Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
My Finale
I'm coming to the end of my career at Biola and what better way than to end it than Scrubs? You see, hours upon hours, maybe even days, of my life at Biola was spent watching Scrubs. The mostly comedic, but slight undertones of morality and justice to humanity made this show one of my favorites. The 8 seasons, all resting comfortably on my hard drive, encapsulated the humor, sadness, friendship, loyalty, accomplishment, and value, that I sought during my years in college. It may sound strange to others, but there was something redeeming in a show that I could watch to "unwind" and be gifted with a truth about how to treat others around you, or what really holds value in life. The finale of the series ended gloriously with it's use of unknown-indie-rock-monologue in J.D. saying,
I will be honest in saying that I am filled with much trepidation. Note: this is different than fear. I am leaving an era of my life that was very comfortable. I had a schedule that was set in stone for 18 weeks at a time, and then was given a new one that wouldn't change for another 18 weeks. I sat in the same desk, had the same teachers, talked to the same friends, went home each night around the same time, got the same amount of sleep (not much), and every year was granted a reprieve for at least 6 weeks. It wasn't a stereotypical "rammen and PB&J" lifestyle of a college student, but I definitely had my fair share of Jerry-rigged furniture, dorm room shenanigans, late night adventures, $2 dates, paradigm shifting conversations, and an ample supply of procrastination.
But in the end, after all that, it's the people that have made the largest impression on me while in college. I've been asked if I thought it was "worth it" to go to such an expensive school. It isn't until now, when I'm at the threshold of graduating, that I have an answer: YES. Uncle Sam and I have spent more money at Biola than I care to add up and share with the blogging world, but each relationship was worth every penny. Yes, there are some people that I may not speak to again as we go our separate ways, but their influence was crucial in my development as a person and as a student. Other people are the kind of relationships that after they go on some crazy hippie adventure for 2 years, the brief times we reunite will seem like not a day has gone by. And then there are the connections that last a lifetime. The kind that you plan on being sappy vacation buddies with forever. The kind that hopefully your kids will fall in love with their kids and then you'll always get to hang out and call them family.
I can honestly say that I have many of each kind from Biola. And I'm thankful for each one. And now that I can reflect more and more what Biola has meant to me, one of the most important parts is my wife. The Biola cliché is: ring by Spring. You may laugh, but girls all over campus are having the DTR (Define The Relationship) conversation to try to nudge their foot-dragging-boyfriend along. Campus newspaper and magazine articles often talk about dating the right people, how to have a good first date, things to avoid, date ideas, and so on... and I always scoff. I mean, it is a bit ridiculous! But here I am, having taken incredible classes (and I would think this is bigger than just a Psych major), and each has taught me some amazing truths about women, who God created them to be, how to treat them, and how not to treat them, and what a marriage relationship is supposed to look like.
So here I am at my ending. And I DO wish that I made an impact on people's life. I'll admit that there were many times when I foolishly hoped people would hang on my every word, that I would be noticed and appreciated, that people would care what I think. But at Biola I was graciously given that. People do care what I think, people do care about what I have to say, they do value me. And my hope is that somehow, after all is said and done, I will have made an impact on somebody's life. I know I gripe and moan about school quite often (that's the mantle most college kids are required to take), but now that I'm near the end, my gripes aren't at the people. The people are what matter. I have issues with the system, and The Man of Biola (not Jesus, the other Man), but the people are incredible. I'm thankful for those that I let into my life, and those that let me into theirs.
"Endings are never easy... I’m not even sure why it matters to me so much how things end. I guess it’s because we all want to believe that what we do is very important. That people hang on to our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is, you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better. After that, it's all about the people you let into your life."This week is my finale at Biola. Not like a "oh man you've been dead this whole time" (LOST reference), type of finale. The ending I'm talking about it the kind that lame sitcoms depict with a man opening a door, the sunlight shining in the room making his body a silhouette, he turns around, smiles at what and whom he's leaving behind, and takes a step into the wild blue yonder.
I will be honest in saying that I am filled with much trepidation. Note: this is different than fear. I am leaving an era of my life that was very comfortable. I had a schedule that was set in stone for 18 weeks at a time, and then was given a new one that wouldn't change for another 18 weeks. I sat in the same desk, had the same teachers, talked to the same friends, went home each night around the same time, got the same amount of sleep (not much), and every year was granted a reprieve for at least 6 weeks. It wasn't a stereotypical "rammen and PB&J" lifestyle of a college student, but I definitely had my fair share of Jerry-rigged furniture, dorm room shenanigans, late night adventures, $2 dates, paradigm shifting conversations, and an ample supply of procrastination.
But in the end, after all that, it's the people that have made the largest impression on me while in college. I've been asked if I thought it was "worth it" to go to such an expensive school. It isn't until now, when I'm at the threshold of graduating, that I have an answer: YES. Uncle Sam and I have spent more money at Biola than I care to add up and share with the blogging world, but each relationship was worth every penny. Yes, there are some people that I may not speak to again as we go our separate ways, but their influence was crucial in my development as a person and as a student. Other people are the kind of relationships that after they go on some crazy hippie adventure for 2 years, the brief times we reunite will seem like not a day has gone by. And then there are the connections that last a lifetime. The kind that you plan on being sappy vacation buddies with forever. The kind that hopefully your kids will fall in love with their kids and then you'll always get to hang out and call them family.
I can honestly say that I have many of each kind from Biola. And I'm thankful for each one. And now that I can reflect more and more what Biola has meant to me, one of the most important parts is my wife. The Biola cliché is: ring by Spring. You may laugh, but girls all over campus are having the DTR (Define The Relationship) conversation to try to nudge their foot-dragging-boyfriend along. Campus newspaper and magazine articles often talk about dating the right people, how to have a good first date, things to avoid, date ideas, and so on... and I always scoff. I mean, it is a bit ridiculous! But here I am, having taken incredible classes (and I would think this is bigger than just a Psych major), and each has taught me some amazing truths about women, who God created them to be, how to treat them, and how not to treat them, and what a marriage relationship is supposed to look like.
So here I am at my ending. And I DO wish that I made an impact on people's life. I'll admit that there were many times when I foolishly hoped people would hang on my every word, that I would be noticed and appreciated, that people would care what I think. But at Biola I was graciously given that. People do care what I think, people do care about what I have to say, they do value me. And my hope is that somehow, after all is said and done, I will have made an impact on somebody's life. I know I gripe and moan about school quite often (that's the mantle most college kids are required to take), but now that I'm near the end, my gripes aren't at the people. The people are what matter. I have issues with the system, and The Man of Biola (not Jesus, the other Man), but the people are incredible. I'm thankful for those that I let into my life, and those that let me into theirs.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Bomb Shelters and Bears
Someday, long from now I will be strong. I don’t mean gym-lifting strong. I mean strong like an old man. Old man strength is an incredible phenomenon. I’m not sure when I happens but there’s some equation of [Life experience]+[age] that when the mixture is right, an old man becomes strong. It’s the kind of strength that allows a frail old man to shake your hand with a vice-like grip. It’s the kind of strength that allows a 50 year old man to single handedly lift the boat off the beach and then captain it away from shore. It’s the kind of strength that allows a 75 year old man to build a storage shed that will withstand The Big One. It’s the kind of old man strength that I know I don’t have, but pray that someday I will.
My Opa is one of the strongest men I know. Today is his birthday. He is 76. I intentionally say “is”, and “know”, not “was” and “knew”. He will never be a “was.” His legacy is too strong. His Old Man Strength built his legacy and sustains it. At 75 he built a storage shed complete with windows and rain gutters. In his 60s he built the bear at California Adventure. In his 50s he build buildings in LA and Long Beach. All throughout his life he was a builder. Bridges, buildings, chicken houses (not really, but that’s a family thing), train sets, mangers, certain things, and the all important contraptions. More importantly he built a home. He built a marriage and a life for a family that in the beginning had very little. He came to the U.S. in 1960 with something like $4 in his pocket. That didn’t stop him. The makings of his Old Man Strength were brewing within his soul, even back then. Over the years he built his bank account, his status, his education. And his strength continued to pour out of him onto the world.
Even with him in heaven, I can still see the ripples of his Old Man Strength. I see it in his wife of 49 years as she continues to strive each day to live with the strength and joy he gave her. I see it in his daughter as she provides for the family under her roof, her mom, and the families that have moved on to other parts of the state. I see his Old Man Strength in his grandsons as they still take the lessons they learned from him and apply them to life and the people they see. I see his Old Man Strength every time I visit my Oma and smile at the shed/bomb shelter he built. I see his Old Man Strength when I stroll through California Adventure and the bear is smiling up towards heaven.
Old Man Strength is incredible. It’s a force so strong, yet at the same time so delicate. His touch at one moment is full of embrace and warmth in a hug, and bubbling beneath the surface of that embrace is a strength and determination of will and protection that seems endless. Opa is strong.
Someday I want to be strong like my Opa. When I’m 75 I want to be able to carry a 90lb sack of soil like it was 10. I want to be able to embrace my wife of 54 years with utter devotion and tenderness. I want to be able to live each day devoted to my Jesus, devoted to my family, striving to live with joy and compassion, and still under the surface be able to arm wrestle my grandkids and win. Thanks Opa for your Old Man Strength.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I love lamp.
Ron: Do you really love the lamp, or are you just saying it because you saw it?
Brick: I love lamp. I love lamp.
---------------
This has been on my mind for a while but I haven't been able to articulate it until now. Have you heard the song, "God of Wonders"? It's a few years old, and unfortunately is sometimes sung more cheesy than "Happy Birthday". (Cheesy Christian worship music will be saved for another blog day.)
There is a few lines in the song that say, "God of wonders beyond our galaxy... The universe declares your majesty... Early in the morning I will celebrate the light... God of wonders beyond our galaxy..."
I realize that God is BIG! The universe is big; God is BIG. There is a difference. To be big infers size. Mountains are big, stars are big, my bank account is not big. To be BIG is so much more. It saddens me that sometimes people sing songs about how BIG God is, or read scriptures about how BIG God is, and jump straight to the size of God and how large He is. Yes, God is big. So big He made the universe, stars, and my bank account. But there is so much more to God and how BIG he is.
Have you ever thought while you sang worship songs, "How is this possible?" I know that some people are more scientifically minded than others, and so obviously the answer for some people is, "nope!" Well, I do. It was during a particularly less cheesy version of this song that I thought what it meant that God is bigger than the universe and to celebrate light.
Now for a journey:
A projector screen shines light onto a flat, white surface. The surface reflects the light to your eyes. The lens in your eyes flips the image upside down and projects it onto your retina. Your optic nerve connected to the retina sends the image to the brain. The brain flips the image. Simultaneously the brain figures out the differences in light and dark areas, makes sense of the symbols, and sends the information to another part of your brain. This part of the brain tells your diaphragm to contract, pushing air out of your lungs. The air passes through your voice box, vibrating your vocal chords. Another part of your brain (simultaneously) tells the muscles around your vocal chords how much to contract and relax, the muscles in your mouth how much to contract and relax, and now you are singing. At this point another part of your brain is monitoring how much air you have in your lungs and when you'll need to breath again, the pitch of the noise you are making and how to correct and match the sounds around you, and when the words change to make different sounds.
WOW!!!!
All that just so you can say, "G-" You haven't even gotten to the "-od of wonders" part!! Too often I think people get hung up on "beyond" being farther than something. I object. God's "beyond" beings Him closer. When I think of beyond, I see light around me, dirt in my fingernails, and ice-cubes conducting cold into my beverage. When I think of beyond, I think of BIG. I think of the God that knows the intricacies of everything, where it comes from, where it's been, how it works, and where it's going. When I think of beyond, I see the lamp sitting next to me and realize that without friction I wouldn't be able to turn the switch on; without the incredible body that God has created, I wouldn't be able to see the light that comes from the lamp.
Think about that next time your go for a walk. What would your walk look like if God didn't think up gravity? Next time you take a test, what would it be like if paper didn't reflect light and your brain couldn't read it. Next time you're at a stop like, what would it be like if there was no friction for your tires to grab the road? Next time you sing the song, "God of Wonders" what would it be like if we realized that there are wonders much closer than stars and galaxies that are equally, if not more, wondrous!
I love lamp!
And in honor of all things lamp, a photo of the best lamp. Because I've heard that blog entries are more exciting with photos. And what lamp is more exciting than this:
Brick: I love lamp. I love lamp.
---------------
This has been on my mind for a while but I haven't been able to articulate it until now. Have you heard the song, "God of Wonders"? It's a few years old, and unfortunately is sometimes sung more cheesy than "Happy Birthday". (Cheesy Christian worship music will be saved for another blog day.)
There is a few lines in the song that say, "God of wonders beyond our galaxy... The universe declares your majesty... Early in the morning I will celebrate the light... God of wonders beyond our galaxy..."
I realize that God is BIG! The universe is big; God is BIG. There is a difference. To be big infers size. Mountains are big, stars are big, my bank account is not big. To be BIG is so much more. It saddens me that sometimes people sing songs about how BIG God is, or read scriptures about how BIG God is, and jump straight to the size of God and how large He is. Yes, God is big. So big He made the universe, stars, and my bank account. But there is so much more to God and how BIG he is.
Have you ever thought while you sang worship songs, "How is this possible?" I know that some people are more scientifically minded than others, and so obviously the answer for some people is, "nope!" Well, I do. It was during a particularly less cheesy version of this song that I thought what it meant that God is bigger than the universe and to celebrate light.
Now for a journey:
A projector screen shines light onto a flat, white surface. The surface reflects the light to your eyes. The lens in your eyes flips the image upside down and projects it onto your retina. Your optic nerve connected to the retina sends the image to the brain. The brain flips the image. Simultaneously the brain figures out the differences in light and dark areas, makes sense of the symbols, and sends the information to another part of your brain. This part of the brain tells your diaphragm to contract, pushing air out of your lungs. The air passes through your voice box, vibrating your vocal chords. Another part of your brain (simultaneously) tells the muscles around your vocal chords how much to contract and relax, the muscles in your mouth how much to contract and relax, and now you are singing. At this point another part of your brain is monitoring how much air you have in your lungs and when you'll need to breath again, the pitch of the noise you are making and how to correct and match the sounds around you, and when the words change to make different sounds.
WOW!!!!
All that just so you can say, "G-" You haven't even gotten to the "-od of wonders" part!! Too often I think people get hung up on "beyond" being farther than something. I object. God's "beyond" beings Him closer. When I think of beyond, I see light around me, dirt in my fingernails, and ice-cubes conducting cold into my beverage. When I think of beyond, I think of BIG. I think of the God that knows the intricacies of everything, where it comes from, where it's been, how it works, and where it's going. When I think of beyond, I see the lamp sitting next to me and realize that without friction I wouldn't be able to turn the switch on; without the incredible body that God has created, I wouldn't be able to see the light that comes from the lamp.
Think about that next time your go for a walk. What would your walk look like if God didn't think up gravity? Next time you take a test, what would it be like if paper didn't reflect light and your brain couldn't read it. Next time you're at a stop like, what would it be like if there was no friction for your tires to grab the road? Next time you sing the song, "God of Wonders" what would it be like if we realized that there are wonders much closer than stars and galaxies that are equally, if not more, wondrous!
I love lamp!
And in honor of all things lamp, a photo of the best lamp. Because I've heard that blog entries are more exciting with photos. And what lamp is more exciting than this:
ANSWER: NONE.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Dear Brian...
Can you do me a favor? It's easy. Can you drive a Toyota Sienna, head down to Mexico, sleep in the dirt, and minister to kids for a week? There's a catch: you'll be sleeping next to roosters that don't understand when to crow, in a cow field, it will be super windy so likely you won't sleep much, you can't shower, and I'll be messing with your team before you go? Oh, and the lesson of "Duck and Cover" might come in handy. Sound good? Thanks! I'll meet you there.
Love,
God.
-----------------------------------------------
I know I've slacked a bit on the blogging front. I've had a lot going on in my life the past few months, and most of that has taken a lot of processing internally; not quite blogging material. But today, I return and what's on my mind is Santo Niño, Cuernavaca, and the Mexicali Valley. Some of you may know that I went with my church to Mexico over Spring break. We took about 70 high school students, and 30 adults and translators. We split into 6 teams of 15 or so, and had a drama team. Each team went to their own church to partner and do ministry. It was awesome. And now that I'm back, it has taken almost three weeks to work through in my head how I've grown, and where God revealed himself to us throughout the week.
Often we are jaded by the unrealistic stories in the Bible. I mean, really? Sitting in the belly of a fish for 3 days... people scattered throughout the Earth and languages changed... a flood covering the Earth and drowning everybody... people dropping dead because they lied about how much they tithe... spit in the dirt to heal blindness... the stories go on, and on, and on...
But I can honestly say that scriptures are alive, dynamic, and relevant today. The healing in the Bible happens today, the phenomena in the Bible also happen today, the revelations of God still happen today! Mexicali this year was a revelation of how real and incredible scripture is for us.
We went down to Mexico with the idea of, "We're going to do ministry WITH the churches of Mexicali, not FOR the churches. We're going where God already is." So we searched for God in what we did, people we met, and experiences we had.
The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind.
And there was wind! The squished tent is mine. All day, all night, for a few days non-stop. It was brutal. Tents were ripping, poles were snapping, chairs were flying across the camp, it was difficult to drive, play soccer, and really just be anywhere in the wind. Oleg actually got trapped in his tent for a bit because the wind was holding the door of his tent shut.
After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
And the ground shook! We happened to be in Wal-Mart during the quake. 7.2 centered just outside of Mexicali. I can honestly say that it was terrifying. We knew God's protection was over us. Without a dought he brought us all through that. But protection and presence passing by are two different things. And we still searched for God.
"After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper."
Se llama Daniel. (His name is Daniel) Those on my team might say that "gentle" wouldn't necessarily encompass who Daniel is. I would object. Yes, he played a bit rough, wrestling was one of his most favorite past times, but he was such a wonderful kid to just sit and have a conversation with. He was one of the sweetest boys at our village. And on Wednesday, after the winds, after the earthquake, and after the fires from the earthquakes were extinguished, we felt God's presence.
When I say feel, I mean like dripping off our fingertips, air almost too heavy to breath, the only reaction was to succumb to the tears welling up in our eyes. God was there. There was so much love that He moved 8 kids to accept the death of the Son as a sacrifice for their sins and desire to follow him for the rest of their life. And Daniel prayed with passion and conviction that he was sinful and Jesus was the only answer.
We searched for God's presence all week. Please don't read this as, "God didn't show up til Wednesday." That's definitely not what I mean. God was there. God protected our team of 100 people during a 7.2 earthquake and hundreds of aftershocks, God delivered us from the winds and allowed ministry to still happen, God broke down the barriers of insecurity and shame to bring together an incredible team that was able to be open and real with each other.
But God's presence, for me, was evident on Wednesday. And now it's almost three weeks later, I still haven't been able to shake that feeling and image form my mind, and the truth of scriptures is brought to my attention.
How incredible is that the stories and scriptures about Elijah still hold truth and power today?
I love experiences like this where the scriptures come alive. I love when God's love and desire becomes so real that the only response is the fall on my knees in awe and joy. I love when I find myself so deep in the reality of God's mercy and plan for humanity, that there is no distinction between my tears of joy and the waters of grace in which I wade.
-----------------------------------------------
Dear God,
Thank you!Love,
Brian
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
the white plastic chair
Puberty.
Yep, that's how this blog begins: puberty. It's a wondrous time of squeaks and squawks, among other things. It's a time of adventure and bike riding, making bad decisions, and trying to figure out who you are going to be for the rest of your life. In academic terms, this period is known as "differentiation" or by a person seeking "autonomy". Basically, the kid just wants to be able to say, "You're not the boss of me!" and it to be true.
Well I was not a normal pubert. My time of puberty began in a terribly harsh and humiliating way. To spare the details, which a lot of people know, (if you are one of those that don't know what I'm talking about, then keep checking back and I'll tell the story another time) I was in a car accident. The broken bones and damage to my body made movement quite difficult. I had a walker for 8 minutes, a cane for a couple days, and then it was my pride that helped me stand and walk. Well, because the accident happened in the mountains and because I was shirtless at the time, my body was covered in dirt, mud, sticks, and all around foresty. I had the Sequioa National Forrest plastered to my body. The glue to keep it on: my own blood.
This is not a pleasant experience. But I couldn't move. I could sort of stand and walk super slow, but any amount of flexibility was out of the question. So as a young pubert, I had to do one of the most difficult things a 14-year old could imagine: "Dad, will you give me a shower?"
So my dad (who is my hero) donned his board shorts, put a white plastic chair in the shower, and away we went. Try to picture that for a moment. 14-years-old and your parent has to give you a shower. Not once, not twice, but a few times. This isn't a cute scene of a baby sitting in the kitchen sink. Imagine how humbling it is to call your dad and ask him to drive over so he can give you a shower.
I've been thinking a lot lately about this specific time in my life. We were singing at church on Sunday and the lyrics said, "Word of God speak, would you pour down like rain, washing my eyes to see your majesty." All I could picture was Jesus washing me on that same plastic chair in the shower at our old house. Scrubbing my eyes, washing my hair, rinsing between my toes and behind my ears...
If it was humbling to have my dad give me a shower, how in the world am I to survive my Dad giving me a shower?
Yet, I desire it. And frankly, I need it.
So...Jesus.... I know where I can get a plastic chair. This will be a difficult for me, but will You give me a shower? I smell.
Yep, that's how this blog begins: puberty. It's a wondrous time of squeaks and squawks, among other things. It's a time of adventure and bike riding, making bad decisions, and trying to figure out who you are going to be for the rest of your life. In academic terms, this period is known as "differentiation" or by a person seeking "autonomy". Basically, the kid just wants to be able to say, "You're not the boss of me!" and it to be true.
Well I was not a normal pubert. My time of puberty began in a terribly harsh and humiliating way. To spare the details, which a lot of people know, (if you are one of those that don't know what I'm talking about, then keep checking back and I'll tell the story another time) I was in a car accident. The broken bones and damage to my body made movement quite difficult. I had a walker for 8 minutes, a cane for a couple days, and then it was my pride that helped me stand and walk. Well, because the accident happened in the mountains and because I was shirtless at the time, my body was covered in dirt, mud, sticks, and all around foresty. I had the Sequioa National Forrest plastered to my body. The glue to keep it on: my own blood.
This is not a pleasant experience. But I couldn't move. I could sort of stand and walk super slow, but any amount of flexibility was out of the question. So as a young pubert, I had to do one of the most difficult things a 14-year old could imagine: "Dad, will you give me a shower?"
So my dad (who is my hero) donned his board shorts, put a white plastic chair in the shower, and away we went. Try to picture that for a moment. 14-years-old and your parent has to give you a shower. Not once, not twice, but a few times. This isn't a cute scene of a baby sitting in the kitchen sink. Imagine how humbling it is to call your dad and ask him to drive over so he can give you a shower.
I've been thinking a lot lately about this specific time in my life. We were singing at church on Sunday and the lyrics said, "Word of God speak, would you pour down like rain, washing my eyes to see your majesty." All I could picture was Jesus washing me on that same plastic chair in the shower at our old house. Scrubbing my eyes, washing my hair, rinsing between my toes and behind my ears...
If it was humbling to have my dad give me a shower, how in the world am I to survive my Dad giving me a shower?
Yet, I desire it. And frankly, I need it.
So...Jesus.... I know where I can get a plastic chair. This will be a difficult for me, but will You give me a shower? I smell.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
A Whisper in the Background
It was about ten or so years ago that I was riding in the car with my dad and my older brother. I have no idea where we were going, but naturally, we were listening to good music. This time it was The Doors "Riders on a Storm." We were probably in the amazing White Suburban (there are many stories along with that car) and we were listening to the radio when the song came on. My dad had taught me mountains of valuable knowledge, and it was on this occasion that he felt it was time to teach me yet again.
"Listen," he said, "in the background of the song, he's whispering the words."
I was around 10 years old when this happened. At the time I smiled a cowardly smile and said, "wow..." I had NO idea what he was talking about. I listened as hard as I could, but nothing. I just heard, "riders on the storm....riders on the storm.....into this house we're born, into this world we're thrown....riders on the storm..."
No whisper. Just a creepy song. Fast-forward a few years. Maybe it was just the technology that had changed, however I would like to think that my maturity took some part, but I was listening to the same song on an iPod. The first generation. The goofy looking one with the four buttons on the top. The song comes on and here I was listening as HARD as I could for this stinkin' whisper.
Voilà!!! There it was! Jim Morrison's raspy whisper, hidden behind the guitar! It was there. The Doors had come through!
For some people, you'll read this and think: "What the heck are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?" Well....it actually makes perfect sense to me. And since it's my blog and my blue chair, I can write whatever I please.
I've been thinking about the doors lately. That is, doors with a little "d"; not Jim Morrison and his band of miscreants. I'm at a time in my life when doors are all over the place. But it has taken me a long time to figure out which I am supposed to go through. I know that soon, very soon, the door that I am in will be closing. I'm in the threshold and I can feel the door closing and bumping my heels.
I feel like I've been searching for a while, and it wasn't until recently that I could finally hear the whisper behind the door. I was afraid that the door would close and I'd be left outside. That's not a comfortable feeling, especially for the soon-to-graduate, newly-married, male. There's something about not knowing what's going to happen next, that terrifies men. And for those of you men that disagree, I call you a liar. God designed in us a drive to sustain, a drive to comfort, a drive to protect, a drive to provide. And when we don't know how that's going to work out, it's scary.
But recently I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out the door that God has for me. And I think I found the direction. That doesn't mean I found the door. It simply means, "set sail in a...uh...a general...that way! direction."
We have our heading. It's not a "compass that doesn't point north", by which I find guidance. It's the whisper behind the door. I can finally hear it. I know it's out there. I'm catching up. Somewhere down the hall there is the door God is waiting for me to open. It's frustrating that along the way that I'll find door after door to be locked. But now that I know there is a door out there, it only strengthens my resolve. I just need to listen carefully. I'll find it.
"Listen," he said, "in the background of the song, he's whispering the words."
I was around 10 years old when this happened. At the time I smiled a cowardly smile and said, "wow..." I had NO idea what he was talking about. I listened as hard as I could, but nothing. I just heard, "riders on the storm....riders on the storm.....into this house we're born, into this world we're thrown....riders on the storm..."
No whisper. Just a creepy song. Fast-forward a few years. Maybe it was just the technology that had changed, however I would like to think that my maturity took some part, but I was listening to the same song on an iPod. The first generation. The goofy looking one with the four buttons on the top. The song comes on and here I was listening as HARD as I could for this stinkin' whisper.
Voilà!!! There it was! Jim Morrison's raspy whisper, hidden behind the guitar! It was there. The Doors had come through!
For some people, you'll read this and think: "What the heck are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?" Well....it actually makes perfect sense to me. And since it's my blog and my blue chair, I can write whatever I please.
I've been thinking about the doors lately. That is, doors with a little "d"; not Jim Morrison and his band of miscreants. I'm at a time in my life when doors are all over the place. But it has taken me a long time to figure out which I am supposed to go through. I know that soon, very soon, the door that I am in will be closing. I'm in the threshold and I can feel the door closing and bumping my heels.
I feel like I've been searching for a while, and it wasn't until recently that I could finally hear the whisper behind the door. I was afraid that the door would close and I'd be left outside. That's not a comfortable feeling, especially for the soon-to-graduate, newly-married, male. There's something about not knowing what's going to happen next, that terrifies men. And for those of you men that disagree, I call you a liar. God designed in us a drive to sustain, a drive to comfort, a drive to protect, a drive to provide. And when we don't know how that's going to work out, it's scary.
But recently I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out the door that God has for me. And I think I found the direction. That doesn't mean I found the door. It simply means, "set sail in a...uh...a general...that way! direction."
We have our heading. It's not a "compass that doesn't point north", by which I find guidance. It's the whisper behind the door. I can finally hear it. I know it's out there. I'm catching up. Somewhere down the hall there is the door God is waiting for me to open. It's frustrating that along the way that I'll find door after door to be locked. But now that I know there is a door out there, it only strengthens my resolve. I just need to listen carefully. I'll find it.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Weeding.
When I was young, relatively speaking, there was a fairly large field at the end of my street. (at this point in the post my mom is saying, "ooooohhh" with a small smile). Anyways, this field was affectionately referred to as the "corn field". Hours and hours of play happened in this field. Between crops, we'd go hit dirt clots with baseball bats. The explosion of dust and dirt was amazing. In Spring, flowers and and weeds would come up and cover the entire field. We'd carve trails through it to get to the park or school. Our bike adventures through it ended in our chains wrapped with vines. One time the farmer even chased us with his tractor.
The crops, mostly corn and squash, were good, I guess. We didn't have much need for it though, other than the occasional trip to the "store" to grab a squash to put in our dinner. It was the weeds that looked cool and were fun to hide or ride in. But the plain dirt field that sometimes would yeild it's treasures of random couches, dirt fights, and the occasional game involving fire (sorry mom), was where most of the fun was. As the years went by the farmer seemed to disappear and the crops went by the wayside. The cycle of dirt and weeds followed for a few years. There was one season in particular that the weeds went rampant. They grew taller than me - not a huge feat at the time - and it was then that they were no longer fun. They were just menacing. We couldn't get through the field without coming out the other side looking like a war victim. Your clothes would tear, bugs and dirt got in your eyes, and the quick trip to Smith's for a sample of Golden Spoon just wasn't worth it anymore.
Weeds. Thicker than your arm, taller than a 10-year-old, infested with spiders; they were terrible. Yet at the top of each was this little yellow flower bloom. As you drove by you'd think, "wow that's kinda pretty." But in truth, they were disgusting. Completely useless. No crop yeild, no potential of play, no purpose whatsoever.
So was the little yellow flower on top worth the inconvenience of the weeds? To the outside observer, yes. But they only looked on from the outside. To the 10-year-old, surrounded by them, those weeds were awful. The spider bites, torn clothes, choked bike chains, and getting lost wasn't worth the pretty yellow flower.
Little and much has changed since then. Developers dug out the field and built houses. The field is no longer there. The weeds never really left though; they've just shifted through the years. How they manifest is different each season. And each one is topped with it's own unique mask of a pretty yellow flower.
The crops, mostly corn and squash, were good, I guess. We didn't have much need for it though, other than the occasional trip to the "store" to grab a squash to put in our dinner. It was the weeds that looked cool and were fun to hide or ride in. But the plain dirt field that sometimes would yeild it's treasures of random couches, dirt fights, and the occasional game involving fire (sorry mom), was where most of the fun was. As the years went by the farmer seemed to disappear and the crops went by the wayside. The cycle of dirt and weeds followed for a few years. There was one season in particular that the weeds went rampant. They grew taller than me - not a huge feat at the time - and it was then that they were no longer fun. They were just menacing. We couldn't get through the field without coming out the other side looking like a war victim. Your clothes would tear, bugs and dirt got in your eyes, and the quick trip to Smith's for a sample of Golden Spoon just wasn't worth it anymore.
Weeds. Thicker than your arm, taller than a 10-year-old, infested with spiders; they were terrible. Yet at the top of each was this little yellow flower bloom. As you drove by you'd think, "wow that's kinda pretty." But in truth, they were disgusting. Completely useless. No crop yeild, no potential of play, no purpose whatsoever.
So was the little yellow flower on top worth the inconvenience of the weeds? To the outside observer, yes. But they only looked on from the outside. To the 10-year-old, surrounded by them, those weeds were awful. The spider bites, torn clothes, choked bike chains, and getting lost wasn't worth the pretty yellow flower.
Little and much has changed since then. Developers dug out the field and built houses. The field is no longer there. The weeds never really left though; they've just shifted through the years. How they manifest is different each season. And each one is topped with it's own unique mask of a pretty yellow flower.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
45
It's been 45 days since I've last visited this place. And to be honest I don't really have the organization of mind to communicate one cohesive thought. So today I have a different plan. In no particular order, this is my life right now:
1) Thanksgiving was awesome. Spent time with family but I missed my Opa.
2) My psych of family class seemed like a waste of money.
3) I am truly blessed by my incredible wife. We've been married for 516 glorious days.
4) Brittney and I got a grown up tree this year that stood a grand total of 5 feet.
5) I got a fireplace DVD.
6) Finals took over my life this year in a way that was almost too much to bear.
7) One of the days during finals week consisted of 11 hours in the library writing a paper.
8) I much rather prefer the rocking type chairs than the 4-legged chairs.
9) I haven't opened my Bible on my own in a few weeks.
10) My friend turned 23 and we celebrated in style.
11) I got a two week break off of school.
12) During that break I actually got to read a book that wasn't assigned.
13) I used to have asthma in high school. I found out yesterday that it's back.
14) Brittney and I gave banana bread to Pedro and I've been thinking about a lot him lately.
15) I've given up coffee and alcohol for the month of January.
16) I'm struggling with the "life schedule" that I think God has in store for us.
17) I got to visit with my Mom, John, and Kayla just before New Year's.
18) Over the visit my wife turned 21.
19) I went out and got drinks with all 6 of my parents and my wife.
20) The weather has been weird lately. I hope it's cold for my birthday.
21) My left ear just started ringing.
22) The break ended just as suddenly and now I'm in a class called Christ and Contemporary Culture.
23) As of right now (a couple haven't posted) I am super proud of my grades from last semester.
24) Brittney and I are each taking an interterm class. Each day of class is equal to a week and a half in the regular semester.
25) I'm almost 23 and I'm scared of what is going to happen after I graduate.
26) Brittney and I didn't take a single picture this Christmas. Oops.
27) Brittney's computer is almost dead. I think we'll get her a netbooks soon.
28) Dad, Doe, and Oma are taking all the kids to Solvang for a weekend for our Christmas present. I'm super excited!
29) Brittney and I got to have breakfast together this week and lunch yesterday. It's been some awesome "dates".
30) I was offered more hours at work over the break so I'm trying to cram in as many as I can while still balancing getting my homework done and spending time with my wife.
31) Brittney has been an amazing encouragement to me the past few weeks.
32) Mom and John gave me a digital cable converter as an "early birthday present", and I got to enjoy the Rose Parade in the morning.
33) My priorities have shifted in the past few weeks. The clutter doesn't make or break my day.
34) My left ear stopped ringing.
35) Brittney and I found a used Nintendo64. Our late night nap has turned into an epic MarioKart race.
36) I'm finding a nice relief in sitting here typing.
37) It's the small times of family Wii bowling or Apples to Apples that created the best memories of the holidays for me.
38) I miss coffee. It's only been a few days.
39) The toes on my sandals are starting to wear through.
40) My goal is to continue to visit this chair once a week.
41) I've realized that I do appreciate Biola. I know I'm cynical most of the time but I am pretty blessed.
42) I've started to have a new fascination with WWII.
43) I'm not a huge football fan but I'm excited about playoffs. It's great times of sitting with my pops and enjoying some munchies.
44) The next few months will be full of job hunting. If you have a lead or an offer, please let me know.
45) The past few weeks have had some incredible sunsets. I've been thankful for the art show each evening by our amazing Creator.
This was a nice change. I missed this outlet.
1) Thanksgiving was awesome. Spent time with family but I missed my Opa.
2) My psych of family class seemed like a waste of money.
3) I am truly blessed by my incredible wife. We've been married for 516 glorious days.
4) Brittney and I got a grown up tree this year that stood a grand total of 5 feet.
5) I got a fireplace DVD.
6) Finals took over my life this year in a way that was almost too much to bear.
7) One of the days during finals week consisted of 11 hours in the library writing a paper.
8) I much rather prefer the rocking type chairs than the 4-legged chairs.
9) I haven't opened my Bible on my own in a few weeks.
10) My friend turned 23 and we celebrated in style.
11) I got a two week break off of school.
12) During that break I actually got to read a book that wasn't assigned.
13) I used to have asthma in high school. I found out yesterday that it's back.
14) Brittney and I gave banana bread to Pedro and I've been thinking about a lot him lately.
15) I've given up coffee and alcohol for the month of January.
16) I'm struggling with the "life schedule" that I think God has in store for us.
17) I got to visit with my Mom, John, and Kayla just before New Year's.
18) Over the visit my wife turned 21.
19) I went out and got drinks with all 6 of my parents and my wife.
20) The weather has been weird lately. I hope it's cold for my birthday.
21) My left ear just started ringing.
22) The break ended just as suddenly and now I'm in a class called Christ and Contemporary Culture.
23) As of right now (a couple haven't posted) I am super proud of my grades from last semester.
24) Brittney and I are each taking an interterm class. Each day of class is equal to a week and a half in the regular semester.
25) I'm almost 23 and I'm scared of what is going to happen after I graduate.
26) Brittney and I didn't take a single picture this Christmas. Oops.
27) Brittney's computer is almost dead. I think we'll get her a netbooks soon.
28) Dad, Doe, and Oma are taking all the kids to Solvang for a weekend for our Christmas present. I'm super excited!
29) Brittney and I got to have breakfast together this week and lunch yesterday. It's been some awesome "dates".
30) I was offered more hours at work over the break so I'm trying to cram in as many as I can while still balancing getting my homework done and spending time with my wife.
31) Brittney has been an amazing encouragement to me the past few weeks.
32) Mom and John gave me a digital cable converter as an "early birthday present", and I got to enjoy the Rose Parade in the morning.
33) My priorities have shifted in the past few weeks. The clutter doesn't make or break my day.
34) My left ear stopped ringing.
35) Brittney and I found a used Nintendo64. Our late night nap has turned into an epic MarioKart race.
36) I'm finding a nice relief in sitting here typing.
37) It's the small times of family Wii bowling or Apples to Apples that created the best memories of the holidays for me.
38) I miss coffee. It's only been a few days.
39) The toes on my sandals are starting to wear through.
40) My goal is to continue to visit this chair once a week.
41) I've realized that I do appreciate Biola. I know I'm cynical most of the time but I am pretty blessed.
42) I've started to have a new fascination with WWII.
43) I'm not a huge football fan but I'm excited about playoffs. It's great times of sitting with my pops and enjoying some munchies.
44) The next few months will be full of job hunting. If you have a lead or an offer, please let me know.
45) The past few weeks have had some incredible sunsets. I've been thankful for the art show each evening by our amazing Creator.
This was a nice change. I missed this outlet.
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