the road, though it was nothing compared to last year when i drove over 7000 miles on two trips from san fran to maine. and tomorrow i leave for san fran again (don't worry, flying this time) for a friend's wedding. but throughout all these travels there is definitely something i love deeply about the midwest.

i always hear people complaining about the drive across western kansas. "there's nothing out there" they say. well i think they just must really be looking then. there is so much beauty. not only a little in the sky where i have seen some of the best cloud formations ever save from above in an airplane, but also all along those great plains. they truly are great. i was driving through nebraska the other day, and its slight hills covered in corn stalks. those fields would give way to golden wheat fields, many recently cut and rolled into bales. and when i say golden i mean golden. so bright and beautiful.

i've been to the mountains of colorado, vermont, banff, alaska, switzerland, heck even the flint hills. i've been to the atlantic, pacific, arctic, and mediterranean seas. volcanoes. islands. ruins. and they are all so beautiful. probably more beautiful than the midwest, sure. but there is something in a field, lit up by the hanging sun. i don't know if i can explain it. maybe it's just my kansas roots, but i truly love it. take 177 south of manhattan to wichita and then try to tell me that kansas isn't beautiful.

of course the stillness of straight fields yields its own power in other ways too. on my way back through manhattan i got a look at some of the tornado damage. pretty crazy stuff.

howdy all

greetins' to all of you folks out there tonight all over the country. i'm coming to you from the mighty ceresco nebraska (insert corny carnival music here). small town usa--where folks are livin' twice as hard as you are a dyin'. just think about it a minute, you'll get it.

it's been a fun weekend, coming up here to visit my friends. it's been some time since i've been up here, but i've made it out several times--including the time i introduced the two now married friends of mine. i'm pretty good at this match-making thing, so if you desire my services don't hesitate to ask.

anyway, it just so happens that this weekend is some sort of crazy fair thing here in ceresco, so i have gotten to partake in the wonderful festivities. though i did miss out on the beer garden (not as glamorous as it sounds--an orange meshed fenced in area you have to pay to enter so you can pay to buy beer) and the street dance--i wasn't too bummed especially since it started pouring on all of them last night, i did get to watch another fireworks show (3rd of the week). it wasn't the most entertaining of the three, but it was quite enjoyable to see my first fireworks show ever with a commentator. in between blasts the speakers would shout out "whoa looka that one!" or "whew! they don't make um like that" or "how bout that boomer!" i could go on, but you get the idea. it was spendid. i also got to be in the parade, riding in the back seat of this:
it was great--the adorable old man driving it told us that he drove the same kind of car back in high school, the 1931 model a. and we threw candy to children lining the street. afterwards we had bratwursts and a funnel cake. so american. kinda. but fun either way.

though truly the best part is seeing my old friends ben and jodi who live off in this distant land. it's good to see them and share in a festival, a game of golf, and some great refreshing conversation.

noisetrade

free music--for sharing with friends. or pay what you want. fair-trade music initiated by the artists themselves. it was started by derek webb and a bunch of artists are getting in on it. there is some great music here: derek webb, sandra mccracken, katie herzig, micah dalton, waterdeep, alli rogers, etc. and one with maybe my favorite album cover ever: robby hecht. definitely check it out!

www.noisetrade.com

in the cool of the night

there's nothing like a run at 1 in the morning. i feel sorry for girls because it isn't safe for them--but then again i'm not so sure it's safe for me. i always pick up my pace a bit when a random car happens to be out on the road and passes by me. still, it's a pleasure to run in cooler weather in the middle of july in kansas city. i hadn't really planned on running tonight. it just kind of happened. so there i was, on the road at 1a.m.

i watched the royals game tonight too. in fact, it's kind of what spurred me on to run. no, they did not win--but the game went 13 innings. in somewhat typical royals fashion, they blew a 2 run lead in the eighth and the game was tied. it stayed tied till the 11th when the white sox scored two runs because the umpire botched an interference call that would have kept the runs off the board (it was pretty clear on the reply). but then the royals came back and scored two in the bottom half to tie it again. john buck pinch hit with a runner in scoring position for a chance to win the game, but grounded out--that's ok, he did win the game yesterday. so the white sox scored in the 13th, and the royals came back and loaded the bases with only 1 out. but a double play ended the heartbreaking game.

now you may not care about the royals or baseball, but that was quite a game. all the royals had their rally caps on in the dugout just like they were still in little league. jose guillen was jumping up and down. it was fun. and then they lost. of course, the royals of years past never even would have put up that kind of fight and made it that far. the white sox are a first place team, and they have better players on their roster. but the royals could have won the game. they made some crucial mistakes and failed to execute when they had the chance. the white sox are not only a better team, they are a better trained team (though things are changing for the royals).

a couple years ago i lost a good amount of weight (isn't strange how it's weird to talk about that? i feel like a lot of the time people are either in some way ashamed of it or are way too proud of themselves. why is it so taboo?). i went to europe and benefited from all the walking, the smaller portions, and getting to play swiss semi-pro basketball for a terrible team. i don't think we won a game. but i had fun, scored lots of points, got a technical for throwing my headband, and got in shape. a lot of people lose weight when they go to europe, but the truth is i had been running quite a bit the summer before i went to get things started.

when i got back, people noticed of course. i remember one person telling me about a time they lost a bunch of weight working construction one summer, but then he gained it all back. he said i would gain it back too--not coldly, just matter of fact like. i remember someone close to me pointing to one of my senior photos from high school not long after it was taken and saying, "you'll probably never look better in your life than you do in that photo." i resented both those things, but they motivated me (eventually at least) to work hard and to stay in shape and even to lose a little more the following year. is this all too personal?

the smaller portion thing was great too. when i got back every meal out meant leftovers and another meal for later. it was great. but soon enough the portions and great food took over and i lost that smaller appetite. i still kept working out a lot though, and that was enough.

then i got a large cyst on my tail bone, shutting me down for a couple months. i'm just finally fully recovering and getting back to being active again--though the fear of it coming back is hard to overcome. i'm way out of shape and soft now. and laying around has taken it's toll. that and lots of amazing baked goods that are way to delicious for my own good. (doesn't mean i don't still love receiving them though! thank you! you know who you are!) so i'm back to the grind. and it's slow going off the start, trying to get back so much that was lost.

i'm running the same paths i ran for soccer in high school, though much slower of course. back then we had to run those 3 miles in under 21 minutes, and i'm a bit older now with a stiffer back and sorer joints. i remember in high school, at lunch the day of the big timed run. i watched one of our star players go get a coke out of the machine. not on the day of the run! you'll cramp up, not make it. of course he ran it in under 20 minutes still. i always had to be more careful though it seems. my body seems more averse to long distance running than others--that or i just don't know how to push myself like they do. but to so many it seems like it just comes so easy. and i resent that. i know that guy put in a lot of work so that a coke on the day wouldn't really matter, but it seems like it's always a combination of hard work and natural ability. some people have the metabolism of a hummingbird, eating whatever they want and maintaining a body fat percentage of 2.3. those people should be force-fed rice cakes while plates of donuts are dangled in front of them. mmm, donuts...

anyway, the run back then, and still today consists of a nice steep incline at 87th street off somerset. which is of course where i live. i live on top of a giant hill, and no matter where i run i will always have to end my run going straight up hill. unless of course i run my desired distance before i reach the hill and then i walk it for my cool down. that has been my strategy of late. still though, there is something that feels wrong walking up that hill. maybe it's all those days of coaches yelling during the last 5 minutes of practice while we were running, "4th quarter!" and "overtime!" and "18th hole!" ok maybe not that last one--but i'll tell you carrying your 30 pound clubs 18 holes for 5 hours for 7500 yards is no picnic. but walking that hill just seems like quitting.

so tonight, listening to my running mix on shuffle, i'm walking the hill and the training montage from rocky comes on (oh wouldn't you like to know what other gems are on my running mix!?!? if you beg enough maybe i'll post it in all its glory and hilarity! cds are $5. contact me). and though i'm leaning forward to maintain balance and i've already finished my couple miles for the night, i start to jog. not a quick run, but a jog. and then i slow down a bit, and then i run full out to my street.

maybe soon enough i'll be able to run that hill without stopping. maybe i'll pick up my pace and build back some of all that muscle i lost on the sick bed. and maybe, if i keep at it long enough, i'll be able to take those runs at 1p.m. in the heat of the day.

...heck no! what do you think i'm crazy? i see people running that time of day in all that humidity and i think they are insane! they're like the people who keep jogging at red stop lights. or the ones who run because they actually enjoy it. masochism is alive and well folks. those people are just nuts.

commitment

sometimes themes just become clear--whether it's in a book, a movie, or your own life. and then you look back on so much that you have done, so many events that you have walked through, and suddenly you understand why. maybe it won't all make sense, but you begin to see that there is something larger at work in it all. you are learning something. and sometimes it takes a few things and a couple of weeks, maybe a couple of months. then there are the lessons that somehow seem to be the theme of your life, or at least perhaps this long season.

i wrote about a burden a couple posts ago. more simply put (in case it was too long a read for you ;) ), it was about how we are all "condemned to be free" to use sartre's phrase. my longing in response to that, was to just have someone wise to lead me along the way--a spiritual director. we all hunger for this guidance in our lives to some extent, though the expressions may be different. like this quote from a movie i watched recently, "parents have an unfair advantage over us. we want to believe them. and even when we don't believe them, we still just want to be with them." but i suppose sooner or later we are all confronted with our own freedom, and that no one can make our choices but ourselves.

no i suppose guidance is not such a bad thing, but it is never complete and it will never be enough to overcome your fears--no matter how much you trust your guide. even if God is your guide, and you believe you are close enough to him to be led every step of the way, i don't think he'd do it. he doesn't control us like that. in some way that wouldn't be loving.

i think a lot of times in my life i have been searching for the way to just break free of it all. to escape all the trappings that are created by...well, life. you can try to attach it more specifically to society, parents, culture, money, jobs, etc. whatever it is, the object is not really the problem. it is life. and it has its problems. there are things that are good to break free from--life cannot be one of them. and running away, in whatever form is not the answer. i feel like i've received enough grace to avoid that mistake.

ok let's bring this in. what am i really talking about here? i suppose it's all about commitment. maybe i don't have the wisdom to make the decisions that are before me, or maybe i do. either way i have to make them--and it's not going to help if i wait or when i'm older, because the decisions are before me here and now and they will just change. and you have to decide what it is you are going to commit yourself to.

because the fact of the matter is that at the heart of all of this is fear. the fear of "what if...?" all fear is rooted in desire, and this one is in the desire to do things right. i've seen enough of everything done wrong and the pain it causes, and i've set my life upon a course to learn how to do everything right. but the goal of life is not to avoid pain, or even to make all the right decisions. i've realized that i'm not afraid of pain (though i act on that fear so much), but rather what i'm really afraid of is meaninglessness. and the answer to meaninglessness is truth, which is found not in the answers but in the questions themselves. questions that lead to more questions.

long ago i learned that somehow it wasn't about doing everything right and to full completion, but just to try. the weight is too great if i think i have to begin with full assurance of what all will come of it. that's why i avoid goals, because i say to myself, "what if things change?" and this is a problem because i bind myself to what i set out to do, because anything less will be a cop out and a failure. otherwise what's the point of setting the goal in the first place? "i'm afraid of beginning because i don't know how to end."

these lessons just keep coming back up constantly in my life. they are the themes--because i just can't seem to remember them the first time? hope, not fear. gaze. try. it's not quite commitment--but it's the first step. i suppose you have to try to put yourself in position to make a commitment. i need to learn how to do this in the concrete. i can do this broadly, choosing to be with God through it all. it's the smaller decisions that seem much harder, because they are far less clear.

i'm not going to do everything right. i'm going to make mistakes. i'm going to hurt people, and myself. i have to accept that. that is part of life. and i must hope that people will afford me grace. and that the good i do will have more meaning than all the mistakes. that the night will not take my heart. that God will give me much when i gaze into him. that i am his beloved. then i will be able to chose, to commit.

if i had a soundtrack to this season of my life, i think it would be this. especially the first 4 songs.

kierkegaard

"The highest of all is not to understand the highest, but to act upon it."

postmodern malaise

i've always been an indecisive person. at least i think so. i'm really not sure. (yes that's a joke, sort of). actually sometimes i wonder if i'm truly indecisive or if i just grew up with two older sisters so i got used to not really getting my way. when your suggestions for what you want never get picked eventually you just cope with the disappointment and decide that it's better not to have an opinion so as not to be disappointed. you baby's of the family out there know what i'm talking about. unless you were the type to throw a fit and get your way. in that case i'm not sure whether to congratulate your effectiveness or question the will-power of your older siblings. (that was a joke too--ah parentheticals, isn't this such a helpful post?)

being indecisive may lead to problems when it comes to picking where to go out to eat, what clothes to buy, what music to listen to at any given moment, etc. sometimes you can pass it off as being overly considerate of the other person's need, which actually is probably somewhat often the case.

but then there are the times when being indecisive gets you into real trouble--deciding what college to go to, who to marry, 2 kids or 3, what job to do, which is the salad fork? not having the right answer for those things can get you into some real trouble. how can we know what the right answer is?

you see part of the problem lies in this time of life i think. youth is wasted on the young they say, and this is something like that--only in between. when i was young i thought i was just like adults (probably because debate taught me how to out-argue them), but i wasn't. i certainly lacked a degree of consciousness. i had no real idea the impact of the decisions i was making, what they meant to my life, how they would effect the course of my life. i had a vague idea i guess, and people told me that was the case--but i didn't really feel the burden of it. i don't know that i could have.

but now i feel that burden. all the time. the major decisions of life stare me down. they face everyone, and how you decide means so much. i've always been averse to making the decisions out of practicality. a lot of people make that choice to do -fill in the blank- because they must. they must make money, have a job, move forward in life. they make the decision not because it's what they really want, but because it is there and they wouldn't mind it most likely. or people avoid this decision-making as long as they can, going to grad school simply because they don't know what to do yet, or taking some time "off" from "real" life--perhaps traveling or wandering in whatever way. but sooner or later the demands of the reality of life press in and you must make decisions--that is if you want to eat and not live in your parents' basement, or upper room (a more modern development actually with the growth of independence--more on this later*).

it's not just major life decisions. it's also normal important decisions, at your job or with people in life. to make a decision you have to cut yourself off from every other possibility that could have come before that decision was made. and so you lose that. you lose something you never would have had, but still somehow possessed in your mind as opportunity. and you have to make a choice, for not making a choice is a choice in itself--and is far worse of course. then you lose all opportunity. but why is the decision to one thing not enough? sometimes it is. but often it isn't. things will go badly at times, and i don't know how you can continue without looking back and asking the question, "did i make the right decision" somewhat frequently.

perhaps the problem, as one of my friends suggests, is *autonomy. there used to be a time when we didn't have to make those decisions. marriage was arranged. you did the job of your family. you didn't really move because there was no need to, and no real opportunity elsewhere. sure we treasure our freedom, but we also long for a much more simple life in some ways. statistics show that hatians, who living in an ancient simplicity making less than a thousand dollars a year, are actually generally happier than americans.

the 4th of july is approaching, and while we will celebrate our country and freedom and all that, i'm asking the question if maybe freedom is not good all the time in any form. because when it comes down to it, there is no way that at 24 i have the capacity to treat my freedom with the wisdom and responsibility it truly requires. when i was younger i could make decisions because i was ignorant. when i'm older, perhaps i'll have less consequence to my choices, but then perhaps i'll have a little more wisdom when facing them. but what about this time? two aspects for now:

1. we have put ourselves, the individual, in control. we think we always know what's best for ourselves. and what have we received? narcissism, depression, multifrenicism (always trying on different hats), shallow living (when we deny the problem and cope with any number of entertaining distractions), and the inability to trust ourselves.

2. we also sometimes put ourselves in charge of knowing what's best for others. simply put, this is called authority. when i see people who are willing to make those hard decisions (for themselves or for others), i think they are either ignorant or have great courage. and if the decision implies leading other people and narrowing their direction, i tend to find that audacious and have a difficult time doing that myself. even when you want the best for them and desire to lead them into a good place, you're still going to make mistakes--and now at the expense of others too. where does the authority come from? and unless you have this authority (can it be without audacity?) how can you make that decision?

i think this is something that we could call the postmodern malaise.

i have a deep sense and desire for spiritual direction in me. i think this might be something growing in people. i read a book about the modern despair: the moviegoer by walker percy. of course it was written in 1960, but a part of it in particular stretches into today i think. one of the characters came to the conclusion that she just needed religion, but not of the sort we know. we are much too particular to be led by a church, we can maybe find the one that is good enough to go to--but to submit to it and really let it lead us. never. no, she chooses a man as the object of her religion. she tells him that the only way she will make it is if he always tells her exactly what to do, then she won't be afraid to do it. not because she trusts him as some great man of wisdom or faith, but because he is "not religious." she says of him, "you are the unmoved mover. you don't need God or anyone else--no credit to you, unless it is a credit to be the most self-centered person alive. i don't know whether i love you, but i believe in you and i will do what you tell me." he's unmoved because he is extremely passive. he has no care or passion or want for anything in life. that's one way to avoid fear--want nothing. of course she would do what God would tell her to do. but when she talks about that option she just leaves it there, almost as if it is just quite fanciful or simply impossible.

i have a propensity of mysticism in me for sure. and i've always desired the sort of relationship made up of constant communication with God. i want to do what he wants me to do. of course i don't always go to God with every decision and i don't have that relationship--though i'm striving towards it hopefully. and yet at times it seems like lots of decisions are left up to us, even when we ask for God's direction. probably a good thing, since we would blame him for it when things went not exactly as well as we would wish them or expect. i don't quite fully understand this though... so it is better to not have direction? when sometimes there is no one right direction? how do you choose then? my conclusion of the best option available is dreadfully insufficient.

i think this is as far as i can take these thoughts now. sure it's quite a long entry i know, but it's not like i've come to any real conclusions here. except that i really want a spiritual director. a wise old mystic. are you out there? oh but i already knew i wanted that. i'll sit with these thoughts and maybe write more later. and i would love your impressions and thoughts.

golf

i play golf. it's true. you might have to know me fairly well to know this--or not. but that's the funny thing about it. golf is such a strange and unique hobby, activity, sport, recreation, passion. it's almost as if it's unlike anything else. and the strange thing about it is that if you don't play, then you won't understand easily, and i'm not sure how to put it into words.

i grew up going to play at a fancy high-end private club in kc. the kids and women were/are snotty. the older guys aren't so bad mostly though. it's an elitist society. i can't stand it. but the sport gives me great memories, and it's something i share with my dad. it's weird to think that most the people at that club make way more in a day than i make in a month. ha. and they let me in...

but really, what other sport or activity is so sequestered? people make these private clubs for giant plots of land with finely shaped grass, sand, and water. topped with a giant clubhouse where people treat you as they are servants in your own mansion, so long as you're wearing the proper attire.

every now and then i look at a certain activity, something that a group of humans are engaging in, and i think to myself, "what in the world would someone who had no cultural context for this (like an alien or something) think if they saw us doing this?" they would think we are so weird. case in point: the circus.

the game itself though has a strange aura around it. there is something in it that draws people out to keep playing. it is a ferocious mind battle, the focus it requires. one slight alteration in your swing will change the flight of the ball drastically. there is so much to think about: how you hold your hands, where to place the ball in your stance, the wind, where the trouble is, where to miss, taking the back-swing right, turning the hands, keeping the hips still, holding the shoulder closed, etc. and it changes with every shot. it's all in your head. and yet you are around 3 other people who are all going through the same process over and over.

the thing about golf is, you can go out with someone and spend 4-5 hours, hardly talking all that much, and walk off the course knowing them quite well. golf brings out a lot about a person's character. you can tell so much about a person by the way they respond to a bad shot, the way they practice before taking a shot, the way they respond to other's shots.

another thing about golf is that it affords so much sucking. you can be just about worse at it than anything else in your life, but of your 118 strokes that day you hit one that was just high and beautiful and right down the middle. and you'll be coming back for more.

i have no idea if this is interesting to any of you. i can't really convey it very well--especially the comedy behind it all. surrounded by mansions, hitting a little white ball ($4 a pop with high-tech cores to fly far and land soft) with highly forged pieces of iron and tungsten and whoever knows what other metals. you're disconnected from the world for those few hours, and it might seem like you're spending them in nature if it all wasn't so weird with everything around you so artificial.

still, i love it for whatever reason. oh and the guy we played on thursday gave me a cigar from a certain country that makes great cigars...shhh! dont' tell!

tenderness

"the problem of contemporary life is that morality is based on so-called tenderness, not on justice or a sound idea of the human person or the dignity due the least of us."

"In the absence of faith, we govern by tenderness. It is a tenderness which, long since cut off from the person of Christ, is wrapped in theory. When tenderness is detached from the source of tenderness, its logical outcome is terror. It ends in forced-labor camps and in the fumes of the gas chamber."
--Flannery O'Connor


I just find this idea so fascinating. Usually it seems the other way around--that those in search of truth or those who hold up right and wrong are the ones who end up inflicting pain on people. The story goes that the monster comes out of fanaticism. This is true, but it is not the only truth.

I watched an interesting movie tonight. It was called Youth Without Youth--the new movie from Francis Ford Coppola. I can't say that I really understood it, but one of the themes was what to do with power. If the ends can really justify the means, and if one will choose to use their power for good or for evil. It seems like most stories lead their character to the breaking point, and it is tenderness, the goodness in their heart that pulls them back from the brink. This movie was no exception.

Is this true to life though? Is a warmth of the heart going to pull us through the darkest despair? Is it going to lead us to do the right thing when great temptation is before us? when fear looms large? Maybe we can find it for the beautiful innocent person, but what about those different from us? That's where it seems to fail. We have no tenderness for our enemies. Why should we? So in fear we persecute our enemies, and all those associated with them.

On a smaller scale, I think I tend to make a lot of decisions based on the judge of "tenderness," or what we might call "the most loving option." The law of love as a guide to morality is only as good as our understanding of love. Our love is tenderness, and I think it lacks the sense of justice and righteousness that is in love--and probably lots of other things too. How do I really know what the most loving option is? Well I have to do my best to try to find that, but too often we avoid difficulty or tension because it is not the tender thing to do--though it might be the most loving.

Do we have the courage to love like it should be done? Can we love terrorists? Can we love each other without being so afraid to step on toes? These are the questions I'm asking tonight.

an evening with david sedaris

last night david sedaris was at rainy day books. i heard about it just the day before, so i thought i would head on down there and hear him reading, maybe get a book signed. if you don't know who david sedaris is, well and even if you do--watch this.

unfortunately, the thought in my head of "oh i'll show up at 6:30 and that will be plenty of time" was sorely off. if i'd have known how long the whole thing would take to hear his reading and get a personalized book signing i would never have stayed the whole time. but as it was, seven hours later i made my way home after the following conversation:

david: "are you 'luke'?"
luke: "yes that's me, i'm one of the selfish ones getting the book signed for himself."
david: "so do you have to go to work in the morning?" (it's 1:30am at this point)
luke: "well kind of, not really."
david: "could you do your job if you were paralyzed?"
luke: "well yeah actually probably."
david: "so not a lot of walking, climbing stairs?"
luke: "no not really."
david: "oh that's good. do you know any paralyzed people?"
luke: "i don't think i do actually. do you?"
david: "no i don't either. most people don't actually. i recommend that you just spend some time by a ramp."
luke: "oh well there's one right outside."
david: "well good then. you can just stand there for awhile and you'll probably run into one."

i thanked him for signing my book and i opened it as i was walking away. he had scribbled: "to luke, i'm so happy that you can walk."

another things i learned throughout the entire ordeal:
-in france you can get milkshakes made with breast milk (from david)
-a french roll from hen house can sustain you a really long time
-the rainy day parking lot is actually not all that uncomfortable
-people are really interesting
-i was in fact hit on by a slightly intoxicated woman in her upper 30s
-david takes notes for his stories a lot from the things around him. one time he watched his sister lean back in her chair and get her teeth flossed for 3 minutes by her pet parrot. she leaned her head up and looked at david, already with his notebook out, and said, "no."

*edit. also forgot to mention that david was drawing pictures in lots of people's books. them throwing up was a common one. also there were a lot of pictures of abraham lincoln. one guy i talked to said he drew a picture of an owl with a text bubble coming from it saying "i like black people."

confession

it's come out of the closet--literally. very few people have known about this before now. wait wait, i'll explain.

one of the things about the protestant tradition is its under-use and under-emphasis of the sacraments. of course, going with my at-times quaker sympathies i also see the side of how perhaps they are not necessary for anything, and only detract from our mystical connection with God--setting our focus on the physical. that's probably a really poor description of why they don't feel the need for sacraments, but this whole debate is one i'm not really wanting to get into here.

more importantly, i see the need and purpose of symbols in our lives. tillich gives a wonderful explanation of their function: "the language of faith is the language of symbols" because "man's ultimate concern [faith] must be expressed symbolically, because symbolic language alone is able to express the ultimate."

bible college was a very significant year for me. God did some great healing in me, and i learned much about living as a disciple. towards the end of my year there i took a trip to calgary with a good friend of mine. while in the mall i found a symbol. it was kind of expensive, but after some consideration i decided that it was a very good memento for my time and all God had done in me. it would remind me of how i needed to fight for my heart, and for others. that there is much going on in the spiritual realm that i need to be constantly aware of.

i brought it home, kept in its box. i thought, i will put this up someday when i own a home. well that's getting farther and farther away, if i even live the sort of life where i would own my own home. and so it's sat in my closet in my room for 5 years. until now. it is set out in the corner of my room for me to remember. to see the battle always before me.

i have a giant 5 foot scottish claymore broadsword in my room.

sure its funny considering i am pretty much a pacifist. but it's the symbolism. braveheart has always been my favorite movie--not only does it have the major theme of father-son relationships, it also presents the theme of calling forth people to really live. there is much this movie stirs in me. and there is much this sword represents beyond that movie. if i could explain to you all that this symbol meant to me than it wouldn't be a symbol. but a symbol must be seen to be functional. and so now it is in the open.

well, we didn't get dressed up for nothing.

nouwen

"Giving yourself to others without expecting anything in return is only possible when you have been fully received. Every time you discover that you expect something in return for what you have given or are disappointed when nothing comes back to you, you are being made aware that you yourself are not yet fully received. Only when you know yourself as unconditionally loved--that is, fully received--by God can you give gratuitously. Giving without wanting anything in return is trusting that all your needs will be provided for by the One who loves you unconditionally. It is trusting that you do not need to protect your own security but can give yourself completely to the service of others.

"Faith is precisely trusting that you who give gratuitously will receive gratuitously, but not necessarily from the person to whom you gave. The danger is in pouring yourself out to others in the hope that they will fully receive you. You will soon feel as if others are walking away with parts of you. You cannot give yourself to others if you do not own yourself, and you can only truly own yourself when you have been fully received in unconditional love.

"A lot of giving and receiving has a violent quality, because the givers and receivers act more out of need than out of trust. What looks like generosity is actually manipulation, and what looks like love is really a cry for affection or support. When you know yourself as fully loved, you will be able to give according to the other's capacity to receive, and you will be able to receive according to the other's capacity to give. You will be grateful for what is given to you without clinging to it, and joyful for what you can give without bragging about it. You will be a free person, free to love."



this is what i want.

brother roger

"a heart resolved to love can radiate goodness without limits."

blessed week

this week is a great time. not only is my lifelong friend getting married this saturday--a great event in and of itself. but it is also national donut week! some say it's just the first of june, some say it's the first friday in june (which is today), and others think there is way to much donut love for just one day.

total donuts consumed so far this week: 11. wow, i'm almost to a dozen. i don't think i will have any problem getting there by tomorrow.

so go out and enjoy a donut. and get a real donut, not just some poor excuse for what some might mistake as a delicious circle of glorious delight.

question #1: favorite donut shop?
question #2: favorite donut?

and answer now.

cold

today i was listening to the new coldplay album*--not thoroughly impressed, but only my first listen. i was also going around the internet and reading some blogs. the last song on the album came on and it was sort of waning out in sound, and then it picked back up and started sounding really good. i said to myself, "oo, i like this." i checked my itunes to see that there were only about 40 seconds left. then i went back to the blog i was reading and i realized that it was playing a radiohead song off its page. ha. no wonder it sounded so good.

*yes i realize it's not out yet. i know a guy.

permanence

"Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."
--John 16:33

just to the left of the computer screen of my laptop at my desk here in manhattan is a window sill. the blinds are closed all the way, only because i haven't been in town recently. a piece of yellow post-it is sticking out below the blinds. i've had several quotes on different note cards and post-its there for some time now. i don't remember what this one says. let me check. it says "listen to the divine whisper," something i have been having a hard time with recently, but am coming back to.

below that, what first drew my attention, is two small vertical strips of poster tape, each with bits of torn photo paper still attached to them. i took down this photo as i was moving out for the summer. it was of a hiker walking down a railed curvy road with autumn trees all around. i doubt anyone in my room would have noticed it, tucked back like it was. that was the point. and it spoke something very meaningful to me. let me peel off one of the strips of tape now.

to my right there are a bunch of pictures of scenic locations all around europe. i have thought about taking them down more recently--it's almost more painful to see them and remember all the places i've been and am very far away from now. but they're still up. they're quite beautiful places.

at my other house in manhattan in the past i decorated my room with several big bulletin boards covered in pictures from my life--CBC, family, friends. i surrounded myself with the memories of good times. there are less pictures of people in my room anymore. as nice as the memories are, sometimes its even harder to have their faces there before you. frames tucked away in closets and drawers. i have an internet filter for facebook. ok maybe not.

the past has always been a difficult thing for me. i've always had a hard time letting go of relationships. i never accepted the phrase, "some people are there for just a season of your life." it is the reality of life now, but it wasn't always this way. transience is a much more recent phenomenon, especially to the degree we feel it now.

i one heard that we were created for permanence. that death and separation is not the way things are supposed to be. but in our individualistic culture we don't even need death anymore. we create our own separation. we put people to death in our lives long before they are ever dead. what can you do though? you have to go off to college. you have to move to where you can get a job. or sometimes it isn't forced, but each passing away brings the chance for something new, something fresh. maybe then we will have the relationships we wanted, the friends who care slightly more about us, the right weather to affect our disposition.

(side note: i think the fact that we as americans are so dictated by the weather, especially in our countenance and happiness says much about our lack of constitution and inner peace that we can be so affected by such minor external circumstances--i mean, can we face trials and sorrows with hope and courage when a cloudy or windy or cold day ruins us? don't worry, i'm guilty too.)

some people it seems thrive on transience though. they are always changing, always moving, looking to the next thing. i think i am suspicious of these people--like i believe that they move forward so fast and so hard that they never give themselves the chance to look inward. and though that is probably most often the case, perhaps there is a degree of movement that we are called to, even if we are not made for it. the son of man had no place to lay his head. as christians, we are sent out to be salt and light to the world, to be aliens and strangers, enduring hardships and struggles. and yet our bodies cry out inwardly for the redemption of our bodies, the renewal and resurrection of all that is good. that is the ultimate permanence that we seek.

still though, i look at the bare spot on my wall where the picture used to be, and i see the image of what was once there. and then the tape and the residue creating a frame of emptiness. there are times when we come to a place of emptiness, and our desire for permanence tempts us to set up a home there despite its bleakness. when we are called forward we must not tarry. but if we do not know where to go, will we wander?--wander seeking or wander leaving? keep moving till you find the way, till that word is given. do not set up camp and wait for it.

we are called to go out and to move, but not alone. i think the permanence we long for is not found in a place, a city, a neighborhood, a home. it's found in the people who are there with us all the time. of course ultimately everyone and everything passes away and Jesus is our only constant--but God wants us to have the permanence of true community, of rich friendships, of love. and it is never easy when that is lost or changed. but take heart, for he has overcome the world. despite how distant that seems from the reality of your life, take heart. take it firmly. it's not easy. take it.

george macdonald

"they are blessed to whom a wonder is not a fable, to whom a mystery is not a mockery, to whom a glory is not an unreality--who are content to ask, "is it like Him?"

like a child

the entryway to my house is made up of a marble flooring, variously shaped pieces held together by a black grout. as a kid, wearing my chiefs sweatpants i used to slide on my knees across this floor, making diving catches of my white and red rubber chiefs football. i also used to throw a bouncy ball off this floor and let it bounce high around all the walls, hoping to avoid hitting the hanging glass light. that didn't last very long, mostly because of the many marks on the white walls. such a small, inconsequential room--only a hallway really. yet it holds so much.

i was standing just outside that room a moment ago, staring at the floor and trying to remember something. and then i saw the shapes. it's been a long time since i looked at that floor closely. and i suddenly remembered how i used to really look at it. why you may ask? no i wasn't a distant child, entertained by balls of twine and rubber bands. there are really interesting shapes, mostly because a lot of them look like the shapes of the states. i used to make it a game how many of the fifty states i could find. i don't remember how many i came up with ultimately. but right in the center of the room dead on is nebraska right underneath minnesota. not geographically accurate i know, but that's not the point. it looks just like them. i'm not making shapes in the clouds here.

i walk over that floor all the time. maybe you've walked over it even. have you ever noticed nebraska and minnesota? i haven't in at least 10 years i'm sure. and it just got me thinking about the things you notice as a kid, forced to find some sort of interest because the conversations and entertaining distractions do not hold their power over you for very long. i've never been a very observant person, even as a kid probably. but in those little shapes i see the playfulness and attention that fades so quickly when we have so much to do.

so now i'm reminded, and at least for a few days, maybe even a few hours i'll be thinking about what else i should be noticing.

mates of state

sick beard

shaving is somewhat of a curse to the race of men. sure sure women too--but jobs don't make you shave every day! (of course mine doesn't make me shave at all) that's beside the point. the point is, shaving every day gets really old. so i don't. thankfully i can do that. others do not have that luxury.

however, it is one of the natural courses of things that when a man gets sick he stops shaving. perhaps because he doesn't have to--that's part of it. but also to let everyone know, hey, something is not right here. that's right, the sick beard. loud and clear--"hey everyone, i'm sick." it communicates that not only am i sick, but i'm a man, and i am wounded. i am fragile--that's why i have this manly beard now. i'm too sick to shave.

so, as you might imagine--i now look something like this:

i do actually have a sick beard, though it's a bad time for a beard and i am feeling better. perhaps i'll shave soon, even though i have made it well past the itchy stage and that is half the battle.


in other news about this time last year i was driving across the country and back, both ways. i believe gas is about twice as expensive now as it was then. who has good timing? yeah that's what i thought.

buechner

"Christ never promises peace in the sense of no more struggle and suffering. Instead, he helps us to struggle and suffer as he did, in love, for one another. Christ does not give us security in the sense of something in this world, some cause, some principle, some value, which is forever. Instead, he tells us that there is nothing in this world that is forever, all flesh is grass. He does not promise us unlonely lives. His own life speaks loud of how, in a world where there is little love, love is always lonely. Instead of all these, the answer that he gives, I think, is himself. If we go to him for anything else, he may send us away empty or he may not. But if we go to him for himself, I believe that we go away always with this deepest of all our hungers filled."

how well do you know the world?

warning: this is fairly addicting. love it though. so greatful for those map placemats as a kid!

http://www.travelpod.com/traveler-iq

update

good-/bad~:
- the hole in my back/butt that was about 2 inches deep is now about 1 inch deep
~ i have a 1 inch hole by my tailbone
- i can kind of sit down for awhile, especially on hard surfaces and if i lean forward
~ i have a nasty form of strep throat now--hurts every time i swallow, fevers, ears ache (this is getting kind of ridiculous)
- my open wound no longer has to be unpacked and packed every day (that was painful)
~ i have to clean and dress my wound with gauze multiple times a day
- i'm off that really stupid high maintenance antibiotic that also made me feel sick
~ i'm on a new antibiotic for my throat, and the pills are the size of a fun-size snickers...ok not quite, but my throat is the problem--not a good combination!
- i can kind of drive now--not my car though, it's a stick
~ i'm stuck at home most of the day, and i'm almost running out of books to read (they're all in manhattan)
- i've gotten a lot of reading done
~ i miss people. i miss manhattan. i've missed the whole end of the year there :(
- i've also seen some good movies, one of which--darjeeling limited, love it!

ok i promise i'll have a post not about all this crap sometime soon--or maybe something i've learned from all of it. still waiting on that learning something from all this part. or you know, why all this is coming down so hard. but hey, if you're in kc and want to come sit with me, watch a movie, read, say hello, whatever. that'd be awesome.

64

so i had a cyst pulled out of my back today. it was about the most painful experience of my life. it feels like i have a hole where my tailbone used to be. i of course still can't sit down. i hobble around when i manage to get up. i'm on a lot of vicatin. and i thought i felt old before. well, if you're in kc, drop me a visit--i'll just be laying around. oh, and i'll probably be out of commission on here for a bit too. tomorrow morning=very painful follow-up procedure. woo-hoo. peace my friends.

extras

sitting sick

those of you still able to sit down, consider yourself lucky.

those of you who haven't had a fever the past 2 weeks, consider yourself lucky.

those of you who haven't experienced violent bodily rejections in the past 2 weeks, consider yourself lucky.

those of you who can still withstand direct sunlight, consider yourself lucky.

those of you who are not sick, consider yourself lucky.


yes i am ranting. i'm so tired of being sick. and being sick only being able to sit with great posture or lay on your stomach. save your pity. save your health. and lean back in a nice rocking chair for me. (don't ask)

ps is anyone else considering using native indic script for their blog? you blogspotters will know what i'm talking about.