every time.

Every time I get comfortable with my life, something usually comes along to disturb me...and ends up ruining my plans, messing up my week, etc..yet, in the end, it seems to always lift me up out of a rut. I've wondered for some time now why we, as people, generate to the schedule, the comfortable, the normalcy of daily living that can turn into habitual living with little thinking. Whenever I seem to encounter a week or even a day that just goes totally out of what I thought could've happened, I'm so thankful, and wonder why this doesn't happen to me more often. It's frustrating b/c you experience one of these days every few weeks...those days where you feel like you accomplished a great deal, and it was meaningful in the process...like you really really really enjoyed yourself or something. Then, three weeks go by and nothing. It's a quick blur and you wonder how one day can mean the world to you, and then while at the same time, three weeks can go by and you feel next to nothing has happened in your life for you to dub as meaningful. I guess it's a matter of seeing and choosing what you want to see and don't want to see...but I don't know if that's it. Maybe we couldn't handle having those near-perfect days when everything in you wants to go outside and sit still for an hour and just shut up. Maybe we'd go nuts emotionally and spiritually if we were constantly experiencing these highs that kept sending us upwards. I'd like to think maybe it wouldn't be good, but then, three weeks later, I have one of those days and think to myself, "No...this is good--this is helpful--this would be okay to feel like this every day and it wouldn't get old...ever!" Maybe I'm wrong, but right now, the past 24 hours has been pretty amazing and enjoyable and enriching and everything that every day should be. I think.

Bonhoeffer documentary.

I just finished watching the last bit of "BONHOEFFER", a really fascinating documentary I rented last night and was quite surprised at how good it was. It's low budget, but some of the interviews and footage of Hitler and other footage pertaining to the Third Reich was so interesting. I was afraid the documentary was going to just be a gospel-film-altar-call, but it wasn't. It told the story of Bonhoeffer in such a compelling manner, I can't imagine people of any or no faith not having some type of positive response towards it. Bonhoeffer was a man the church needs to look to more today...especially for how he said Christians need to stand by victims in society even if the victims aren't Christian or part of the church. It's interesting to think of the many areas we Christians are failing in when thinking about America today and who the victims of society or the church really are. Maybe being a feminist is actually what Christians are supposed to do (I mean 'feminist' in the way that Betty Friedan, and other early feminist writers thought of it as--equal rights all around--pushing toward an egalitarian society). Maybe we Christians need to forget the bad label that comes with standing by victims (Bonhoeffer accused by many pastors as heretical--since he was standing up for Jews...and therefore, was anti-God b/c he was standing up for Jews). I don't know. Just a thought. Either way though, you should rent this movie the next time you're out and feeling like the Blockbuster shelves are a little scarce for good movies---this one is educational AND it's good. Give it a try. Happy thursday. au revoir.

annoying.

Okay, two things i discovered tonight: one, a huge pet peeve of mine is watching a movie with a group of people (a movie that i love and feel very strongly towards) and watch as they talk sporadically all the way through it about useless subjects. Also, if they get up and leave for 10 min. at a time and say, "I won't miss much, will i?" I don't understand this at all. Okay, second thing...I can't stand sitting by and listening to other Christians who condemn and talk ill/bad of another Christian who seems to be struggling with alcohol. OR, worse...they're not struggling, they're drinking and not getting drunk, but they're a Christian and since they are one, they shouldn't do it. I sat and listened tonight as some friends of mine and their family bashed this brother in Christ and basically spoke of how his fate was going to end up in "eternal lostness" if he didn't straighten up. Part of me wanted to speak up, but the other part of me won out and I said nothing. It wasn't going to be worth it....or at least, that's what I kept telling myself. I wanted to say, "Stop this! It's all or nothing with you people and that's just a scary way to live as Christians in some areas..." but I didn't of course. I'm a wimp most of the time when it comes to stuff like this. So next time you watch a movie with me that I love, please just watch and don't get up and leave and just sit there in silence. Even if you hate it...do it for me...it will help me out a lot. Tonight, I almost lost it. Perhaps I need some work in this area. Oh well. Good night.

new blog template?

Okay, I changed the look of my blog again. Sorry. I was trying to find the perfect fit for me but couldn't so I thought this was better than the previous one. I'm not sure on that yet. Oh well. Let me know. (Oh, and the comments for all the preview ones are gone...I don't know how but they are--- Any expert advice?)

neutral.

Yesterday, I was driving back from Taylor (for the last official time as a student) and as usual, I started to speed as soon as I got on I-69. I really need to stop this...even though before, it's never bothered me that much. My only thought is "how fast can I go without pulling over" and as I thought this yesterday, I thought what a horrible philosophy this is when it's carried over into other areas of my life. It's kind of like your friend asking you not to do something, and then you waiting until they walk out the room to do it. I guess it's related to one's character, (which for me, it feels like it's one of the lousiest parts about me) but I hate thinking that this is just another character flaw of mine. I want to have a stronger character but it seems like after experiencing a month or two or three of smooth character-sailing, I fall hard and the "strong streak" is history. I guess this goes along with why I'm so bad at confrontation...I'm afraid of bringing the good and the bad together, and would rather have people think of me as good than trying to tell them why my heart is so against them. I wonder what it would look like if people started to confess their thoughts toward others all the time. Would it really be good or would it just be emotionally draining for people all day long. I confront someone and for 2 months, I probably won't confront someone again. I let things build up quietly and wait until things get so uncomfortably bad that there's no way to live normally without saying something. This is not good, I realize, but it's what I do. I'm not proud of it. I'd like to be the kind of person who always calls things out as soon as they come along and turn bad inside of me, and immediatly point them out to others without getting too angry or too personal. But most of the time, I don't. Maybe I overanalyze too much. I don't know. Sometimes I feel like it's impossible to overanalyze though....like how Brennan Manning says you can never overestimate the value or worth of a human being---it's impossible. People fear encouraging others frequently b/c they don't want them to think too highly of themselves, when in reality, that's their problem if they do. I need to go unpack though. I don't think these thoughts are going anywhere anytime soon so I'll stop for now and come back another time.

au revoir Taylor.

August of 2000 was a weird month. I remember riding with my parents in the minivan down I-69 to Taylor, sitting in the middle of the first of two bench seats. I looked on ahead and the road went forever. My fear crept over my head and later found a comfortable spot down on my lap, where I began to second guess my choice to come to Taylor. What in the world am I doing? Why am I leaving everything that means something to me to come to this cornfield town in the middle of nowhere? I love the city...or at least then, I thought I really did. It was cool to love the city when you're a post-senior just out of high school, but later on, you ask yourself why and you begin to wonder if the things you really think of as cool are even cool at all. So anyway, I'm riding along in the van and second guessing the whole college findigalog (no Shorb, it's not a word---don't worry, you still have a bigger vocabulary than me. It just sounded like the word to fit). My first trip up to the Penthouse (the fourth floor of my dorm where I was to live for the next 4 years) was surreal like it is everyone, except for me, I was greeted by a roommate with a blonde mohawk who acted like we had been friends since kindergarten. David Hoeflinger. I thought I wouldn't make it a week. Later, in December, I realized he was my best friend at Taylor and when I found out he wouldn't return second semester due to financial reasons, I got mad at God and crossed my arms and stood in the corner for a few days. I was ticked. He was one of the only people I really connected with...considering we lived on a floor that seemed to be conceiving and giving birth to all-star athletes in the study lounges. I didn't fit in with most people b/c I didn't really want to play intermurals and so therefore, I sat in my room for hours at a time waiting to see if anyone would stop by and say hello. A few people did, but not many. I'm grateful for people like Trent who seemed to have no bick about loving you or not, even if you didn't play sports and support the floor, he was one of those people you look up to b/c he respects you, despite the age difference. Not many people seem to be good at this so when you find one person who is, it's great. Anyway, freshman year and the point (kind of) to the whole story. When I was living in freshman year, I hated it a lot of it. People were not as spiritual as I thought they should be and so many people seemed to be letting me down. I was expecting friends I would stand by and for in weddings and for the most part, I wasn't seeing any people like this. I wanted freshman year to end with a passion although I think I masked it like it went fine.

Now, looking back, I loved this time. I loved it b/c I was uncomfortable and was left with myself to deal with when all I wanted was a few friends. I loved having the free time to give potential friends and just enjoying one another's presence. I loved this year, despite the memories that come with it. When I look at the individual ones, I wonder why I liked it so much...but when I lump them all into one category (like freshman year) I loved it. This brings me to now, and the feeling I'm feeling now. Like I felt the last night at 5:00 a.m. in L.A. last spring, I know I'm going to miss Taylor and the people that make it up. I know even though I'm annoyed at a few people right now and frustrated with how my last week here has gone, I'll still probably look back 20 years from now and love thinking about every minute of it. I've been praying lately (or trying to whenever I remember to) that God would bring me a few people in L.A. to surround me and love me and really encourage me in these next 2 years. Part of me is terrified, like I was in August of 2000, at where Fuller will lead me. But so much of me is elated and bits and pieces of me feel like I have enough trust inside of me to go nuts out in L.A. I anticipate God changing me. It's funny, but it hasn't really been an option in my head. I'm just assuming that he'll be faithful even though I rarely am and that he'll be merciful even when I don't want to look up and be honest. It's terrifying, but I love it for some reason.

Well, in 6 hours I will graduate and walk away with a piece of paper worth $100,000 that says I know something. Thank you everyone for contributing to this...you were expensive but worth every penny of it. I mean that even though it sounds sarcastic. Night.

rain, rain, rain.

Rain depresses me sometimes. I don't know why, but whenever it rains, I feel like crawling into bed and not talking to anyone. My friend Angie is different. Rain makes her bright smile even bigger and cooler, as she seems to convey this "i wish i was 4-years-old out playing in the pouring rain" face. There's this awkward moment I always feel when it rains...the one that if I'm walking outside and it begins to rain, I want to do everything in my power to avoid it. I walk faster or maybe even run to class but why? It's water--not frogs! But yet, I still feel like if my mission is to not get wet I get very angry if I end up getting wet. But then, if I change my attitude and decide that I don't care if I get drenched, standing out in the rain seems almost therapeutic. The first small group of the year last fall was held outside in the pouring rain and it was incredible. The noise was bursting down from the sky with thousands of drops filling up our hooded sweatshirts as Yoder talked about God in his life. I suppose I like rain when it's experienced in this type of setting. But normally, especially in the mid-afternoon...I find myself being disappointed whenever it starts to rain. The sound of it is cool, the flooding appearance is great...but it just does weird things to my mood.

I'm listening to the Johnny Cash cover of "Desperado" right now and it's great---perfect to hear considering what I'm thinking/feeling right now. I took a break from editing the Shakespeare video I'm doing for Shakespeare class after the power went off and scared me into thinking I might have lost everything. But I didn't. Thank God. Anyways, I should probably get back to it. Hope everybody's Tuesday is a little brighter and more uppity than it is here in Upland, Indiana. Oh yeah, and did I mention I never have to take another french class again? Don't get me wrong..I love the language, I just can't stand taking any more of it in the classroom. If I learn it in the future it will be from living in Paris, not from listening to an American try and teach it to me. Ugh. I admire foreign language teachers...I could never do what they do. Au revoir le francais...Je regrette, mais je suis beaucoup "relieved." :)

4th grade and Mrs. Rexford.

This one memory from my last day of fourth grade class came to me just now when I was thinking about "last days" and "last classes" of Taylor that will begin tomorrow (and oddly enough, ending tomorrow as well).

My friend Emiline and I were scared to move up to the fifth grade. We didn't want to have any of the teachers on the horizon--we wanted Mrs. Rexford again, and that was that. She played guitar and made up songs and lyrics and taught them to us and she made us love who we were--in song and in class. Like our own secret little club, she made us feel like we were on the "in's" in school. Like our class was special and unique. Like we belonged.

The last day of 4th grade came and as all the other students filed out at the ring of the 2:30 bell (or whatever it really was then) Emiline and I remained in our seats, refusing to budge. We locked our feet around the two front legs of the chair and held the top of our desks so tight our 9-year-old veins began to bulge up to the surface. Mrs. Rexford looked at us and we looked at her and nothing was said for a moment. Then, my best friend Emiline cried out, "Fail us!" and I quickly caught on and joined in. I remember us chanting and laughing, partly serious, partly jokingly I suppose and I remember seeing Mrs. Rexford's face. She began to cry, but not hard. It was light and soft and hesitant---like she wasn't sure she understood why tears were coming out or something. I remember looking up at her and feeling this weird, similar sadness in my own heart. Was life going to get any better than this? I felt like I had learned so much (in 4th grade--yes--I still recall so much from this class and can't believe that we were only in 4th grade when I think of the things she taught us). She made us love music and made us all sing even if we couldn't. Even when we couldn't hit the notes, she seemed to carry us through by making music with us. There weren't any more beautiful moments than our dissonance-sounding class belting out at 8:50 in the morning "My Country 'tis of thee..." or "A smile, a smile...", a song she taught us.

Slowly, the room sort of filled with emotion and tonight, this memory came to me again...in a weird and confusing way. I guess it's because of getting ready to leave people here (at college) and friends that (some of them) I know I will never see or never talk to again. They will die before I die or I will die before they die and that is that. All of it seems so meaningless.

That's life, sure, but that doesn't make it easy. I wish I could talk to Mrs. Rexford again today and tell her how much her class really meant. So many people undermine the importance of teachers...much less elementary school teachers and to be honest, I think these people who do this must not have had a teacher like Mrs. Rexford. I had her and a handful of others like her, so maybe that's why I'm such a big advocate. Maybe that's why I'll be a teacher someday. Obviously, I didn't realize how much she had impacted me..and today, I'm sure I still can't grasp it. But part of me has tasted it and I feel like for now, that's good enough. I need more memories like these in my life to get me through times like this. Leaving and going, good-bye-ing when everything in me just doesn't want to say good-bye.

dogville day.

I saw this movie called "Dogville" today with Shorb and Chalupa and it was easily one of the oddest movies I've seen in a long time (and that's saying a lot coming from me). It was how this woman named "Grace" came to a small, sick town...who was spiritually and emotionally dead. At first, they couldn't receive "Grace," and then, once they did, they cherished and loved every moment of living in "Grace." (Can you tell, there's something going on underneath here? I think the director was using it as a metaphor or something) Then, the towns people slowly realize what grace is like, and start to abuse it. They take advantage of grace, until it becomes a personal obsession-exposure kick. Once they've reached the ultimate low, no one in the town can see how low they've sunk and how far they've fallen, yet, there's grace, there waiting to be accepted and received still. Near the end (I'm thinking most people won't and possibly shouldn't see this movie---it's more like a 3 hour long sermon than an actual movie-movie), grace and judgment meet (metaphorically speaking) and the town is damned. They've had their chances and they abused it to death. After it was over, it got me thinking of how much we do this to Jesus and the gospel. We cheat on him (like Don Miller references we do in "Blue Like Jazz") in so many ways...whether it's with sin or exploring other religions to see which ones fit us the best or any other things that make us bat our eyes in the other direction...away from Jesus' love and grace and forgiveness. The character "Grace" in the film was so close to a Christ figure, it was scary. In one scene, she's being raped by someone she knows well b/c they think they own her and can just take advantage of her. She allows it (as Jesus does usually) but is hurt by it. She weeps. She's torn with the love she has for this people in the town of Dogville (interesting name--possibly referring to the state of the people and how they act more like dogs in the end than human beings) and sees how their abuse of her love and grace is tearing them apart on the inside. It's such a poignant film (I'm not sure if that's the right word--but it fits now) because it has so much in it to take in, pull apart and dissect. Many scenes hit me hard and I immediately could relate to some similar experience in my own life. A time where I was raping the name of Jesus by continuing to sin or refusing to receive his love and compassion. It was a heavy afternoon to say the least. I'll miss Castleton Arts after I leave Taylor, but I know L.A. will have plenty of other independent movie theaters to satisfy my soul. :) Big day tomorrow attempting to edit this video project for class so I must get some sleep. Night all.

Sorrow.

"I have seen the burden God has laid on men.

He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;

yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end." -Ecclesiastes 3:10-11

There's nothing more sweet and scary and lovely and grace-fulfilling than coming to God via others...completely disgusted with one's self and feeling the sweet whisper of God saying, "I forgive you and I delight in you, and I love you," rather than "You should be sorry---what's the matter with you?" Thank God for people who seriously pursue Jesus...and are bold enough to show it to me. I'll never forget this Friday night. I needed it more than anything.

bye, bye Echo.

Tonight was the last ECHO issue I will ever write for while a Taylor student. One of the many bittersweet endings in the escalating finale of my Taylor career. Perhaps that sounds too extravagent...oh well. I'm tired. Maybe I'll publish my farewell article on here even though some of the thoughts in it were actually taken from an earlier blog entry. We'll see. Night y'all. Happy Friday. I love you ECHO, but glad you're done.

grace and not turning to God.

I came across these two quotes and thought they went well together (in an odd way). One seems to emphasize mercy/grace/God's goodness...while the other hits me over the head with the pride I so often have.

"It is hardly complimentary to God that we should choose Him as an alternative to Hell: yet even this He accepts." -C.S. Lewis, "The Problem of Pain"

"Prostitutes are in no danger of finding their present life so satisfactory that they cannot turn to God: the proud, the avaricious, the self-righteous, are in that danger." -C.S. Lewis, "The Problem of Pain"

crying in L.A. and in Room 410

Every now and then, when I'm alone and quiet and still, I find myself in shame. Usually, it ends there, and I try to reverse my thoughts into thinking something else, but occasionally, I just start crying and feel helpless, hopeless, and useless...all at the same time. It usually only lasts for a few minutes but this morning, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep partially because I kept thinking of sin in me and was frustrated again that I've failed yet again to overcome it. Another day, another tally...it just gets a little sickening sometimes. In L.A., I remember some moments when I reached this point but there, I felt like there was hope afterwards...like my shameful tears weren't in vain or something. It sounds ridiculous, I realize that but it's how it comes with me. This morning, hope did not come afterward. I only felt sicker and more upset with myself, and honestly, just wanted to go back to sleep. It's annoying b/c people will ask me later (like they did today) what's wrong and I'll tell them nothing...even though we both know that's not true. But to be honest, I don't want to say I'm not doing good b/c I just don't want to talk about it to everyone under the sun. Does that make sense? I think there are some things (few probably) that need to be dealt with first between me and me, within me and me, so I know that God is "behind me" or something. It's weird. I think I feel like I have to make it right with Him or at least just totally spill everything in front of myself and my own thoughts before I can even attempt to verbalize them to others. I guess I just need some time to sort through things. This morning wasn't the best morning ever, but I think it was very much needed for me. I guess I shouldn't try to rush my thoughts and feelings out...perhaps they should sit and stand for a few days to let me see what's really there. Sorry for the complaining and venting and unloading...it's probably way more for me but I needed it nonetheless.

torture photos from Iraq

I just finished reading the TIME magazine article regarding the torture photos taken by U.S. soldiers in Iraq and I don't know what to think. I wonder how this could go on and how people could stand by and let stuff like this happen and why they are taking pictures of it in the first place (to show the other prisoners as a warning perhaps...but still). Then I think of the whole "under the pressure of war, people will do strange things," argument, and am even more confused. I guess the biggest thing that upsets me is the whole idea that we've been operating under the notion of being an anti-terrorism country and that the "enemy" is out there and that it is our duty to go out and crush them. What do you do with something like this? When the alleged "good side" does the same thing the "enemy's side" did? I just was browsing some articles online and saw one comment from a person that said, "I don't think the pics are real. They look fake. Besides, even if they were real, the stuff in them is not nearly as bad as what the Iraq soldiers have been doing for years." Are you kidding? Does that make what we did right? I guess it just validates the whole extreme-philosophy. We constantly live to try and attribute extreme right or wrong tags to people or things, in order to excuse our own actions. This person's comment is a classic example. My only thought left is, these are people with real families who are suffering and as it looks right now, American soldiers are just as guilty as the "enemy." Where does that leave our country and cause in the war then???

new jersey friends.

People are different. I realize this, yet, I'm constantly demanding the same response from others. I want them to have what I have...or better put, I want them to think the same thing I do. That sounds horrible, but it's true. If this did happen, life would be terribly boring and uneventful and just not very exciting at all. But yet, I still expect this out of others. I talked to my new jersey friend Tara tonight and she pointed me in the right direction on this regarding the blog entry I wrote about the person who thought thinking and experiencing movies was bad or just 'not for them.' She told me how for some people that just isn't there thing and that I shouldn't dismiss them as unimportant or not valuable just because of the opinion they hold. She's right. I'm wrong. I guess I was more upset with the insensitivity of this person and his lack of wanting to think deeper on things in life, but that's not an excuse for treating him with contempt and little grace. I've noticed I do that a lot lately---hold a few people in contempt and dispense grace to who I feel deserves it from me. If they're faithful to me or friendly to me and encouraging, they get grace. If they aren't, then they don't. That's bad theology, bad thinking and bad grace...I realize this. I'm trying to stop it but it's hard. Thanks Tara though for pointing me in the right direction. Sometimes I need a real good quick b/c yes, if you couldn't tell, I'm stubborn when people don't agree with me at first. ;) Good night.

fragmentation.

Warning: I have a feeling this is going to be a long one:)

I got up at 6:30 this morning despite my tired state and traveled to Jackson, Michigan with some other Taylorites to attend Westwinds Community church. My little brother Destry calls it "the art church" b/c they're supposedly very big on using art in their architecture and also in their services, etc. Anyway, the church was good and all...nothing spectacular, but one thing Ron Martoia (the pastor who's leaving the church in a few weeks actually) said stuck in my head. He talked about how we live fragmented lives and how even the very language we use insinuates that we, as Christians, live in a very divided world. It's "us vs. them." It's outreaches trying to bring people into the church and "get them on our side," so to speak. I realize it's unintentional sometimes, and many of our motives stem from things that are good (i.e., bringing people to Christ) BUT it just seems like we separate our "spiritual walk" all too often. Having devotions. Praying. Singing worship songs. These are, unconsciously maybe, viewed as better or more important. I don't know how to break free of this line of thinking. Every time I think I'm "out" of it, I sink back in and realize that I'm still knee deep and sinking.

It was made very obvious of this fragmentation again in small group tonight when we were discussing the book of Romans and picking out something from the entire book (we just spent the semester going through it) that stood out to us especially. Yodes picked out the classic Romans 3:23...but he didn't stop there. In fact, he mentioned how it was odd that while he knows that verse, he never seemed to understand and comprehend the magnitude of that passage and the context in which that verse springs out of.

"for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,"-Rom. 3:23

This is the verse every Christian raised in a Christian home can relate to...or at least, can recall easily. It's been drilled into our heads and I wonder why? Why has this phrase...concerning something very important (our human depravity) been pounded down our hearts so deeply? When I first think of it, it makes me cringe. It's not the whole idea. Paul did not say this and end his thought. This thought was part of a bigger thought and we've seem to have taken this thought and elevated it above the rest. "You are a sinner! You don't deserve God's mercy! You are bad, bad, bad!" Okay, yes...I agree, but that's not the whole thing. You are also good and have value and are not just a "nothing." Look at the entire passage that Paul writes in which this verse is pulled out of:

"But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus."-Romans 3:21-24

It's funny how that whole justification by grace through the redemption of Christ gets left out. I'm also reading a book right now for class which touches on the very same thing. It's called "Escape from Reason" and it's by Francis Schaeffer. In it he writes:

"Man is not only wonderful when he is "born again" as a Christian; he is also wonderful as God made him in His image. Man has value because of who he was originally before the Fall, who he is by his creation."....."We cannot deal with people like human beings, we cannot deal with them on the high level of true humanity, unless we really know their origin--who they are. God tells man who he is. God tells us that He created man in His image. So man is something wonderful....Man is not nothing. Modern man tends to think that he is nothing."-Francis Schaeffer

I love this idea. It's funny to hear many 'postmoder thinkers' in the Christian realm talk about holistic spiritual living. Many people think this is a new concept...but it's not. St. Francis of Assisi did it and Francis Schaeffer wrote about it (and did it i think) and yes, we should too. We need to stop segregating our lives into the sacred and secular. Yes. I've heard this so much before and I'm sure you have too---but why then, doesn't it stick. I'm convinced more and more that every Christian is on a process or "journey" and that inevitably, some things will just come later to some than others. After going through Romans this semester, I thought, "I'm so not where Paul is..and I don't really want to pretend to be." I think it's important to understand what he's saying but it seems foolish to act as if I can do all of what he says after one or two readings through it. I'm taking it piece by piece and this seems to be hard enough. When I read the Bible now, I feel like I can only read a little bit before it seems too overwelming to take in.

Angie and I were talking about this once. We were talking about how hard it is to grasp these huge concepts that are presented in scripture and that times, it seems way too difficult. We talked about how it's funny how we used to try and conquer the world and read it all, swallowing the words with no idea of how they really tasted going down. We talked about how horrible it is to try and expect people to change on a dime when they "convert" to Christianity, and how so much of it is like going through certain stages or experiences or places. You need to get through these times before you can try and grasp God's grace. I was talking to my dad about this last Fall and it was so cool what he had to say. He compared our Christian walk with being born naturally...and how cool it is that God gives us such a wonderful picture of what our spiritual walk with Him will look like when he shows how children are born and raised. He talked about how we (his kids) were all so different and all took different amounts of time to do certain things. I took longer to walk, my sister Brittany crawled way more than people thought she should and so on and so on. But the point he was making was, there seems to be something in us that must go through certain stages, specifically designed in our own individual nature, before we can take the next step into a deeper understanding of our faith. It makes a lot of sense to me. Too often, we try to force change on people (myself included) and have little tolerance for God requesting that we be patient. We want to have the same experience at the same time and expect that our friends and family should experience and understand God the same as we do (and the same time we do). Thank God this isn't how it is. I'm not advocating passive living, I'm just saying I need to be more patient with others and with myself and what God's teaching me. I'm not good at being patient. I need things to be happening or I feel like I'm dull and uninteresting and very boring. I don't like feeling that but I do...and it's ironic that it comes when I fail to be patient and hope for something better. Anyways, I'll stop now. I'm sorry for going off on this---it's just been building up since Thursday afternoon and I really needed to sort some of these things out. Sorry if it felt like a sermon. ;)

One more thing..:) Happy Mother's day mom. I love you more than you could ever know or understand or fathom or comprehend. Thank you for showing love more completely and "holisticly" than any other human being I've ever met.

run, neville, run.

Four months of semi-hardcore training (for me at least) has finally paid off. Well...sort of. I got up this morning after a restless 4 hours of sleep, bright and early at the brisk alarm-stroke of 5 a.m. What a wonderful morning. I got up, feeling (oddly) very much awake and began to prepare my legs for torture. I had developed shin splints this past week in my right leg and have been icing it every free moment since, so I was hoping and praying and ibuprofin-ing that my semi-injured righty would come through for me. Boy did he ever come through. Now, you're going to think I'm crazy, but after talking to many psycho runners (people who run and enjoy it...like say, they'll run 10 miles just for fun every few days) I was advised to massage my right leg to try and relieve some fluid that supposedly builds up in the leg or something. So I did that, but I think it got taken too far when this morning, in the lobby of Penthouse (the floor I live on in Morris) I began talking to my leg as if it were a 3-month-old baby. "Please....don't hurt! Just come on and let me run and I promise, you won't have to even walk up the stairs for the next few weeks!" Saying such things in your head is one thing. But when you're all alone and saying them audibly, you better start to wonder if you still have friends and if you realize you do, you start thinking you should go and tell them 'thank you' for being your friend, even though you're weird enough to talk to your injured right leg before a big race (as if you were coaching it or something). Wow, that sentence was long.

Anyway, that's what the day was like for me...by the grace of God I'm convinced, I did not get one side cramp, nor did I ever feel like I was gonna pass out, even though the cloudless sky and 80+ degree heat was convincing me on the 4th mile stretch that this might not end so pretty...for me. I actually was laughing at the end of the race...well, approaching the finish line and even had enough energy to throw my right arm up in the air to pose for a photographer taking pictures from this cat walk above the race road. Bad move on my part though. That's when God said, "Uh-uh-uh..you're pushing your luck" and my back right leg felt the worst shooting-like pain its ever felt, and I literally felt like the back of my right leg's calf had fallen off. I stumbled, losing my "stride" (the words really cool runners use--did I mention I now subscribe to "Runner's World?" :) and almost tripped over my own two legs about 100 feet from the finish line. It was bad, but I suppose it could've been a lot worse. I will never forget that feeling though..it was soooooo weird!!!!! (inside joke----sorry)

This week is going to not be so good for me, but I'll try to be more faithful then I have been the past few days. Happy mother's day. It's Sunday morning now technically, but really, it's still Saturday to me. Night.

extroverts and introverts...etc.

My good friend Liz Boltz who I respect a great deal said something to me once that came up in my thoughts while I sat in chapel this morning. "I think a lot of extroverts are at heart, just really frightened introverts really." (this is paraphrased...not verbatim---she said it so much cooler) Anyway, I was thinking about this again today and how much this past year I'm realizing that perhaps, while I am an extrovert, I'm not the best at communicating via the spoken word what's really going on inside of me. When I try to, I get stuck and it sounds like the most pathetic, ridiculous thing in the world...and on top of that, doesn't make sense. "What do you mean?" I often get asked, after trying to unload my thoughts and self to someone via words. Part of me wants to say, "Give me a pen....I'll just write it down and then you'll understand me so much more." But then I think that's just a way of running away from my extroverted self, so I slap my face in hopes of thinking a little more clearly. I'm trying to be better at saying meaningful things to people face to face, but it's hard (sidenote...."Iss' hauuud...you know, wit' de'conomy and all....yeaah...iss' haud!".....from the movie "SPELLBOUND"). Okay, but yeah, I'm just not so good at that. I'm constantly thinking of how much I appreciate people in my life and I want to tell them face to face but don't know how. It never seems to do them justice...meaning, I think so highly that my battered words come out more like a pat on the back then stellar compliment on their character.

Of course though, there are times when nothing but negatives stream into my head, like today in chapel. At one point, I felt this ultra-cynical-negative feeling come to me regarding what one of the senior students had just said and immediatly, I knew my friend next to me was probably thinking the same thing. So I did something a lot of us do...I magically transformed my own conviction-problem into my friend's...shaking my head and even nudging him saying, "Don't think that..." to which he responded, "I'm sorry I can't help it." Part of me was doing it to keep myself in check, but most other times, it's just transferring the blame I suppose.

I once read a book 2 years ago in which the author claimed that every time you were convicted for someone else (like for example, in church....you hear the message/sermon...glance at a friend or parent or loved one and immediately think, "I sure hope theyare listening to this....it's exactly what they need to hear and fix in their life...") it's usually a problem that's still not being dealt within yourself. That's annoying for me to hear and say and write b/c I rarely deal with the problem myself. I love talking to others about ways to try and fix problems, but rarely do I actually put some effort in and try and fix it. Oh well. That's enough unloading for now. I should probably be doing the homework I have. Night.

the ever-changing blog.

Sorry for the continuing change in appearance of my blog. I'm still trying to figure out how everything works. Bear with me. Much "I" love.

habitual sinner.

Last spring in L.A. there was a few verses that sort of carried me through the semester. i remember one of them (that not so much carried me through but more or less continued to make me question where I was at personally with God) from I John 3. It says:

"No one who lives in him [Christ] keeps on sinning. No one who continues to sin has either seen him or known him."

This verse scares me sometimes. I remember my dad talking to me one time a few years ago about people who sin and don't even see it as sin anymore. He said when this happens, something is seriously wrong with that person's walk with Christ and he'd question whether or not they even knew him. At first, I remember feeling a little angry at my dad's comment. "That doesn't make us lose our knowledge of Christ!" I thought. But now, I think I understand a little better what he meant. I wonder sometimes how much I know Christ. There are moments, that come in every now and then where this unexplainable hope comes to me and I feel a rush of peace. I felt like this last summer when I finished reading "blue like jazz" and at thanksgiving this past year when my siblings and I (and dad) were riding in the car on the way home from this horrible movie ('the haunted mansion'---okay, it wasn't horrible--just not that great) and we experienced this total-awe-like connectedness that I've rarely felt. I didn't question whether or not it was from God. I just assumed it. It seems like everyone has these times where they just know that they know that what has happened to them was so beyond their self, it had to be from God. Is this knowing God? Lately, there's a few things in my life I feel like I do...almost without even thinking and immediately, I think..'that was sin--why did I do that?' It's not a good feeling when this something seems to be woven into your response to others. It's in there deep and I feel like it won't come out.

I continue to sin...but I don't want to. Does this mean I've never seen him or known him? I don't know. It feels like a lot of times, everybody's dealing with at least one thing big in their life, and they don't tell anybody. Everybody (including myself) let it sit inside, and rot, until it's almost unrecognizable and it's gotten so used to being there (when we look at ourselves at least) that it seems impossible to throw it out. I read this book last summer that talked about sin and said the most severe kinds of sin (not levels like "this one's worse," but just more capable of ruining a person's heart) are ones found within the heart. The ones that never get you thrown out of college or suspended or reprimanded even. Jealousy. Envy. Lust. Pride. That feeling you get when someone you don't like succeeds and all you had wished for was them to not...those kind. I don't know why I feel this things inside and why they keep coming (sometimes against people I love and know well). Sorry for bringing all this up, but I'm listening to Gavin Friday (his instrumental work) and it's sort of helping to bring this all out. I guess it's good to get it out in the open. It just sucks that this is a blog and not a real conversation. I need to be better I getting this stuff out there and asking for forgiveness. A good friend ("Grace") recently sent me an email reminding me of this very thing and I haven't stopped thinking of it all week. I'm sure I'll write more on this later, so have a good Sunday night. And oh! Tara! I'm sorry we didn't get to talk tonight. I totally forgot. Forgive me? Night.

last night, i sat with Liz, Coaster and Joe in the lobby until 5 a.m. talking about everything under the sun. at first it was movies (another Penthouse guy was apart of this conversation in the beginning...around 1:30 a.m. but left later on once the conversation got really intense). he brought up the movie "lost in translation" and said it was the most boring movie ever and how bored it made him, etc....then continued on how "starsky and hutch" was such a funny, entertaining movie. so i got asked, bluntly, 'what did you like about this movie 'lost in translation'?' i went on to explain why it meant so much to me personally and how I felt like I connected a lot with the two characters....to which he proceeded to say something like, "I understand this movie might change people's lives and I can see people coming up with this deep meaning from it...but that's just boring. I like movies like 'starsky and hutch' because they're funny and stupid and b/c they aren't deep and don't have all these hidden meanings everywhere to change your life...(paraphrased of course, to save space)." Now, when I heard this, I honestly thought my ears were hallucinating. maybe i exaggerate a little too much but after he said this, i did everything in power to control my jaw from dropping and saying, "you're crazy!"

i get a little scared when people say things life, "i know this is life-changing for my friend here, but I just think it's way to serious or personal or intimate and 'life-changing.' i realize there's a time and a place to escape into movies and just have fun and enjoy them. but there's also a point where that (i believe) isn't enough. when we as christians (who, as joe pointed out last night, are able to interpret life and culture with a much richer bent b/c we know truth...b/c we know God) have no desire to find meaning in the world we live in, what makes us go on? why do we keep doing what we're doing? we desire to discover meaning to our lives b/c we want to live truth and find truth and experience truth. when we no longer care about truth (at all) then what kind of gospel are we preaching to others? i guess the biggest thing that frustrates me or I think on when i think of this is...'if we're this shallow in our approach to films (or art---and this goes for so many things in culture) then how shallow will we be in relating to people and seeing beyond what their surface has to offer?

i don't want to go on and on about christians (myself included) and where we go wrong (but I probably will b/c i'm really good at complaining when it comes to this), but listening to this fellow senior taylor student, i just felt very sad for our generation. i don't mind diverse opinions, but when our opinions are stripping away truth and meaning in our lives, something needs to be re-evaluated or something. just a thought.