Passion: An intense desire or enthusiasm for something

For too long now I’ve been missing something in my life… I haven’t been able to place a finger on exactly what has been missing. I’ve gone through the day to day motions – living as a machine, carrying out the motions, doing what is necessary to get the job done. Something was out of place, I just couldn’t place what that something was.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago as I was leaving a friends house – she had the word ‘Passion’ printed on her bulletin board. For some reason that word resonated with me.

Passion, as defined in English, has many meanings. It’s most commonly defined as “a strong and barely controllable emotion”. You can be passionate about collecting Hummel figurines or the music of The Beatles, you can share a passionate embrace with your spouse.

I believe my work should be my passion. I am blessed to work in the greatest institution ever created: the local church. Is the church, any church, perfect? Absolutely, positively not. To call any earthly institution – even one as great as the local church – perfect is an insult to the only perfection that this earth has ever seen: Jesus Christ. The church was begun by Christ but they are ran by man so they have the flaws held by everything man is involved in.

The local church is akin to a lobby: No one’s ultimate goal is to end up in the lobby… They enter the lobby to reach their ultimate destination. To find out how to get to there, to catch the elevator. The lobby is simply a passage to their final destination. The church is just another lobby – it exists to provide direction to people seeking the throne room of Christ – even if they’re not sure where or what, exactly, they’re looking for.

Why should I be passionate about my career? Because of the passion of Jesus. The word passion originates from the french (via latin) word “passio” – literally “suffering”. My passion should derive from the very same thing the word is derived from: the suffering of Christ that we might not receive our deserved reward: death and an eternity separated from God. Instead, because Christ was willing to suffer in our place we receive the reward reserved for Him: an eternity worshiping Father God in Heaven.

I should be passionate about introducing people to Christ, teaching them about Him and His passion. Planting the seeds that will be watered by the Holy Spirit. Perhaps seeing someone accept Christ as their Lord and Savior. I should be passionate because He is passion.

In a blog recently Scott Bourne (a photographer) challenged new photographers to stop waiting for that lens. To get out there and shoot with what you have – good photographs don’t come from the camera, they come from the eye and brain controlling that camera. I must confess I’ve been looking for that next lens. I’ve been lax and saying ‘maybe when I get X or Y’. I’ve already got the tools. I’ve got my experiences, the skills He has blessed me with. I’ve got the Passion of Jesus and the story of how His passion has affected me. Out of His passion should flow mine.

"When I heard this, I sat down and wept. I mourned for days, fasting and praying before the God-of-Heaven." Nehemiah 1:4, The Message

I've returned to my favorite spot between work and the house - again I've felt the need to blog and here is where I seem to do my best work.

After my last post my good friend Bo reached out to me and asked a simple question. 'Have you thought about fasting on this? Coincidentally (I don't believe in coincidence) I had been hearing that quiet voice in my mind telling me to fast for a long while. It is a voice I've been able to ignore before but with the weight of my friend (and the threat of his virtual backhand) I couldn't ignore it any longer. We agreed to a week long liquid only fast.

I was surprised how focused I became that week, how the trivial no longer mattered. I learned so much just by not eating and focusing that time on God- seeking his face and his will.

I learned several things. First that I don't have one stronghold in my life. I have several. Secondly I built those strongholds - they didn't magically appear in my life and they aren't going to magically disappear either.

The third, and the most powerful for me, is I need to stop asking God for what I want. I need to thank Him for what I have. So what - I'm lonely. I have parents who love me and aren't afraid to show their love. I have an earthly Dad who isn't afraid to hug his adult son. I have a Mom who calls me and shares the latest news with my niece and my sister. I have a sister and a niece who I love so much I have problems expressing it.

I'm surrounded by friends who are there for me. Friend who'll ask the simple question 'wanna fast?' and then they'll fast with me. I have friends who enjoy spending their time with me and aren't afraid to let me know when I'm being a jerk.

I can get out and enjoy His creation with a couple of plastic discs and 18 baskets to throw them at. I own a house for goodness sake. I am so blessed I now find it funny I have anything to complain about.

Now Nehemiah, he had something to complain about. His home city had been sacked and its wall and gate destroyed. His people were in distress. So what does he do? He mourns, fasts and prays.

How does he pray? He doesn't just whine and moan to God. He begins with praise - praising God for preserving His promise and loves His people. Then Nehemiah gets on his knees and confesses his sin... He apologizes for the sin of his people and begs God to forgive them.

After the praise and the confession, after, he reminds God of His promise and then, only then, does he go about setting things right with God by bringing his people back to Him. Nehemiah trusts in God to give him the strength and the wisdom to know how to restore his people to God's grace and favor.

After.

I had it backwards. First off I've got to praise His name. Praise the Most High. Then I've got to confess my sin - the lust and the pride, followed by reminding God of his word,

"Then the Lord God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone; I will make him a helper suitable for him.'" Genesis 2:18, NASB

After that, after, I can ask for His will to be done. I can trust in Him and do what I know I've got to do as well as what He tells me to do, no matter how impossible it might seem.

I need to rebuild the gates of my heart and the walls of my mind. Walls and a Gate that I cannot build without His help and His love. Then it's all up to God. Whatever happens I will remember the blessings that He has showered me with.

I won't forget that without Him I'd have nothing.

I have a confession to make. It is a confession that I'm not comfortable making so, odds are, it is one that God wants me to make. I struggle with depression and loneliness. This struggle occupies a disproportionate amount of my thought and brings so much worry and stress with it that it's often almost overwhelming.

What do I do about it? Try and stay busy or waste a large amount of time reading, surfing the internet or daydreaming about my future mate.

I see others in happy, unhappy or even dissolving relationships and I want what they have. Yes, I'd even settle for the dissolving relationship because something has to have been there to dissolve - sometime in the life of those two people was a point where they cared about each other.

I don't covet others wives: I covet the fact that the love the bridge-groom shows to his bride is reflected back to them by the very one they shine their love on. The cyclical nature of this is an astonishing display of power.

Anyone who has ever heard audio feedback or stood between two mirrors understands this power and its immensity.

For audio feedback a signal is introduced into the system, it gets reproduced by the speaker system and re-enters the system via the same microphone it was originally produced on and is doubled and the loop continues - growing in power with each iteration. It grows in power exponentially until it is the strongest signal in the system and overwhelms everything else.

Likewise with standing between two mirrors. One mirror results in one reflection of yourself. Add another and there are suddenly an infinite number of you. An infinite amount of love. Love like someone standing between two mirrors. Reflected and strengthened by each reflection.

So what do I do if its God's will that I remain a bachelor all my life? I don't do a thing. God is the source of the infinity of reflections. I'm just one of those reflections. God is God, I am as nothing in comparison to His glory and infinite wisdom. If it is His will I only hope He reveals why someday. If He chooses to keep me in the dark? I can do nothing to change that. Maybe it's my 'Thorn in my flesh'.

The biggest fear in all of this is this: That it isn't God's will that I am lonely and alone - that it's my fault. I fear that the hooks of my sin have allowed the enemy to whisper in my ear: "you're not good enough", "who in their right mind would want a fat slob like you?" "The only way you'll ever have anyone is through your imagination", "Its just a picture - how can that hurt you?"

Yes, it is just a picture. It is the scattered image reflected back from a mirror that's been shattered: never the entire image, but bits and pieces of that image trying desperately to gain the power found in the whole, but failing miserably.

Though it will never be the entire image the jagged edges can still cut, still cause injury. I'm bleeding a death caused by a thousand of these cuts. Even though I no longer look at those images they fill my dreams, call to me through the memory of my sin.

They display to me their piece of the whole and promise the rest. It cuts me while I try to reassemble the shattered mirror. Meanwhile all I hear is "you're not good enough - you'll never be good enough. Why don't you just sit down and forget? Who needs the entirety of the image?"

Though I listen desperately - that's all I hear - Satan's voice whispering his lies. I want the feedback that is His still, small voice to overwhelm that signal, to drown out the whispers. The feedback of His love on me, filling me, driving the darkness away. My heart fears that my cries are lost in that darkness that surrounds me. My mirror is shattered and only He can make it whole.

My head knows that He hears my cries. I know that He loves me and cares for me. Now if only my head could convince my heart.

I'm in Atlanta tonight doing some Christmas shopping and generally enjoying myself. The trip is primarily fueled by a desire to go the the Ikea store... Love that store...

So anyway, as we were driving to the hotel I thought how pretty this city is. The lights are up for Christmas and everything sparkles and glitters. Our hotel has a great view of downtown Atlanta and it shines. This city is beautiful at night. During the day it's a different thing. The pretty lights are hidden in the branches of sleeping leafless trees, the streets don't look as clean and you can see how dingy all the windows really are.

Sin is like a city at night. It is pretty, shiny and sparkly. It is attractive and looks like something you'd like to be involved in. However, when it's brought into the light it's revealed for what it is: dirty, dingy and nasty. The light reveals the true nature of sin and it's not a attractive as it is in the dark.

This is why we must, absolutely must, bring sin into the light. Because it looks good in the dark. It's only in the light that we can see sin as it is and do the work of getting rid of it. When we're no longer distracted by the sparkly and shiny parts we can do the work, with God's help, of disassembling the hold sin has taken on our lives.

Next up: Sleep, breakfast and then Ikea!

Tuesday Nov 3rd, 2009 – 1:53p

It's beautiful here... Strangely beautiful. There's the juxtaposition of the dunes over the beauty of pine , the bright blue of the sky, the greenish blue of Lake Michigan and the tan of the dunes. Yes, there are dunes here. Lots and lots and lots and lots of dunes. There's a heck of a lot of sand around these parts.

When I was packing in last night I thought a lot of the ground outside was stone – turns out it's sand. Dig down an inch or two and you hit sand, a find that's different for this Tennessee boy who expects to find red clay when he digs. Ain't much clay 'round these here parts.
I took a leisurely drive around today – went and checked out the sights. It's a beautiful area and is sparsely populated until you get about 1/4 mile from any significant body of water. Then it makes me think of what the mountainous areas around Gatlinburg will look like in 30 years – only less tacky on the whole. There are cabins scattered everywhere and I even saw one who's roof overhung the roof of the neighbors cabin. The biggest difference is the dirt roads (well, mostly hard-packed sand). They're everywhere. I learned today that a non-maintained road really means non-maintained. I barely squeezed the Suburban through one set of trees.

Today's reading: Mere Christianity and When the Lion Feeds (Wilbur Smith...)

Monday, November 2nd, 2009. 8:59P

, I have arrived at the little cabin in the big woods... I think it's nice – at least the interior is and what I can see of the exterior – since it's full dark now... Which made it interesting hooking up the propane to the stove – using a Coleman gas lantern while hooking up a propane connection makes one triple check that they've tightened the connection before one turns on the gas.

So far the only noises I hear, other than the wind blowing and the occasional jet is the ticking of a clock and the soft murmur of the water heater... It's a pretty nice cabin, small and cozy, done up in typical cabin attire – old couches and recliners, a nice fridge, a bunch of bunks in the lean-to and a comfy bed in the loft. The linoleum is a trip and there are random books scattered just about everywhere... I snagged a copy of Charolette's Web for tonights reading. Since I have let everyone know I'm here I just shut down my phone... It's gonna be a bit lonely here tonight but a very welcome reprieve from the generalized busyness of life.

On my drive up I managed to get through to the Book of Romans... It made for a pretty interesting drive, to say the least. I experienced my first Meijers store tonight – reminds me of a Super Target. Apparently it's a must visit up here in the big mitten. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow and seeing some sights and going to refill the almost empty propane tank.. The temperature outside is currently hovering around 34ish. It's 60 in here but I sleep like a log when it's cold. Good thing I brought a LOT of blankets.

One thing that struck me on the drive up was the parable of the prodigal son. I felt for the good son, the son who stayed and obeyed his father. I totally understand his being ticked that there was a party being thrown for his brother... I mean, he's stuck around, helped out around the place and hasn't ever gotten a party thrown for him. Then his bro happens back after wasting his entire inheritance on liquor, women and parties. Instead of getting what he deserves, he gets a party thrown. It's not fair. Then I thought about a section from Craig Groeschel's book: Confessions of a Pastor.

"God is just – no doubt about it – but He's not fair. And there is a difference. If God were fair I'd get what my sins deserve. I praise Him that He's not fair. Because He's just, when someone sins, someone must die. But in His mercy, Jesus paid the price for my sin by shedding His own, Innocent blood, giving up the life He fully deserved to keep. God is just, but He's not fair. If He were fair, I'd have to suffer... forever. Psalm 103:10,12 describes God's unfairness: “He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities... as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”"

Was it fair that the undependable son got his mere return celebrated? No, it wasn't fair at all. It's also not fair that I get to go to Heaven while Jesus had to go to the cross. I too, “praise Him that He's not fair.”6

I'm actively shivering now, so I think I'm gonna go grab the propane tank and bring 'er indoors... Then I believe I'll head to bed for the evening so I can get up uber-early in the AM. Peace be with you!

Matt

(It's definitely less lonely with the propane heater going... Not to mention warmer!)

I'm on vacation this week. It's my first vacation that's not a mission trip in about 6 years. I'm headed up to a cabin off Lake Michigan... Should prove to be interesting.

This isn't going to be a typical vacation. Earlier in the year I began to feel that I was too connected - too plugged in, on-line, tethered to my blackberry, my facebook, my twitter and my email. My life is constantly bombarded by white noise. The same noise you hear when you're between channels. The noise that drowns out that still, small voice you're supposed to be listening for.

So I decided to take a vacation. I'm headed to a good friends family cabin for three days. Three days during which my phone will be off. Off and in the car. My only technological vices will be my laptop and my Kindle. I've loaded the Kindle down with the likes of 'Mere Christianity' and 'Crazy Love'. I've also got quite a stack of books in the bag too...

So now for the rules.
1) No internet for three days. Period. I'll still be blogging but they won't get posted until Thursday. Yes, this means FB, email and everything.
2) No cellphone. Period. It'll be off and in the car.
3) No radio in the car on the way to the cabin. It's the NIV audio bible (New Testament) instead.
4) I'm gonna write at least one blog a day while I'm there.

So those are the rules. I've got a camera and a large memory card, a laptop, a bunch of books and nothing other than unplugging and listening on my agenda.

So far, the vacations going well. I'm at my sister's hanging with my cat, Ohm. He decided to give me some kitty love so we're cuddled on the couch where he's putting me to sleep with the sound of his purrs... Night all!

I'll be back on Thursday!

In a bit of change of pace, yet in keeping with the theme of my last post, I've decided to post something my sister wrote way back in high school.

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Memories

They've been here many times before, the old man and the little girl. She's two, maybe three, and is dressed in a frilly, lacy dress and has dainty hair ribbons in her pale blond hair. On her feet are tiny white boots, so grown up for such a little girl. The man grasps her tine hand in one of his large ones, with a touch so gentle, she looks up with eyes full of a child's love and trust. They talk together in her limited vocabulary. She's always learning. Sometimes she'll sing, or laugh or simply smile in delight, as she does when she sees a new flower, bird or tree.
They'll stop, as always, in an ice cream parlor. He'll place her on the counter and simply order her favorite, unable to resist her childish smile. They eat their ice cream and the continue on their way.
There is a certain bond between these two, a bond of love and trust. A bond of innocence and wisdom. An unnatural bond between grandfather and granddaughter.
They've been here many, many times before, he and that little girl that I used to be. They've walked continually through the gateways in my mind that we call memories. He's not with us now but yet... He still lives on. Without my memories, he would truly be gone.

- Alecia Clark (James at the time...)

I got an incredible gift tonight. Something I'm going to treasure. It's a simple gift, but it means a lot to me. They're nothing fancy but they're priceless to me. They are a pair of my grandpa's cuff links.

Dallas Hines was a great man from what I can remember. He was my Mom's dad and even so was very close to my Dad as well. (Whom he affectionately called 'meathead') He died from a heart attack when I was 6 so my memory is a bit fuzzy. I have a few distinct memories of him though - the first is sitting in his living room watching an episode of Star Trek, which is probably the reason I still enjoy the show today. Another is riding with him to the hospital to have my ankle x-rayed after I jumped off the merry-go-round at school. Of these 27+ year old memories my favorite is this: Riding with him in his brown ford pickup while going to the store to pick something up.

Grandpa dipped Skoal. Wintergreen Skoal. I love wintergreen and have since I was a kid. So on this day grandpa left me in the pickup with a bright shiny can of skoal sitting there while he ran into the hardware store. I, being 4 or 5 at the time, decided I was going to try that Skoal. It smelled so good when I opened the can - I can still remember it today. I remember getting a small pinch - the same way I'd watched Grandpa do it - and placed it into my mouth.

The immediate burning that immediately erupted on my lips and tongue when it touched them was excruciating. I remember spitting it out immediately and it splattering on the dash of the truck. I scraped as much of it off of my tongue as I could... At that point I noticed the black flecks peppering the dash of the truck.

Uh-oh.

So I wiped as much of it off as I could - if I recall correctly the floor of the truck was black rubber and surely he wouldn't notice... Did I mention I was 4 or 5? Ever seen a 4 or 5 year old clean a mess hastily? I don't remember how clean I got the dash but I do remember this: Grandpa never said a word and I still have zero desire to dip Skoal.
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A few years ago I began a semi-permanent remodeling job in the basement of the house I own. Grandpa built this house for my grandmother and his family. While I was tearing down sheet rock I found a bunch of pay stubs, a speeding ticket (35 in a 25mph school zone), a receipt for 4 tires and various other stuff. My favorite find was a collection of Skoal cans in the bathroom wall. They still smelled of Wintergreen and brought back a faint memory of burning pain when I pulled them out. Apparently Grandpa hadn't quite quit when he told Grandma he had...
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So fast forward to tonight. I'm wearing a new shirt that has french cuffs - the kind that require the use of cuff links. I'd borrowed a pair from some friends when Mom mentioned that she had a pair of Grandpa's and asked if I'd like them. I put them into my shirt and almost felt as close to him as I did the day he didn't say a thing about the explosive remains of my brief Skoal experiment.

Grandpa, I know you're watching over us and I'm looking forward to the day when we can hang out again. I hope I'm making you proud. I love you and I miss you.

----

When I get there don't let me try skoal again - no matter how great it smells.



MHJ

Life has been awesome...

Let me preface by saying those four words. I am so blessed I lack the words... But I'll try.

I'm writing this blog as a sort of journal entry. Something I can look back on when the stress mounts and the 'new job' smell has worn off. When I'm sick of the color of the office and my butt has gone to sleep in my now comfy chair once too often... So forgive me if I ramble. It's how my brain works.
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I started working for Faith Promise Church this week. I'm the new Video Director. Which means I'm using those 4 and 1/2 years of college to earn my living now. I'm still an electrician as long as I maintain my dues so there's always that to fall back on.

My last week out at the plant was a quiet week. I showed people how to do what I did and insisted that they actually do so. I was not going to be there to show them how the next week... During the evenings I cleaned out the new office (Previously referred to as 'Nolan's Old Office') got Drew hooked up with some High Def for the Super Bowl and painted. Sunday I added some can lights and a lovely remote control dimmer to edit by, because nothing is worse than trying to edit by the harsh glaring light of a humming florescent light. (Yes, they hum at a constant 60Hz.) Got the lights in, went home, slept and showed up excited for work the next day.

It was raining so I began the mound of paperwork expected of a new hire, moved a temporary desk into the office and started getting set up for some editing. Sometime during this the rain changed to snow. Like a thick, sitting on the ground, slushy, slick snow. So PC called in and declared it was a snow day... Fabulous first day. Snow day! (OK, so I stuck around and started working... I'm on the main drag and don't worry about getting stuck too much) After a full and productive day of work and some bonding with my new co-workers (Hereinafter named 'The Three Musketeers') I went home and chilled.

Today I sought out some early (though not as early as I used to have to go in) morning tea and a leisurely drive to the office. My one thought on the way in was that it was odd that no one was here yet... I neglected to check the radio for school closings. If Knox is closed, so are we. My second day - another snow day. So the Three stayed here today and got some work done... I've burned the 1's and 0's today watching my computer play with the DVCam deck. I've also got an errant tape deck packed and ready to ship for repair tomorrow and got my phone setup. So it's been another fabulous snow/work day...

Currently Reading: 'Mad Church Disease' by Anne Jackson, 'Tribes' by Seth Godin and 'The 360 Degree Leader' by John C. Maxwell.

Currently listening to: Music from Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper and Richie Valens. The Music died 50 years ago today.

Chocolate covered strawberries injected with buttercream icing... Any takers?

Twelve is now... 14! For me at least... for a few days

Oy... those tens I mentioned earlier are now twelves. Ouch. $$ but ouch.

I usually don't dabble in politics - my personal opinion being that politics should be an avocation, not a vocation. However, the disaster in Myanmar prompts me to ponder this... When does an established government loose their right to rule their populace? The ruling class in France lost their right when the populace rose up and threw the bums out - or under the guillotine, as the case may be.

The Junta, military government, of the Myanmar has demonstrated time and time again that they don't care about their people. They only care how the world perceives them. They don't seem to realize that their standing in the world would be assisted by actually giving a rip about their population.

Buddhist monks in Myanmar are trying to assist the populace by providing food and shelter. Yet the Junta seems to want the populace out of the temple - it goes against their own 'relief' stations. Tents, cooking supplies and water. Too bad the regular populace isn't allowed in.

"Meditiation cannot remove this disaster" Sitagu Sayadaw, a senior Buddhist Monk, said "Material support is very important now. Now in our country, spiritual and material support are unbalanced."

Why is the junta stopping those who are trying to help? They've clearly lost their right to rule their country.

Working seven days a week for ten hours a day is a great way to kill a month off... It seems like Mother's day was only a week ago yet it's the end of the month and very nearly Father's day. At least the money is good, very good. I loose track of what day it is though... That's occasionally annoying... Oh, well. I must make hay while the sun shines and the OT won't last forever.

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Today marks the end of my usage of air conditioning for the near future. I do this for two reasons really. This first is simply this; I'm curious how long I can take it. This is partially due to a mission trip I took a few years ago. One night we ate dinner with the local missionaries and discovered that while they had air conditioning they'd decided against using it. They had decided that there were better things they could use the money for than their comfort. Add to this the tropical climate they live in and I thought 'Wow, I guess I'm going to have to do mission work in Northern Europe or Asia ' cause I can't stand the heat.'

Shortly after the trip I was hired in at the former K-25 site. K-25 is a WWII era facility. It's contaminated with various radioactive substances, lead containing materials, asbestos coated everything, and 60 years of bird droppings. So the average worker inside the building is wearing scrubs with a full Tyvek coverall with hood, either a dust mask or a full face respirator, plus a belt containing a flashlight, radio and a Personal Air Monitor (PAM). Most of the time I chose to wear a full face respirator because I never felt that a dust mask was sufficient protection - no matter what OSHA regulations may say.

Many days I exited the building when I heard the sound on bubbling water - from the sweat pooled down around the air inlets on the respirator. Add to this the soaked scrubs and the very non-breathable Tyvek and you're in for a wonderfully hot time. From this I learned that I could work, albeit uncomfortably, in heat. Yes, I griped and complained with everyone else but I did successfully work there with no obviously ill effects - other than carrying multiple sets of clothes to change into at work.


Last year I decided to see how long I could make it without AC. Unfortunately I missed the hottest part of the year so I didn't feel that this was a true test... I installed a ceiling fan and bought two box fans and learned that a sheet was more than enough to sleep under. This year I'm going for the hottest part of the year. If it does get too hot I haven't dismissed the possibility of sleeping in the basement - where it usually runs 70 in the summers. I'm also aware that the electronics in the house might not be happy about it but they'll survive as I usually don't use them much.

I would have already started save for the new Heat Pump I ad installed. I wanted to see the difference in it's efficiency versus the 25 year old one it replaced... The bill runs about half what my old one did. I'm happy to report that it'll pay for itself within two years - longer than that save for the fact that I'm turning it off now...

My second reason is because the majority of the strain on the electrical grid is caused by cooling. I'm not usually the kind of guy who runs around screaming that the sky is falling but I do see the need for change and sacrifice - no matter how small - from everyone. Our planet has a finite amount of resources. God gave us this planet to do with as we will- I'm just certain he didn't intend for us to abuse it as we do so horridly. With the local drought our hydroelectric won't be producing as it usually does so we're forced to burn more coal... So I'm cutting the AC...

If you do happen to visit me during this time I will make certain the AC's on for you. Rest assured that the comfort of my guest means more to me than some wild experiment I've decided to try...

Macau #1

We've arrived safely in Macau - just got done with our first distribution - 1200 or so packets in 3 hours... It's pretty awesome.

The hotel is excellent - even by American standards (not that we're the gold standard or anything...) The city is beautiful, kinda reminds me of Blade Runner at night - except for the lack of blimps advertising moving to the off world colonies...


We've got two newbies with us on this trip. They've never been out of the country (save for Canada, which doesn't count, even if you do go to Quebec) Just pray they continue to have a great time and the food doesn't upset anyone's digestive system too bad.


thanks for your prayers and support - love you all!

M

--
"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

--The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis

When God closes a door in our lives why is it often so painful? Is the pain His reminder to us that we live in a fallen world? Is it His way of allowing the good times in our lives to appear to be so much better? Would being able to have everything at a whim be a bad thing?

Personally I think so. Joy without some memory of agony cannot be fully appreciated... Slipping on dry clothes feels so much better when you’ve just doffed cold, wet clothing. Ice water seems so much better when it’s hot and dry outside... and your mouth and nose are full of the dust of mowing.Someone’s praise for a project you’ve completed is better when you can still recall the annoyances of the things that went wrong....

So I’ve had a door closed tonight. It’s one I probably never should have opened in the first place but I did... I had some good times, almost lost a dear friend over it... It still hurts to discover the door closed.
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Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
’neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one deared
Disturb the sound of silence.

Fools said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence.
-----------------------
Round the world and home again
That’s the sailor’s way
Faster faster, faster faster

There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
There’s no knowing where we’re rowing
Or which way the river’s flowing

Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a-blowing

Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
Are the fires of Hell a-glowing
Is the grisly reaper mowing

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep ..ing
And they’re certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing
------------------------------
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and theyre all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens evry day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facin’ up when your whole world is black

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the settin’ sun
My love will laugh with me before the mornin’ comes

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm,...
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
-------------------------------
So I continue my journey through this life... as always...

Alone.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not Castaway alone, talking to Wilson, I’m surrounded by some of the best friends a man can have... Friends that’ll do anything for you, are fun to hang out with and I love dearly. But I’m still fundamentally

Alone.

I’m ok with that I believe. I might get jealous of what others have but I’ve no room to complain. I’m wealthier than 99% of the world (I own two cars and a house)for goodness sakes. I’ve got a job I enjoy, a church I’m fond of and an awesome family. What right do I have to want more?

None. None whatsoever.

Ahh, well... I do believe the wellbutrin is wearing off... better living through chemistry...

On other news I had a small piece of myself removed last Friday. My friend Ganglion cyst and I parted ways. I’ve now got a soon to be nifty scar running down my wrist... that’ll be fun to explain to people...


M

Smart Cat. Cold Room. Warm Flames.

Oh, the joys of a Kerosene heater... It's almost, yet not quite, as good as a fireplace. I've been keeping the house around 60 degrees - which is a perfect temperature to sleep, at least for me. However, sitting around the house it's a tad chilly... especially when one's blogging and/or watching Law and Order:SVU or Heroes.

I was very happy to see a long time friend at church today... She's living and working in Nashville so we don't' see each other often - not that we saw each other often before she moved - college and all that. So now I've added her as a friend on facebook - sweet :)

I just purchased Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz, haven't started it yet but I'm looking forward to it. I've also started lurking about theooze.com and begun reading some of the posts and articles there. It's interesting that
I've discovered a community of people who share the same thoughts. I highly recommend the book 'Out of The Ooze.' It's a collection of essays from the site and also a thought provoker.


While I'm thinking about it - a sleepy cat makes a great lap warmer.

One of the articles in 'Out of the Ooze' was entitled "10 Reasons Why Your Church Sucks" by John O'Keefe, I immediately liked it. Here's an excerpt....

“First” he said, “Your church is totally irrelevant to the community. You all talk a good game, but you do not see the dynamic of the community changing around you. Second, your church is filled with poor leaders and over bearing bullies who believe the best way to get anything done is to frighten people. All you have are people who will tell you what to do, and not lead us in doing it. Third, your church has no vision. You guys are just dead in the water. Fourth, your church is old. Your church is filled with old people who have no reason to move ahead. They have more life behind them then they do ahead of them. Fifth, your church is inbred. The people my age in your church are all related to the older people so change is impossible. People who are part of the outside don’t feel welcomed into the inside and voice an opinion; it’s filled with mama’s boys. Sixth, your church is more concerned about image them reality. You all seem to be more concerned with the condition with building then with building the condition of your people. The carpet looks great, because no food is allowed near it. The stain glass is wonderful; because you spend more money on cleaning and maintaining it then you do on mission work. Seventh, your church sees no need for change. You are all happy in your fortress and are not interested in opening your doors to the outside. Evangelism is a dead concept, and community is only those inside the building. Eighth, your church doesn’t share a relevant message for a relevant time. You’re so concerned with doctrine, you are not allowing me to explore the faith and question the unquestionable. Ninth, your church doesn’t care about me as a person, only as a checkbook. Over the time I was with the church I heard more sermons on how much I should be giving and not one on how much you were willing to give up. The only time I had anyone from your church visit me was when “pledge time” came around and you needed me to increase my giving. It got to the point were I felt no matter what I gave it would never be enough. Tenth, your church is all politics and infighting. Things only get done if you can muster enough political support form others to get your point to be heard, press your issues and lobby for approval. You have to wheel and deal to get anything done.”


Ouch...

Love you All!

M

This is from one of my favorite webcomics... http://www.sinfest.net Hmm... He's got it right...