Not really in that order I suppose.
I sat across the table from a very good friend and mentor not so long ago over some delicious hot beverages and we talked about where my life is going. and what it might look like, and a little about what it ought to look like. He asked me to become part of the youth ministry team here and I agreed and then a few days later I played one of the best games of capture the flag ever, made some new friends and started recognizing what may be a new calling on my life.
I connected with the kids in a way I never really have before and it's got me thinking, "I want to be in some kind of youth ministry."
I'm not sure yet if that means packing up in a year or 3 and going somewhere to become an official pastor or if it means staying right here and getting a teaching degree to become a high school teacher (probably English/Language Arts) but I feel this pulling whenever I think about it, like there's something inside me going "yes! THAT's the direction we should go, this way! this way!" and it makes me excited.
My oldest brother is a youth pastor and I've always loved going with him to events and watching him interact with the kids. He has a gift for connecting with them in a way that few youth pastors I've been around could do, and I've always looked up to him and in the back of my mind I've always thought that maybe that's what I wanted to do too. I know that if I take that road he would be happy and willing to share his experience with me and I believe he would be an invaluable resource along the whole way, and I'm excited to know what he'll think when he finds out God is calling me to a similar path.
I've prayed about it, talked to my wife about it, talked to my pastor about it and now I've written about it and the whole time I feel stronger and stronger affirmation in my soul and mind that "yes" is the answer. God wants me to be part of sharing His word to the next generation of this world, a tremendous responsibility and a tremendous gift. I write this all here to get out of my own head but also to encourage any who read this to think about what their life looks like and where they feel God is calling them. Your path is in front of you and you have but to choose it over another, and if you can't see it very clearly, that's ok. I can't see very far down mine and truthfully no one else can see very far down their roads either and if they say otherwise they're either on a much nicer path than the rest of us or they are fooling themselves. The thing to remember is that whether or not you can see the way that lies ahead, God knows your path from beginning to end and even what comes after.
Sometimes it's frustrating that He decides not to share such information with we who are trying to follow these often strange and unknown roads, but I believe He does so, so that we won't miss out on anything.
I can go on all day about how delicious a certain food is, but until you've tasted it for yourself you would never understand. Or I could put you on a path that I know will take you on unexpected turns, but if I tell you the end location, would you really think it necessary to go around all these bends and hills and sometimes even loop back around in order to get there, or would you just try to plow straight through? Let's be honest, we're human and we have a tendency to try to just shove the connection from A to Z in place forgetting all the other letters, if you see what I mean.
We would try to push straight through, and in doing so we would probably miss out on a great deal of things that would have prepared us for what we must face when we reach the end of our path.
I leave with this thought,
"To those whom much is given, much is expected."
Monday
The Spartan: part 3
The sky is still partially filled with thick, dark clouds that block out some of the early morning light. On the horizon the dim opalescent purple outline of an enormous covenant carrier ship in orbit juts out above the distant mountains, dwarfing them with its unfathomable size. Flashes of distant explosions light up the peaks. Far below is a long, narrow, twisting ravine, cutting its way through the hills from the crater that used to be Command Center Nine. The Falcon banks hard in sudden turbulence, the rotors straining with the weight of the sudden tilt and the pilot grunts in concentration as he works at the controls, leveling the small craft out.
Seated on one side of the open passenger bay, a Spartan, small by their standards, leans over the edge for a better view. If he survived, she thinks, he would have headed through there. She turns to her companion seated on the other side of the craft and points down, indicating a trail. The other warrior, a tank of a man even for a Spartan, gives her a short, sharp nod.
“Take us down and follow that ravine! Don’t get too low though; there could still be hostiles in the area.”
The pilot nods his head and gently but quickly lowers their altitude until they have a good, clear view of the narrow canyon below them. They follow its winding path, searching for any sign of life and so far, seeing none. It goes on like this for a while until they see a clearing ahead of them.
“Commander, I have smoke at two o’clock, could be the missing pelican.” The pilot says.
“I see it too, circle it.”
The Falcon banks to the right and comes up to the side of what is obviously a crash site. A thin trail of smoke rises from the surrounding area but there are no flames. They circle around it and get a little closer. A blackened, torn up wing sticks out of the earth and a strange angle, like some kind of monolith. There’s no doubt about it, this is the lost ship. The commander notices strange shapes lying around the ship.
“Bring us down.”
They get closer and details become clearer. The shapes are bodies, covenant bodies. Five jackals and a minor Elite lie dead in the mud, two of them showing the tell-tale signs of taking sniper rounds through the head. He’s been through here for sure the commander thinks. The Falcon’s landing skids touch ground about twenty feet from the crash site, sinking a little in the soft earth.
“Erik, stay with the ship, keep a sharp eye. I’m going to have a look around.”
“Yes Ma’am.” The hulking soldier replies. He grabs his assault rifle and hops out of the Falcon.
The Commander’s feet sink a little in the mud as she approaches the scene. This means he’ll have left tracks. As she gets closer she notices the distinctive odor of death surrounding the area. The crew are likely buried in the rest of the ship, there’s no way they survived. As for the small covenant force, she sees they’ve been obliterated. A smile touches the corner of her lips. He always was fast she thinks. The jackals have been torn apart by assault rifle fire, except for one whose skull is crushed in. She steps over the dead body and scans what’s left of the Pelican’s insides; empty. Just as suspected she finds a path of large boot-prints leading away from the crash site and towards the far end of the valley. He must have gone into the mountains. She switches on her radio.
“I got a trail, looks like he’s headed to the mountain pass.”
The pilot’s voice crackles a little bit in her ears. “Scans show there’s a village up not too far up the face. Could be he’s headed there.”
“It’s a start, let’s move.”
Moments later she and Erik are seated in the Falcon again, leaving the valley far below and behind. Ahead of them looms an enormous peak, reaching far into the sky to the clouds. The terrain looks treacherous, ravines and cliff faces everywhere, all carved from the same sharp, unforgiving stone. Snow drifts near the top, capping the peak in white. The Commander looks at the screen on her wrist-com. Ten hours to go.
“Alright people, we have until nightfall to find him. After that, planetwide evac is in effect for all UNSC personnel. Let’s get our man and get out of here.”
Tuesday
Episodes of Reach: The Spartan: Part 2
Another flash of lightning arcs across the sky, a streak of red against the cold blackness of night. A lone figure crouches amongst high boulders and watches the narrow valley below. In the flash he sees them moving about the crash site, picking amongst the pieces of the downed ship and squabbling amongst themselves over their finding. One of them, towering a good six or seven feet taller than the rest, stands apart from the group and watches the surrounding hills. He shifts his weight from one foot to another, as if to keep himself from pacing impatiently. In a low, guttural voice he growls some order to his smaller bird-like companions. They glance around nervously, mostly at their apparent commander, and start scavenging through the skeletal wreck more quickly.
With a near silent snick the Spartan’s rifle zooms in, giving him an up close and personal view of the small force in the valley below. A light rain falls from above, causing a small trickle of water to flow from the mouth of the canyon at his back. He shifts his weight to one knee to steady himself and takes stock of the situation below. The Covenant force is a small one, probably a scouting party. A lone Elite stands guard and barks orders in his harsh alien tongue, towering above them and wielding one of their typical blue plasma rifles menacingly. Four of the jackals sift nervously through the debris as quickly as they can, while a fifth one stands guard from the top of the wreck.
Another snick and the Spartan focuses closely on the fifth Jackal. What’s left of the Pelican is half-buried in the mud, its right side and wing jutting from the ground as if reaching skyward. Pieces of the ship are scattered everywhere. The rear of the ship has been torn open to reveal the cargo and passenger bays inside. The Jackal is taller than his companions and a large frill of feathers stands out from the back of his head like a headdress. He holds a long, narrow rifle, a Covenant beam rifle and sweeps the valley; his head darting back and forth like a bird. The Spartan moves his scope to the Elite below. Simple, blue armor shows him to be a minor Elite, with no adornments or tokens of rank.
The Spartan puts his reticule square on the Elite’s head. Another flash of lightning lights up the sky. The Elite turns to shout at his troop and exposes for just a second his split-chinned, fanged mouth. Thunder reverberates across the valley and thick, blue liquid bursts from the back of his head as the bullet passes through his throat and exits his helmet. Perfect, the Spartan thinks. The Jackal scout atop the ship doesn’t even turn in time to see his leader fall. He perches on the crashed ship’s wing, looking the other way. A second burst of thunder rips across the valley, this time without lightning preceding it and a spray of viscous alien blood spurts from the Jackal as a bullet tears through one side of his head and out the other.
Jackals come loping out of the exposed cargo at the sight of their leader’s dead body bouncing down the slanted wing into the mud. One of them spots the Elite’s lifeless form and begins screeching in shock and confusion. They move to activate their shields too slowly. Machine gun fire bursts through them with a deadly spray of bullets and three of them fall shrieking to the ground. The fourth dives and rolls, but not quickly enough. The Spartan comes out of nowhere in a blur, and the last thing the Jackal feels is his skull being crushed inward by a large, armored fist.
With a nod of satisfaction the Spartan moves into the ship. He salvages another clip of assault rifle ammunition and a pistol. He finds a first aid kit and thanks his lucky stars. The cockpit is smashed beyond recognition. He won’t be calling for help anytime soon. He takes one last look around and leaves the downed ship behind. He reaches the other end of the valley and begins a steep climb to the mountainous terrain. He knows of a settlement amongst the cliffs there, and with the help of his new supplies, he might just live long enough to find it.
Thursday
Episodes of Reach: Before the Fall #1
The ground is uneven and rocky, with little patches of snow dotting the landscape. The peak rises ominously in the distance, wreathed in boiling, black clouds illuminated by arcs of red lightning flashing across the sky. On either side of me steep cliffs rise and nearly block out the sky with their great height and seem to get narrower as I go on. I can no longer tell the difference between the thunder and distant explosions. Any moment now this valley could become like so many other parts of Reach, a Covenant ship overhead burning everything in its path to ashes. A light begins blinking in my visor, notifying me that my vitals are reaching a critical level. I don't have much time left. I do a quick equation in my head between the miles left to the objective and the amount of time it will take on foot. If I could run I would almost have enough time. Almost.
I check my ammunition. I have three .50 caliber rounds left for my sniper rifle and half a clip of shredder rounds in the assault rifle's magazine. My pistol has been empty for hours and my shield generator's long gone. I stop walking and take a moment to assess my situation. The canyon means limited movement and motion tracking, my ammunition is almost depleted and without shields a falling rock from the top of the cliff could be lethal, let alone more conventional weaponry. I've lost too much blood to last long without medical attention and the nearest medic is under four feet of ash along with the rest of the command post. My frustration builds as I realize how hopeless it is. No. I take a deep breath, still my thoughts and emotions, and resume at a jogging pace. I will reach the end of this canyon and the Pelican troop transport I saw fall out of the sky thirty minutes ago. I will use their radio and call for evac. If I am so fortunate as to find any Covenant troops at the crash site, I will use what sparse means I have at my disposal to send every last one of them to the gates of Hell.
I check my ammunition. I have three .50 caliber rounds left for my sniper rifle and half a clip of shredder rounds in the assault rifle's magazine. My pistol has been empty for hours and my shield generator's long gone. I stop walking and take a moment to assess my situation. The canyon means limited movement and motion tracking, my ammunition is almost depleted and without shields a falling rock from the top of the cliff could be lethal, let alone more conventional weaponry. I've lost too much blood to last long without medical attention and the nearest medic is under four feet of ash along with the rest of the command post. My frustration builds as I realize how hopeless it is. No. I take a deep breath, still my thoughts and emotions, and resume at a jogging pace. I will reach the end of this canyon and the Pelican troop transport I saw fall out of the sky thirty minutes ago. I will use their radio and call for evac. If I am so fortunate as to find any Covenant troops at the crash site, I will use what sparse means I have at my disposal to send every last one of them to the gates of Hell.
Friday
The Vault
My name is May. It's my 13th birthday and like all children who turn 13, I am given my identity. It comes to me in the form of a small, octagonal card, roughly the same size as my juvenile palms. It's a pretty, translucent sort of light blue, and I can see tiny, indecipherable little lines of computer code scrolling every which way across the surface of it. Everything there is to know about me, my history, my living compartment, my parents, their parents, it's all here in the palm of my hand. It's a miracle, both of science and in the simple fact that I am even 13 years old.
When I was born, the doctors rushed me to a private ward in a restricted area. I was perfectly healthy, breathing fine, but it was horrifyingly obvious that something was wrong. I was different. My eyes were the most shocking at first, until my hair grew in. Everyone in Sky City, that is, everyone but me has some variation of the same blonde hair, blue eyes perfection, but not me. My eyes are green, and my hair is like dark chocolate. Naturally, my parents were horrified, but I believe it is my mother's enldess sense of pity that compelled them to spare my life.
I vaguely remember the many specialists they consulted throwing around phrases like "genetic fluke" or "damaged DNA manipulators" and a lot of "irreparable". I never knew what any of it meant of course, other than cryptic repetitions of an obvious fact. I am a freak in the most literal sense of the word.
The little miracle card in my hand beeps and a vaguely female electronic voice comes from it.
"ID module A307 activated, please stand by for instructions."
A holographic map of the city appears above my hand and our living compartment on level 2 highlights itself, along with a route to the transport station down to level 3, the bottom of the city.
"Please report to level 3, sector Alpha at 0600 tomorrow to begin training for basic maintenance. Failure to report, or tardiness will result in severe penalty as per code: Elder. Thank you." The map and the voice dissapear, leaving the words "Obey Elder" on the card briefly before they too wink out. Father has gone to the dining table to read, and mother is cleaning something. Neither say anything. I try not to feel sad about it, but can't think of anything to say, so I just go to my room to pack. I wonder if they requested this particular job for me so they can tuck me away in a tunnel somewhere where no one will see me, wile I learn to weld pipes.
When I was born, the doctors rushed me to a private ward in a restricted area. I was perfectly healthy, breathing fine, but it was horrifyingly obvious that something was wrong. I was different. My eyes were the most shocking at first, until my hair grew in. Everyone in Sky City, that is, everyone but me has some variation of the same blonde hair, blue eyes perfection, but not me. My eyes are green, and my hair is like dark chocolate. Naturally, my parents were horrified, but I believe it is my mother's enldess sense of pity that compelled them to spare my life.
I vaguely remember the many specialists they consulted throwing around phrases like "genetic fluke" or "damaged DNA manipulators" and a lot of "irreparable". I never knew what any of it meant of course, other than cryptic repetitions of an obvious fact. I am a freak in the most literal sense of the word.
The little miracle card in my hand beeps and a vaguely female electronic voice comes from it.
"ID module A307 activated, please stand by for instructions."
A holographic map of the city appears above my hand and our living compartment on level 2 highlights itself, along with a route to the transport station down to level 3, the bottom of the city.
"Please report to level 3, sector Alpha at 0600 tomorrow to begin training for basic maintenance. Failure to report, or tardiness will result in severe penalty as per code: Elder. Thank you." The map and the voice dissapear, leaving the words "Obey Elder" on the card briefly before they too wink out. Father has gone to the dining table to read, and mother is cleaning something. Neither say anything. I try not to feel sad about it, but can't think of anything to say, so I just go to my room to pack. I wonder if they requested this particular job for me so they can tuck me away in a tunnel somewhere where no one will see me, wile I learn to weld pipes.
Monday
Friday
Call of the Wild
Wednesday
Imagination is Everything
Parkour is about sparking the imagination you lost after your childhood, and living a new kind of lifstyle with passion, strength, and good old fashioned fun, and above all, imagination. How have you used your imagination to better your daily life?
Thursday
Meet your Maker
So I saw the new Chronicles of Narnia movie, which is great by the way; I highly reccomend it. Towards the end our three young adventurers come face to face with Aslan, who finally reveals himself after many trials. There they stand, facing their maker, and even though two of them have met Him before, they are no less in awe of Him, as should we all be, but the thing that stuck out to me the most was their reactions to Him.
Edmund, King of Narnia, bows in reverance and respect to his King, the King of us all.
Lucy, overtaken with delight at the sight of Him, forgets herself entirely and runs to Him, burying herself in his mane in a beautiful embrace.
Euastace, who has never before seen or even believed in Aslan, stands a little off to the side, not sure what to do, but with clear admiration and awe in his eyes.
My question is a simple one, but sometimes the simple questions are the hardest to answer.
What would you do if you stood in the presence of God? Actually, allow me to rephrase:
What will you do when you stand in the presence of God?
Will you kneel in reverence to your king?
will you be overtaken with love and run to Him with tears of joy in your eyes?
Do you have the confidence to do either?
I will go first. I find it hard to imagine to be honest, to be so filled with awe before His majesty I wonder if I might just stand there trembling like a leaf in the wind and be at a total loss for words or even coherent thought, but if I somehow, by the grace of God found the confidence to act in any way in His presence, I believe I would kneel as Edmund did. I would submit to my Lord and King, my Maker, who has all authority in heaven and on Earth.
Let's wake up to a reality most of us ignore for whatever reasons on a daily basis.
We are in the presence of God even now.
He is in all things, all around us, all the time. If we have accepted His offering of the Spirit and His Son, then He even dwells within us. His love is endless, His passion relentless, He will pursue us as long as it takes.
May you come to know Him, and fall in love with Him. May you pursue your eternal lover with the same passion that He has shown for us.
Please leave your answers to my question in the comments, or feel free to comment or message me here
Edmund, King of Narnia, bows in reverance and respect to his King, the King of us all.
Lucy, overtaken with delight at the sight of Him, forgets herself entirely and runs to Him, burying herself in his mane in a beautiful embrace.
Euastace, who has never before seen or even believed in Aslan, stands a little off to the side, not sure what to do, but with clear admiration and awe in his eyes.
My question is a simple one, but sometimes the simple questions are the hardest to answer.
What would you do if you stood in the presence of God? Actually, allow me to rephrase:
What will you do when you stand in the presence of God?
Will you kneel in reverence to your king?
will you be overtaken with love and run to Him with tears of joy in your eyes?
Do you have the confidence to do either?
I will go first. I find it hard to imagine to be honest, to be so filled with awe before His majesty I wonder if I might just stand there trembling like a leaf in the wind and be at a total loss for words or even coherent thought, but if I somehow, by the grace of God found the confidence to act in any way in His presence, I believe I would kneel as Edmund did. I would submit to my Lord and King, my Maker, who has all authority in heaven and on Earth.
Let's wake up to a reality most of us ignore for whatever reasons on a daily basis.
We are in the presence of God even now.
He is in all things, all around us, all the time. If we have accepted His offering of the Spirit and His Son, then He even dwells within us. His love is endless, His passion relentless, He will pursue us as long as it takes.
May you come to know Him, and fall in love with Him. May you pursue your eternal lover with the same passion that He has shown for us.
Please leave your answers to my question in the comments, or feel free to comment or message me here
Monday
My thoughts on Christmas
This year during christmas I was yet again surrounded by the annual rush to get presents for everyone, the holiday signs, shows, and songs about what Christmas is really about (none of them had the right answer save for a few on the christian stations and even those were a little suspect) and of course the fiercely cheerful attitudes of consumers and customers, as if they're attitude was that of, be hapy and friendly no matter how badly you want to scream and kick because you weren't first in line.
It was a very productive two weeks indeed, and I had a great time with my family this weekend, despite all of that. But I had some thoughts about all that, some spurred on even by my own church, White Water Christian. They did a splendid service with all the children telling the story of when Jesus was born, in between some classic old songs accompanied by my girlfriend's beautiful voice and my own hopefully equally beautiful piano. It was followed up then by our Pastor reiterating what Christmas is all about.
So here's my problem. We know what christmas is about. We've had every church tell us the same thing year after year, every year our whole lives. What are we doing about it? I think it's great and necessary to lay the foundation of Christ coming to earth as a man, and what that means for us, but I feel it misses the point to only do that. Christ's coming to earth was a joyful and tremendous occasion, but it was also a no holds barred, extreme move made by a lover, desperate to regain the heart of His bride.
We were caught in the middle of an all out war between God and Satan, each fighting to win the heart of God's bride, the church, a passion play on which both sides are desperately trying to woo us and win us over. Satan, insane with jealousy over God's creations and His love with them because he is incapable of love, tries to lure us and seduce us, but in the end his love is a lie, a trick, and he would ravage us and leave us to die. But God offers us true devotion and affection, a love the enemy could not possibly understand let alone give. Somehow, we had gone astray, the enemy's power of seduction are astounding and his traps had lured us slowly but surely away from our Maker, and God could no longer sit by and watch his bride be lured to her death, so He stepped in. In a colossal, powerful moment, He threw himself behind enemy lines, into our world, and gave his life to this beast that had taken us away from Him to free us. But little did that beast know how powerful sacrifice is, and how much meaning there is in blood. Life-giving blood of Immanuel, God in the flesh. He poured himself out for us, and only for us, and in doing so he won us over, he pulled us out of the grip of evil.
Christmas is about more than a little baby who was born in an obscure place, in a quiet little town. Christmas was the beginning of the end, the final decisive blow to the heart of evil, forever changing our lives. Christmas was an act of war, a spy behind enemy lines at just the right place, and just the rigt time. Christmas was our passionate, desperate lover, Christ, throwing himself to the wolves so we could go free.
Why?
Because that's what love does.
It was a very productive two weeks indeed, and I had a great time with my family this weekend, despite all of that. But I had some thoughts about all that, some spurred on even by my own church, White Water Christian. They did a splendid service with all the children telling the story of when Jesus was born, in between some classic old songs accompanied by my girlfriend's beautiful voice and my own hopefully equally beautiful piano. It was followed up then by our Pastor reiterating what Christmas is all about.
So here's my problem. We know what christmas is about. We've had every church tell us the same thing year after year, every year our whole lives. What are we doing about it? I think it's great and necessary to lay the foundation of Christ coming to earth as a man, and what that means for us, but I feel it misses the point to only do that. Christ's coming to earth was a joyful and tremendous occasion, but it was also a no holds barred, extreme move made by a lover, desperate to regain the heart of His bride.
We were caught in the middle of an all out war between God and Satan, each fighting to win the heart of God's bride, the church, a passion play on which both sides are desperately trying to woo us and win us over. Satan, insane with jealousy over God's creations and His love with them because he is incapable of love, tries to lure us and seduce us, but in the end his love is a lie, a trick, and he would ravage us and leave us to die. But God offers us true devotion and affection, a love the enemy could not possibly understand let alone give. Somehow, we had gone astray, the enemy's power of seduction are astounding and his traps had lured us slowly but surely away from our Maker, and God could no longer sit by and watch his bride be lured to her death, so He stepped in. In a colossal, powerful moment, He threw himself behind enemy lines, into our world, and gave his life to this beast that had taken us away from Him to free us. But little did that beast know how powerful sacrifice is, and how much meaning there is in blood. Life-giving blood of Immanuel, God in the flesh. He poured himself out for us, and only for us, and in doing so he won us over, he pulled us out of the grip of evil.
Christmas is about more than a little baby who was born in an obscure place, in a quiet little town. Christmas was the beginning of the end, the final decisive blow to the heart of evil, forever changing our lives. Christmas was an act of war, a spy behind enemy lines at just the right place, and just the rigt time. Christmas was our passionate, desperate lover, Christ, throwing himself to the wolves so we could go free.
Why?
Because that's what love does.
Wednesday
You're the One (Stay by Me)
My latest song, literally just wrote and recorded it this morning
I think it's a keeper
Tuesday
End of the Journey
Here's my first entry to the music part of this blog! I fudged a little on some words and I had kind of a cold sooo I'm not too happy with my voice but I figured I'd make good on my promise anyhow. So enjoy! and leave feedback!
-Brian
Monday
Music!!
soooo if I can ever get around to finding my microphone and making some almost decent recordings......I'm gonna make this a music blog!!!....if I can figure out the technical stuff that is....might even need help with that if anyone reads this and knows stuff....but...yeah, there you have it, I'll probably still write things on here too if I ever come up with something again, but primarily I think this is going to be my new way of getting my music heard so I can get feedback on it and improve it, sooo enjoy : )
Thursday
Christians in disguise
So..the past few days have been quite an ordeal in the Andrews family. Friday evening around 5ish while sitting to coffee with my wonderful girlfriend, who is also the closest and dearest friend and companion I have, got a phone call from my mom, who told me my Uncle Gary had just passed away. The weekend kinda blurred into the beginning of this week, from driving with my cousins to the funeral, and from the funeral to driving with my parents back home. Something of that funeral, which was more than sufficient to do Uncle Gary justice and reflect on his goodness, really stuck with me though. (Thank you Tim) The Pastor called my Uncle a "servant of Christ, disguised as a Donut Man". This is a perfect description of Gary and perhaps one of the most profound things I've ever heard.
I wonder, if someone watched me do my job, would they see a servant of Christ who happens to push carts? If you met someone while you were at work, doing the tedious daily things you do to try and earn whatever living you can, would their interaction with you show someone who's just making a living, or would it leave the impression of something much, much more. I always want more from life than what I have. I don't know if this a character defect in me, or if it's a defect or just a characteristic of the whole human race. I want to do more, be more, see more, dive deeper into relationships with people, dive deeper into my relationship with God. I am never ever satisfied to stand still and be static in the things I say and do, or the people I interact with. I want to be alive.
This is going in a slightly different direction than I thought it would, but I think that's alright. I'm saying what's on my mind. I want people to look at me and see someone who is alive, who is bursting with the kind of vitality and unbridled joy that only Christ can give. I want people to think of me as a "servant of Chist disguised as a cart pusher". That's what I do for now, to earn my rent money and food money and every penny I have at the moment, but I would want this no matter what I did. What do you do? What's your job, what do you do to make a living? Are you really living, or are you just making money?
May the goodness of Jesus be clear to you always, and may you be known as a servant of Christ in disguise.
I wonder, if someone watched me do my job, would they see a servant of Christ who happens to push carts? If you met someone while you were at work, doing the tedious daily things you do to try and earn whatever living you can, would their interaction with you show someone who's just making a living, or would it leave the impression of something much, much more. I always want more from life than what I have. I don't know if this a character defect in me, or if it's a defect or just a characteristic of the whole human race. I want to do more, be more, see more, dive deeper into relationships with people, dive deeper into my relationship with God. I am never ever satisfied to stand still and be static in the things I say and do, or the people I interact with. I want to be alive.
This is going in a slightly different direction than I thought it would, but I think that's alright. I'm saying what's on my mind. I want people to look at me and see someone who is alive, who is bursting with the kind of vitality and unbridled joy that only Christ can give. I want people to think of me as a "servant of Chist disguised as a cart pusher". That's what I do for now, to earn my rent money and food money and every penny I have at the moment, but I would want this no matter what I did. What do you do? What's your job, what do you do to make a living? Are you really living, or are you just making money?
May the goodness of Jesus be clear to you always, and may you be known as a servant of Christ in disguise.
Tuesday
Two Hands Jars of Clay
I love this song almost as much as I love the message it has, makes me think about what I'm doing for the people who are outside my little world of experience and if I could be doing more..hopefully it stirs the same thoughts in you, and maybe it will stir some action out of us too
Saturday
Arms that Hold
Here's a song I'm working on, not done yet but I thought I would share what I have so far
Here I am before your throne, broken on my knees
Struggling to see through the dark
I'm waiting here I'm calling out to the God of my second chances
Lift me up and reconcile my heart
Set my heart on fire let my life proclaim that you alone are King
Lift my spirit higher let those around me see that I have been set free
And yours is the voice that speaks through all creation, you're the maker and the author of all time
And yours are the arms that hold the world together, they're the arms that are holding me tonight
Here I am before your throne, broken on my knees
Struggling to see through the dark
I'm waiting here I'm calling out to the God of my second chances
Lift me up and reconcile my heart
Set my heart on fire let my life proclaim that you alone are King
Lift my spirit higher let those around me see that I have been set free
And yours is the voice that speaks through all creation, you're the maker and the author of all time
And yours are the arms that hold the world together, they're the arms that are holding me tonight
Sunday
In All Things
So, life has been amazing to me so far. I have a decent paying job, that kinda sucks sometimes but hey it pays the bills and that's what matters. I have an amazing girlfriend who's enormous and beautiful heart is totally sold out to God. I have awesome friends I can rely on and who know they can rely on me. Life is great, so this got me thinking, how often do we get into the flow of things going really well for us and forget who made things the way they are? Got me thinking that sometimes maybe it can be even harder to remember God when everything is good, than when everything is bad. It's easy to remember God when things are going downhill in a hurry, easy to say where are you? why did you let this happen? why aren't you helping? Why do we so easily call out to our Maker when our chips are down but never remember to thank Him when we have everything we need? I know I'm guilty of this, are you? I guess this is a challenge of sorts, a challenge to my fellow followers of Christ to remember to be thankful and humbly follow God ANYWHERE He leads us, and not just praise Him when things are good, but when they're bad too, and not just ask for His help when our lives are down, but to ask Him to show us opportunities to share our own goodness with others who aren't feeling so blessed. May you come to see that the God of strength is everywhere, and may you come to praise Him and live in worship, in all things.
Thursday
Manly Men (Awful and old picture, but it fits)
So I was having a discussion with a good friend last night, and somehow I ended up talking about me and my friends and how we love to wrestle. We love to fight. But it got me thinking, and it makes me wonder, what if there's more to it than that? I don't know if it's just a guy thing or if everyone does this, but as a guy, I have a desire, more like a need, to test myself against everything. I rock climb, to test myself against the mountain. I cliff dive, to pit myself against the forces of gravity and the lake. I put myself up against concrete and steel rails by skating. I have a constant desire deep within my heart to prove myself a conqueror, an adventurer, and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. In fact, almost all of my guy friends are the same, though admittedly I've never had that conversation with any of my more feminine friends.
Are we trying to prove ourselves to God? Do you ever feel like you're doing something to say, look at me Father, look what I can do.
Do we test ourselves against God? Do you ever struggle with His Word? Do you wrestle with things like honesty, compassion, love? I know I do. I struggle to live a completely honest life. Something about the truth almost scares me, so I have to pit myself against my own dishonest tendencies. Something about love goes against my selfish nature and I find myself wrestling with it, fighting against the very love that I know can set me free. It's hard to show love to everyone else without expecting it back. I find myslef like Jacob, wrestling with God. Fighting against the way He wants me to be.
We must instead take the fight to God, and let Him help us in wrestling with ourselves to live in a way that pleases Him. We must give up the fight against being honest about everything, give up the fear of truth. We must forfeit the battle against selfishness and instead embrace the unpredictable, uncontrollable love God has waiting for us.
Wednesday
Life!!
So despite my earlier promises I have not been typing as much on here as I would like so...my bad. Anywho, if anyone actually reads this and is wondering where the heck i've dissapeared to, I'm back in laramie again, this time probably for quite a while. Jesse and I are no longer together but still good friends, and as of today I work at Wally World. Woot.
Ok, no more long, run on sentences, please. : P
In other important news, I have been really redefining the way I look at life, the universe, and everything. I've learned that the best thing someone can do is to strive to live as selflessly as possible. I am a selfish person, I'll admit it, and really who isn't. Selfishness is so easy to fall into, and it's always there, like it's just waiting for you to slip up. I've noticed that putting everyone else first really seems to go against the grain of human behavior and especially in today's culture, self-gratification is what it's all about. I guess the point of this is that every time I try to put others before myself, it's like my whole self protests, and I think that's probably the same for just about everyone. So...my challenge to those who are willing to give it a try: Stop putting yourself first. Start putting everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, else first. If you don't hear those protesting voices telling you to think more of yourself, I daresay you're still thinking of yourself too much. It's a struggle, it's not easy my any means. I myself am still fighting to get it right, but I truly believe that if we can learn to live this way, we can start making some real changes in the world, changes for the better. The kind of change Jesus came here for.
Ok, no more long, run on sentences, please. : P
In other important news, I have been really redefining the way I look at life, the universe, and everything. I've learned that the best thing someone can do is to strive to live as selflessly as possible. I am a selfish person, I'll admit it, and really who isn't. Selfishness is so easy to fall into, and it's always there, like it's just waiting for you to slip up. I've noticed that putting everyone else first really seems to go against the grain of human behavior and especially in today's culture, self-gratification is what it's all about. I guess the point of this is that every time I try to put others before myself, it's like my whole self protests, and I think that's probably the same for just about everyone. So...my challenge to those who are willing to give it a try: Stop putting yourself first. Start putting everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, else first. If you don't hear those protesting voices telling you to think more of yourself, I daresay you're still thinking of yourself too much. It's a struggle, it's not easy my any means. I myself am still fighting to get it right, but I truly believe that if we can learn to live this way, we can start making some real changes in the world, changes for the better. The kind of change Jesus came here for.
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