Moving

Currently Reading Cash Values: Money And The Erosion Of Meaning In Today's Society (New College Lectures) By Craig M. Gay see related

Reduced to rubbish after less than a day of battle against Work.  Somewhere in the thick of end-of-the-semester assignments the number-crunching and audit-examining and SQL-programming and WACC-finding and Settlers-playing got the best of me to the point of replacing life.  In the midst of following Faithfulness, Schedule somehow took the lead and led astray. 

To a point of lifelessness, and therefore worthlessness.  Temporary excitement over outstanding auditing success, temporary frustration of incapableness to win a game of Settlers, and temporary disappointment in the lack of quality in my finance homework leave a depression that I know is also temporary.  Because my success stems from something far larger than completing puzzles and inserting numbers, and my true sorrow has its source in the issues truly worth grief.  Emotions that shift with shallowness seem worse than the absence of emotion altogether.  Full moon. 

Back to following Faithfulness.  Praises to the Faithful One for reminders of life in praying with Jake and encouragement from Lizz.  Overwhelming thankfulness for the never-ending blessings; burning desire to be a faithful son.  “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked” (Luke 12:48).  So if I can’t hack it for a day of schoolwork, what hope is there? 

Dreams: that human work would coincide with God’s work and that business would be abundant life.  We deserve the death of meaningless meetings and inconsequential committees and degrading disconnectedness and stressful schedules for making the highest goal return on investment.  The corporate world does plenty of service, but only for itself.  Redefine: the bottom-line is not God – God is God.  And He’s about reconciling different people and using them “to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke” (Isaiah 58:6).  Don’t limit that to true fasting – that’s true business.  That’s fulfilling work that can be done by accounting firms and restaurants and tire companies and theaters and colleges.  But it’s so difficult – there’s so much to do and so far to go.  And I’m stuck devoting all my energy to crunching petty numbers for fake companies and writing code for a useless database. 

May this young idealist choose to forever cry out for life and look for it only from the One who created it, sustains it, and provides it in abundance.  And may He choose to bring life to others who have been enslaved and oppressed and abused by business in this nation through him. 

Currently Listening Long Line of Leavers By Caedmon's Call see related

Thanksgiving: I challenge you to journey beyond the question, “For what are you thankful?” to face the challenge, “For what are you not thankful?”  And I certainly don’t mean to detract from the opportunity to appreciate life’s little blessings that are too often pushed behind the curtain of the demands of the Schedule, nor do I want to replace any thoughts about what it means to have a genuinely grateful attitude.  But the bottom line is that God calls us to not to give thanks in some, or many, or even most, but in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:18).  Especially in such an important area, succeeding in 99% of your life means failing in 100% of it – we’re all aware about how much power one or two things have to drag down and destroy. 

Not approaching the Provider with an attitude of gratefulness because of ignorance or apathy or unintentionality is tragic, but determinedly holding onto an attitude of unthankfulness is horrific.  Buried into each life are horrors that haunt, regrets that immediately trigger shocks of pain.  But embracing pity parties when such memories surface and “hopeless” situations arise is blatantly wrong.  Because in so doing, you pound an “Ignore” stamp on all of God’s promises, an “Irrelevant” stamp on your relationship with Him, and an “Idiot” stamp on your own forehead. 

Sure, you can easily let this slip by, not wanting to address such issues or initially refusing to believe that you’d ever embrace pain over something better, beyond.  Maybe I’m the only one who in cases perversely takes pleasure in pain and pitifulness, encouraging memories to haunt and regrets to fluster and frustrate.  But I doubt it. 

Paul’s letters to the Corinthians are certainly some of the most awkward books of the Bible.  Their relationship must have been pretty bizarre, because Paul is always clarifying and restating and referring to past actions and words.  But he doesn’t give up or give in.  At one point in 2 Corinthians after some such clarifying, he chooses to say, “Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it.  Though I did regret it – I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while – yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance.” 

For one as socially inept as I, awkward relationships with people I care about that I end up hurting are the worst, and I can’t imagine causing such pain through both challenging communication and misunderstandings.  The hauntingness would almost certainly permanently pull me away from any interactions with them.  But Paul is persistent and prays for eyes to see how God would bring about good in something such as that.  And he sees it, and claims it, and allows God to turn regrets of negatives into thanksgivings for positives. 

Just one simple example that I ran into this semester – it’s not the biggest deal, but don’t minimize it either: it’s Paul’s relationship with a large and in-charge Gentile church that he strove to love as God loved, even with regrets and pain and confusion.  Choose to pray for eyes to see God’s work and claim the good that He faithfully brought about from the most difficult and complicated situations.  “What God has not protected you from, He is perfecting you through.” 

Currently Listening Transparent By LaRue see related

The passion of the Poet is perfection: everlasting orchestration of a melody of expression to a beat of meaning until all pretenders fall away, all detractors are set aside, and only artful essence remains.  A Poem requires a lifetime of pondering to the point of paradigm busting, rephrasing until no words seem sufficient, and experiencing the emotion so fully that anyone open can feel what is expressed therein.  But this art has been reduced to a traveling circus in which only the most bizarre and attractive succeed, because people will come to see them, pay to see them.  And having no money makes all other skills and talents have similarly small value.  So poets write and sell appealing books of poetry that no one has time to read or education to appreciate; poets find a cultural niche in patriotism or world news in hopes to be hired by countries or corporations that support art while killing art.  While Poets are forced to sacrifice their art for life: money, acceptability, accomplishment.

I can only dream of writing like a Poet, but I have experienced what it must feel like to be a Poet.  Why write this Xanga entry?  There’s more than enough material for people to read, that people pay to read, that offer them things beyond what I ever could.  One of the last things this world needs is another webpage full of words that a handful will ever examine and no one will ever remember.  After over a decade of musicianship, I recently completed my first song.  There’s more than enough music for people to listen to, that people pay to listen to, that offer them more than anything I will ever write.  One of the last things this world needs is another collection of notes that few will ever hear and no one will ever remember. 

So why do I persist in writing?  What makes me ponder the possibilities for the next chord progression slated to become a piano piece by Ryan Heimann?  Faith, hope, love: necessary, but not intuitively apparent in this situation. 

I press on because through my inability God chooses to shine His ability; He is faithful in transforming my ugliness to beauty and my weakness to strength.  The Lord can use anything, from a sculpture by a genius to a conversation with a nobody to a text by an wavering college boy to faithfully mold the ones for whom He already gave His life. 

I press on because the counterculturalness gives me joy: I leave behind the desires to be effective and accomplish much and earn success, because I’m not the most talented or most intelligent or most attractive.  No deadlines or guidelines or queue lines exist here – only composing an expression of emotion that originates in the deepest part of my life and desires to serve and touch others in ways that anything outside art can’t. 

And, as I’ve most recently realized, I press on because God presses on.  I am His workmanship, and I can’t thank Him enough for not giving up on me, for not throwing in the towel in frustration at this hard clay that simply refuses to adopt that beautiful position that He had planned.  Among billions of more beautiful pieces of art, the Potter continues to choose to work on me.  Because in me He somehow still sees beauty. How can I then turn away from those ideas becoming expressions and emotions and encouragement before they mature into substance that can point others to Him; how can I refuse to acknowledge blessings to the point of refusing to allow God to use me and mine as He will?

So I conclude that the ideas He provides for me are more than worth considering.  And knowing.  And loving.  And perfecting.  Because as I’m faithful, I grow, and they grow alongside me.  And by His grace we can continually offer others more than we ever could before.  May the art in the form of poems and plays, songs and soliloquies, essays and expressions reveal God’s truth, unloose His passion, and transform His world.

Currently Listening Lift By Audio Adrenaline see related

“Hungry?  Why wait?  Grab a Snickers.”

I certainly am hungry.  I guess that makes sense, since I haven’t eaten in about fifteen hours.  But what I can’t make sense of, as I wimpily struggle through this short, twenty-four hour fast, is why we assume that there’s no reason to wait to eat a Snickers whenever we feel like it. 

Why wait?  Lots of reasons.  A candy bar would cost me about a buck, which is a buck more than I’d have to pay to eat at one of the restaurants on campus.  Buying and eating a candy bar might take about ten minutes, which is ten minutes more than not eating takes.  Then of course there’s the not-so-healthy calories added on to an already Americanly-unbalanced diet and a snack added on to the healthier three-meal day.  One dollar, ten minutes, and a little fat really isn’t that big of a deal – in many minds very much worth enjoying some chocolate and getting over some hunger.   

I’m going to avoid the sarcastic understatement I’m tempted to give and go for the short and sweet: stewardship is important.  And I hope that right now you’re not thinking about giving back to God a little piece of everything He’s given you.  Everything you have and think you own and consider yours is His – how are you investing it? How much of your money goes towards attempting to bring you happiness?  How much of your time is spent serving a a schedule full of activities that have no bearing on others' lives?  How much does your body suffer because of your unwillingness to pass by some snacks and pick up some garden tools?  Fasting is an opportunity to be challenged in all of these areas.

The past few years I’ve volunteered to help out at a local church’s “Thirty-Hour Famine,” done by youth groups across the country to raise awareness about world hunger and support for those in need.  To be frank, it’s darn challenging to get students to look past the “youth group activity” part to some of the meaning behind fasting.  That’s just a minor example of misunderstanding the practice of fasting even when doing it.  But today, through the feelings of hunger and rumbles of my stomach and apologies to people for not going out to eat with them, God’s used the lack of food to brightly flash a couple clear reminders:

One: A Godly life focuses on the important over the urgent.  It’s a tragedy that society accepts the fulfillment of whatever desire is foremost in a person’s mind at the moment (– if you don’t think this is a problem, look for some examples.  I think about at least one every week as an accounting student: the important goals of providing the community with necessary goods and services in a way that respects the workers and protects the environment are often bypassed because of the urgency of fulfilling end-of-period financial goals.)  The solution to such problems doesn’t involve increased judgment or “accountability” but simply refocusing to keep our role as stewards in mind.  A proper perspective about ourselves and a right respect for God leads to a wisdom and self-control that make us aware of the weightier issues and push us toward faithfully using the resources God’s entrusted to us for His glory.  May the Spirit continually have reign in us to make us sacrifice what may provide us comfort at this moment for the purpose of working towards the present and future fulfillment of those around us.

Two: At the deepest level, God is the only One who can satisfy.  Drinking when I’m thirsty only puts off my thirst; eating when I’m hungry only temporarily relieves my hunger; playing video games when I’m burnt out at best gives me a little more energy to devote to schoolwork.  But God provides living water; His is the bread that brings about abundant life; He offers us true rest.  In my callousness, I too often get caught up in the tangible world and make no effort to walk with the One whose fellowship fulfills.  Only after the extreme lack of spiritual sustenance causes a breakdown in parts of my everyday life do I return to depending on the Source of all that I need, both physical and spiritual. 

Consider this entry official encouragement for you to fast, not because you’re a poor college student who could use some extra money this week, not because you’ve gained a few extra pounds you’d like to get rid of, not because you want to be more spiritual, and not because God commanded you to.  I pray that you use it as an opportunity to draw closer to God, to be reminded by your hunger for food of your dependence on Him, to appeal to Him for guidance or help in a certain situation, to make you more aware of how much we give into our wants when there are more important things on which to focus. 

It’s only a means - the end is so far beyond: “Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for a man to humble himself? Is it only for bowing one's head like a reed and for lying on sackcloth and ashes? Is that what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD? Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?” (Isaiah 58:5-7)  Redemption is darn worthwhile work.  Praise the One who invites us to be a part of it.