SimpliCity by gilad

something new
I've finally finished the brunt of my tough papers and assignments. A few things are left before the end, but a brake from the mandate of assignments is long overdue, since I have been unceasingly working from the beginning of the semester. Granted I've had days of funtimes and moments of bliss, but there was always homework waiting for me at the back of my mind.

While these large assignments are done and sitting here waiting to be handed in I am beginning to prepare for something new. I'm indulging my obsession (like many people) in Jack Johnson's music (and some Ben Harper) and dance-cleaning the house while singing about banana pancakes. The much needed cleaning of my house and some more packing of my belongings.

I have too much stuff. I'm working on slowly packing and analyzing what I can get rid of as I prepare to move. I'm really excited, Juliana and I have found a cute little apartment at the top of a 3 story house and unless something unexpected comes up we are set on it. Most people progress, or at least aspire to, into having more space, a larger house, a bigger backyard. Me? I am moving into a place much... much, smaller. Although I am moving up from a trailer to an actual apartment; that's a step up in some people's minds. I am more than ok with this, I love the little place we are going to move into and having a smaller space will help me in the endless battle over consuming more things than I need. It gives me a chance to downsize and simplify.

This could be a whole new experience for me. I've never lived in a city. Believe it or not, Caronport is the largest town I've lived in yet. I think I'll be ok, Moose Jaw (when the roads aren't covered in ice) is a nice little town with a decent amount of good looking parks. We also have a porch off the backside of our apartment, large enough to fit a patio set out there. Anyhow I'll stop rambling, I did have a deeper post in the works, but I have yet to finish it.

by luke flaming

antsyily sitting still

have you ever watched a movie where they film time passing artistically? where a character will stay in one place, but the world will spin by them, or perhaps the camera will settle on a frame of scenery and the sun will flick by, or the grass and flowers will grow and die with rapid speed. I woke up this morning with the sun and sat here in this desk, and now I am watching the sun set from the same spot.
Soon this paper will be done, soon I will make it through the onslaught of work that I have... soon.

winter's edge II by aquapell

breath of relief

one of the most simple heartening things I think will never get old is coming outside at a time that for months dusk has already set in (such as coming out from work), and finding the sky still alight with yellow-white sunshine. No matter what seems to be going on, watching winter slowly break before your eyes holds the encouragement that sunnier days are coming.

the end is nigh by firedraik

adventures in wonderland

The winter wonderland that Saskatchewan is today that is. It's about time that I wrote a post that is of lighter matter... well, at least it is something outside of my head and the things of life that it turns on.

I, perhaps foolishly, decided to make a trip into town today. My back tire is leaking air, and leaking quickly enough. I thought I should get in and get the leak soon, since I'm planning on going on a trip later this weekend.
The weather didn't look pleasant, but I thought it couldn't be anything compared to what I drove through on Monday, and figured I'd be fine.

I wasn't 5 minutes out of Caronport when my car hit a patch of road that seemed to be a little slicker than the rest (which is humorous because the entire road was a sheet of ice). After fish tailing only slightly my car slid right off the road and ploughed straight through a stop sign that was on one the grid roads. My white car was stuck in the middle of a snowy feild of grass, and besides the fact that it was camoflauged it was also hidden behind the only hilly formation in all of Saskatchewan. I couldn't seem to rock my car out of the spot and no one was going to come rescue me. I ran out to check my car, the only damage is a slight dent on the top of my car where the stop sign came down on it. I can't say as much for the stop sign.

So I began to walk. You'll remember the roads were completely covered in ice. Everything was completely covered in ice. Out on those roads the word traction had certainly not been heard... The only thing those roads heard was the sound of the wind ripping its ways towards Manitoba. This was even more of a combatible force than the ice; it blew at me, trying to rip my scarf and coat away. It wasn't until after the icy cold had left its imprint throughout my entire being before someone dared to slow on the icepatch to pick me up; I think perhaps the wind was trying to teach me a lesson for being out on those roads.

The wondefully kind and friendly beautiful, incredibly appreciated lady that picked me up was also from Caronport and drove me back. Where I called the tow truck and ventured out to retrieve my Subulba. My friend Amy named the car sulbulba. She thought of it because she claims my car sounds like his pod racer. My apologies to anyone who isn't a geek and does not understand... go watch Star Wars: Episode One. Back to Sulbulba. Who with some skill was retrieved out of the ditch and none the worse for wear.

This would be a great time to close off and tell you that I'll laugh about it later. Oh I'll laugh later, and you'll be laughing too when I tell you that wasn't the last time I slid off the road. It was my record time for the day, maybe a minute and half later, I flew off the road again. The stop signs learned from their mistakes though and managed to stay out of my way.

Don't get too concerned. The tow truck wasn't far behind me. The lovely understanding fantasticly great gentlemen managed to get my car out again and told me a trick to driving my car out of a ditch, when it is not drastically stuck. This time I was much closer to a turn about in the road so I could manage to get to the other side of the highway to go home. I drove on the shoulder all the way home, with my four ways on, for there was snow, some semblance of traction to get me back to Caronport.

I have thought, what a waste of a perfectly good afternoon. It has occurred to me that I don't have much money to begin with, I can't really afford to be driving into ditches... but, in all honesty the thing that I should let have prevelance in my mind is a thankfulness that this didn't turn out worse. It was fairly fortunate for all that all this didn't cause a larger disaster. My only regret is that I didn't get to take the stop sign home as a souvenir. Maybe I'll find it when I go back to town in a day or two.

growing imagination by gilad

mirror image

I am often told, at least more often then I would like to hear, that I shouldn't care what other people think of me. It is said when someone can see that I concern myself with an opinion outside of my own, when I stop consider what I look like from the outside looking on. It is true, what has been said, that I should not care what others think. However, most often when this general and vague platitude is spoken again, what is not realized, or considered, is that I actually don't care what others think. I care about what someone thinks. Other people, they are vague and lacking concrete quality, who are other people? It is impossible to to actually care what other people think, because they, especially in modern North America, all think something different. Other people are the general populous who think to each his own, they think everyone is entitled to their own truth, and many of them would like to think that their truth is always right.

I care what someone thinks, someone who is my friend, someone who is a classmate or co-worker, who is a family member or wisened elder; someone who isn't a vague generality standing at a distance, judging life around them with a telescope, or perhaps the world weekly news. I care what someone thinks, not because they might not like me, but because they might be right, their qualms might be valid, might be true. Someone may have an appropriate concern or reflection of me.

Most often when we say we shouldn't care what people around us think, it is said because they might think critical, negetive, perhaps even judgemental. But if I truly didn't care what someone, what anyone, thinks of me, then I guess I would not care that people think that I'm encouraging, that I might do somthing well, something right or good, I would not care that someone, many ones, think I'm beautiful. And that would be a shame. But whether thinking well or scrutinizing faults, I'd rather it'd be someone than anyone. I'd rather listen to a person that spends time with me than other people who represent the idea that there might be objection or misunderstanding about who I am or what I've done.

When we gaze into a mirror we see there our features reflected back, we get a good idea of what we look like to others, we get a better idea of the bigger picture, a whole picture of what we look like. Much like a mirror, others words will reflect back to us a picture of ourselves; a picture of our character, of our personality, with their words we can scrutinize closer aspects, or get a larger picture. And also as when we look into a mirror we have a tendency to focus on the blemishes, on the things that we consider faults and flaws. We don't like seeing them, we don't like anyone else to see them, and try to hide them, fearing their existance might make us less of a person, or perhaps less likely to be appreciated or accepted.

There is a difficulty with my analogy perhaps, but everything has it downfalls, and every comparison has its shortcomings when compared to reality. Not all someone's, although they may see us in a clearer light than others, have a clear reflection of who we are, sometimes they cannot see the whole picture, the other aspects that bring things into perspective, or perhaps they just have a distorted view. Distorted by person preceptions, by a certain outlook on life, or even unfortunately by bitterness. Sometimes surveying the variety of opinions about ourselves can seem more like walking through a fun house at a carnival, but bent mirrors are less amusing outside of the circus.

I care what someone thinks. There is a possibility of that care being misused and causing disaster is quite possible; but most things in life are like that. In any case, appropriately kept in check, I believe it to be an admirable and vaulable asset. In a society that has in recent years percieved every person as their own island I think we are beginning to realize that often we cannot get an adequate idea of our features just by feeling for the distinctions ourselves (at least those of us without increased touch capacities due to loss of sight). And hopefully soon we will see that someone having a criticism of us will not make us less of a person, or less acceptable, just not perfect. Hopefully soon we will take in stride the things about us that are admirable, and also cherish the things that are critized. We may never perfect them this side of heaven, but perhaps it will keep us in a sober humility.

starfish foureyes

Sweet Cuppin' Cakes!
I got tagged for a questionairre, which is a more fun version of the mass ones that are forwarded quarterly...

Four jobs you've had in your life:
1) student manager in a cafeteria
2) Youth Intern for Youth For Christ
3) Hydroponics Lettuce Greenhouse worker
4) Various positions within the Archibald Library (circulation, shelving, book covering...)

Four movies you could watch over and over again (not to be confused with favourite movies):
1) Contact
2) While You Were Sleeping
3) The Princess Bride
4) Beauty and the Beast
(and a future movie which I think I'll be able to watch over and over again: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe)

Four TV shows you love(d) to watch (among many others):
1) X Files
2) Star Trek (excluding Deep Space Nine, sorry just can't stand it)
3) Scrubs
4) Corner Gas

Four places you've lived:
1) Glencoe, On (only until I was 3)
2) Kerwood, On
3) Lewis Apt, Caronport, Sk
4) Ipanema, Caronport, Sk (otherwise known as Spruce St.)


Four places you've been on vacation to:
1) New York City
2) Quebec
3) Florida
4) Frankenmuth

Four places you would rather be (or where you'll like to visit?):
1) The Carribean with Captain Jack Sparrow
2) Studying at Oxford? (under the tutilage of C.S. Lewis)
3) India would be cool
4) The Park in Moose Jaw, eating lunch and playing frisbee (the negetive weather and wind chill make it difficult)

Four of your favourite foods:
1) Marzipan, or other pastries made with almond paste
2) No Peak Chicken
3) Pita's
4) Fresh Baked Bread

Four websites you visit daily:
(well we'll say most frequented websites)
1)Deviant Art
2)Homestar
3)Foamy, at ill will press
4)Comedy Central, where I catch the best Daily Show clips


Four CDs you're digging right now:
(and once again modified, we'll expand it to artists)
1) Jack Johnson... yea I don't care that its girly cute music
2) Eric Clapton
3) Switchfoot
4) The Peter Pan Soundtrack (like the latest Peter Pan)

Four tagged:
1) Kara
2) Char
3) Crystal
4) Chan

the journey by ciril

cum-patire

The issue of choice has popped up here and there in my posts over the past months, and maybe have snubbed choice as being only a negative thing. I like choice; really who doesn't? I like choosing between the strawberry alberto shampoo, or the cherry almond kids shampoo, from the hundreds of other, lesser, hair products. I like choosing the Nintendo DS over PSP. I like being able to choose to eat pizza tonight and eat donairs tomorrow... I like choosing which guy I like, or the romantic line of thinking of choosing to love who I like, choosing to marry because of love. I like being able to choose becoming a better person. I like thinking that I have chosen to follow God. Of course thinking that I choose whatever I have, whatever I am, becomes shaky ground when life gets tough. When I choose all of this the person I have to blame the most for when things go wrong is me. We could try to blame someone else, but if we think about the fact that we wanted to choose, than the only person to blame for that choice is us right? Sure we didn't intend for our choices to lead us to certain places or for those unexpected surprises, but no one can plan for those, you can only plan for what you know of. Only choose from what you know of.

If you think I'm saying we shouldn't have choice so we don't have to blame ourselves. Relax. That's not what I'm saying. I'm just thinking maybe we've over-glorified choice. You know you really like something so you treat it like it's the shiznit, like there's nothing that could ever go wrong with it. Like that guy or girl you think is really amazing. And even though they are probably pretty great, you really don't pay attention to things about them that might drive you nuts; you just go on and on about all the things that are fantastic about them. I wonder if we've done that with choice, just thought about all the great things about it so we've ignored the down-sides, or even ignored the fact that sometimes we really don't have a choice (or maybe not as much choice as we think we do). Do we really get to choose the life that we have? Or do we get to choose to do the best (or the worst) with what we are handed?

Maybe that's why people so many debate continuously about fate and freedom, we have all this choice available, but we don't really know where our choices will take us. Whether we choose for ourselves or someone else chooses for us, whether we intended something to happen or if it just befell us, life is still a mystery. We plot and plan our lives away, fill our minds with all the great choices we have, and then what is left to live of it?

Maybe that's partially why God has worked so hard on my heart to let go of always having some big dream, a scheme, a set idea of where I'm headed, because life is going to come anyway. He's got a plan, and it's really good, so i should just wait and walk and be amazed. There's nothing wrong with dreams, I'm still a dreamer. There's nothing wrong with thinking about the future, but there's comes a point when one has to live with where they are and what they have. I don't have to spend all my time dreaming up a life, I already have one, I can spend my dreaming skills on other things (such as blog posts, ha).

cum-patire is a latin word I stumbled upon my readings last semester, it means to suffer with. The author was writing of how a group makes a choice together, or will help one of their own make a choice. Maybe we've got enough problems of our own to think about, and perhaps if we think about suffering with someone as primarily, or as only, as emotional we'll only wear ourselves out. But perhaps suffering isn't just emotion, perhaps we could lend our brains, lend our hands. Many of us do, many of choose us to. There's nothing wrong with choice, but maybe we need to let go of the liberty of choosing which kind of cola we prefer to lend our life to those who didn't choose what befell them. Then again maybe it's just me, maybe I just think about myself too much, and I do.

So, I may not choose to suffer with you, I may not choose to be your friend, I may not want to do certain things that I know I should, but I will none the less. If you don't like it, tough, I'm going to love you anyhow. You may say I've chosen to do what is good despite my emotions, you may say that I am only nit-picking on terminology, but it's a thought. We really like our choice, and we don't like to give that up.

grey vision by severin m. koller

when it fades to grey

"Men can go wrong with wine and women. Shall we then prohibit wine and abolish women?" Martin Luther

I really haven't been in a blogging mood, sorry 'bout that, maybe I've been rambling on too much in conversation so that I haven't got anything left to say here, maybe. Then again the amount of reading and assignments have kept me with my nose stuck in a book these past weeks. Since reading is the thing that has been keeping me most busy, I thought I'd share something I read, that actually came along just as I was thinking about the nature of balance.

These days there much propaganda about "living a balanced healthy life", which is good, but can become a point of obsession. Maybe from studying history, maybe from studying at Briercrest, or maybe just from reflection on the lives around me (or my life), more likely from all, I've seen many revolt to extremes, and many shaken from what they thought was a black and white understanding to questioning how they think about certain things.

It is well accepted that balance requires a little give from both sides, but it could also be that balance means rejecting extremities, I don't think balance necessarily signifies a balance of good and evil (acutally it is more like a balance between two possible evils), and don't think the middle ground is always in the middle... or the mean of two extremes as Aristotle would phrase it:

...let us consider this, that it is the nature of such things to be destroyed by defect and excess, as we see in the case of strength and of health...; both excessive and defective exercise destroys the strength, and similarily drink or food which is above or below a certain amount destroys the health, while that which is proportionate both produces and increases and preserves it. So too is it, then, in the case of temperance and ourage and the other excellences. For the man who flies from and fears everything and does not stand his ground against anything becomes a coward, and the man who fears nothing at all but goes to meet every danger becomes rash; and similarily the man who indulges in every pleasure and abstains from none becomes self-indulgent, while the man who shuns every pleasure, as boors do, becomes in a way insensible; temperance and courage, then, are destroyed by excess and defect, and preserved by the man.

...Excellence, then, is a state concerned with choice, lying in a mean relative to us, this being determined by reason and in the way in which the man of practical wisdom would determine it. Now it is a mean between two vices, that which depends on excess and that which depends on defect; and again it is a mean because the vices respectively fall short of or exceed what is right in both passions and actions, while excellence both finds and chooses that which is intermediate. Hence in respect of its substance and the account which states its essence is mean, with regard to what is best and right it is an extreme. ...

That moral excellence is a mean, then, and in what sense it is so, and that it is a mean between two vices, the one involving excess, the other deficiency, and that it is such because its characteris to aim at what is intermediate in passions and in actions, has been sufficiently stated. Hence it is no easy task to be good. For in everything it is no easy task to find the middle,... anyone can get angry--that is easy--or to give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right aim, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; that is why goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.

Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics

sing hallelujah by dmack

There is one exam left tomorrow morning and I will have another semester done. In a day and half I will be in Ontario, visiting my family, and enjoying a break from work and homework. All in all, the semester has ended well, I somehow found an adequate amount of time to hang out with friends and just slack off in general. I've been some great movies, watched some hilarious shows, but also have been reading some thought provoking books and have been chillaxing in coffee shops listening to friends bands and having great conversations. And although there are good things right at hand, there is even more good things coming.
Next semester holds some things I'm looking foward to, there are already plans of fun days ahead, such as a visit from my old roommate; and there is the added bonus of finally owning my own vehicle.
Another eventful semester has passed, I think I've more than made it through. God has been faithful, though it is through much more than the things I've mentioned above. They are things to be thankful for, and cherished, but God has been faithful regardless of those things.

my ending by splucy

the soap opera that is my life

I really don't think my life is all that interesting.
But I could be wrong.
Years ago it was noted that my life, or at least the circumstances around it, resembled a soap opera. So, in jest, I wrote one called port caron.
Since then, besides the interesting situations that seem to befall me, I've noted an amazing amount of people who tell me what they think my life is about, tell me what to think of things that have or are happening to me, and try to live vicariously through me. While I completely respect listening to others, to see life through their eyes and getting an outside opinion, sometimes their version of my life sounds only vaguely familiar.
I've mostly learned to laugh about it and joke around, people are going to talk whether or not I care, and there's always going to be someone who thinks they're helping you by trying to point in the direction that looks best to them. But every once in awhile, I wonder if there's something I'm doing or have done to incur this, or that maybe I take it too lightly, or maybe I let it affect me too much. In which case I don't think I'm smart enough to figure that mystery out. And if it's because of my personality, then there's not a whole lot I can do about that.
It doesn't worry me, so much as cause me to wonder, which is something people seem to get confused, but that's a post for a different day.

til the morning after by aquapell

spiritual lessons through this physical veneer

This is probably a theme that is becoming redundant for those of you who have been reading my posts over the past few months. I can imagine how some may begin to see me as too much of a mystic, always seeing something in the nonsense of life. In my defense I will say that there is much of life that doesn't make sense, that doesn't seem planned or purposeful, although good things can come of it, useful things can be learned from it. Our diverse society has brought together wide variety of thought and beliefs where many of us range from those heightened senses of the mystics to the leary logics of the cynics. In any case we should come to terms with the fact that life on this earth does hold suffering and misfortune, but be aware that things aren't always as they seem.
I don't think I'm being to cocky to say that I have been in the past a resillient person; been able to get back up when life has knocked me down. I may, as it seems to some, think things over too much, and it's true I like to give life a good mulling. God's been here to lead me on through whatever this world brings, but through these past months something struck deep down in me and I wondered many times at what's holding me back. God's always been there to direct my steps, and I couldn't understand why I felt like I was standing in limbo. Realization is a process, I'm sure we all know this, andI came to the conclusion early on that there was a few things I needed to realize. At the end of the summer I asked God a question, I made a request. I wanted to understand something and couldn't find an answer that sufficed. And He has been giving me His response. Sometimes the face value of what happens is all that exists, but have you ever faced a situation where it has become more about what lies beneath than the actual situation itself? We're physical beings, so it makes sense that one of the most peircing ways for God to get something across to us is through the medium we exist in. (although it is only one; I wonder what it would be like to experince supernatural messages like Julian of Norwich, who saw 16 visions while being deathly ill...)

shores of oblivion by gilad

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
...
If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.
...
If you are transparent and vulnerable people will call you superficial and you will get hurt.
Be transparent and vulnerable anyway.

I know not everyone needs to love me, I know not everyone will like me.It's a fact of life on this cursed terrain and I came to terms with that, was forced to comes to terms with that, long ago. Friends have joked, and I have sarcastically said a few times, that no one could possibly hate me, but I have been made more than aware of people who, in their hearts or in their actions towards me, words said about me, unwillingness to understand me, have hated me.
What I do have trouble wrapping my mind around are people who, not only present themselves as my friend but also present themselves as a friend and follower of Jesus, hate me. I saw it years ago, when a girl pretended to be chummy with me when really in her heart she hated me because of something that wasn't my fault, something that I had no control over. But she was never a close friend of mine, while it felt slightly unjustified that someone would judge me as she did, it wasn't as much of a slap in the face as the friend who has been hating me behind my back now.
Someone who I have been friends with for years, someone who consistantly uplifts me in compliments of a good heart and a wise mind, someone who I had no indication that they were displeased with me in the least, has been bitterly talking about me behind my back. On more than one occasion saying that I am superficial and shallow. Now I could say, or you could say, well that's life, it happens, you can't care what anyone else thinks, you just need to accept that life is full of raw deals and you need to just move on. But I'm not going to lie that I am incredibly disappointed and slightly hurt. And I know that someone can love sinner without loving the... perceived... sin, but to harbour as much bitterness towards me as he does and make no indication of it, seems ironic.
Well anyhow, thanks for listening... I mean reading...

faith variation by gilad

Where does that put Him?
picking up where we left off

He was a man of high stature. He was moral, righteous, well-respected. He had a comfortable home, and a comfortable place in society. He was the right kind of man to be seen with, the right kind of man to have dinner with. Living a successful life, an empty, successful life, for he had money, power and respect.

She was a prostitute. She was used, undeserving and disrespected. She did what she had to in order to get by. Sell what she had to offer in order to make it through another day. Living a despairing life, an empty, despairing life; for she had no love, no respect, and no hope.

He had heard of Jesus. A man who he had heard performed miracles. A man he heard had great insight. A man who he heard had come to visit and should be invited over to dinner to a respectable mans' home. A man who he knew would look good at a man of high stature's table.

She had also heard of Jesus. A man she heard had the power to heal and guide. A man she heard had come and would be eating at the well-respected man's table. A man who caused her to long for something better, caused her to follow after him, to weep mournfully at his feet, and to give all that she earned in year to buy perfume to pour onto his feet.

He scoffed. He was disgusted. He was disappointed. He thought, "If this man was the prophet I thought he was, he would have known what kind of woman this is who is falling all over him."

She submitted. She was broken. She was defended. Jesus spoke, "Simon, I have something to tell you."

He feigned interest. He gave a cordial smile. It hid the disdain he held for the woman who entered his home and the man who associated with her, who did not dismiss her, "Tell me, teacher."

Jesus asked him, "If two men were in debt to a banker--one owing five hundred silver pieces and the other fifty which neither of them could pay--and the banker canceled both debts, which of the two would be more grateful?"

He was confused. He wasn't sure why the prophet was asking him this; maybe to test his wisdom. He looked around to see if anyone else thought this odd, and then answered, "I suppose the one who was forgiven the most."

She sat at his feet. Jesus looked at her, "Do you see this woman? She rained tears on my feet when you would not provide water. She has not stopped kissing my feet when did not even give me a greeting. She has poured perfume on my feet when you did not provide any means of freshening myself up. She was forgiven many sins, and so is very grateful. But he who has been forgiven little has very little gratitude."

adapted from Luke 7:36-47

Is it as it seems? If we are stuck steeped in a cultural mindset of deservedness and self-sufficiency; if we are living in a wealthy society and have segregated ourselves in individualism to the point where the only thing that holds bonded to one another is our emotional connection. Or can we rightly choose to be there, the ultimate romantic ideal to choose or be chosen. What does that reflect on how we are connected to God? If we don't need each other, if we really think we can survive on our own, then really how much do we need God?

Maybe I am only preaching to the choir, to people who recognize their need for God. Who know that they need to be connected to God in more than emotions, more than choice. But for awhile now in North America even the choir has been singing their own solos. We've begun to notice it, we've begun to try to correct the things that are missing, we realize things aren't right. We talk about standing as a body, but still have our own personal lives away from the Church. I'm not claiming to have some indepth knowledge that no one has noticed before, maybe I'm just trying to comprehend it, work through it.

What has the Church done? We like others around us are seeing problems in this culture, and are making desperate attempts at fixing what we see going wrong. But I wonder if maybe we need to just put down our sheet music and think about the tune we've been singing. Maybe we need to admit that the Church like the rest of our culture got caught up in the idealism of individualism, admit that we've done enough to contribute to the problem.

Have you ever noticed that the times when we most full-heartedly turn to God, when we become most faithful in following Him, is after we've fallen the hardest on our asses? When we've come face to face with rotten circumstances, whether we've chosen them, or they've chosen us. I wonder if in our 'blessed' circumstances, in our height of technology and freedom, in our depth of wealth, if we have become more depraved than ever before. I wonder if we've got so much that we missing what we need. I wonder in who's opinion that the prostitutes sins were more than the pharisee, or maybe she could just see the depravity she was being saved from better than the man who thought he owed little to anyone, needed to be saved from little by anyone.

Where is God in the life of the Pharisee? Where is He in the life of the Prostitute? Where is He in the life of North America?

dancing on a sunny day by ciril

why are you my friend?
A brief interlude in the previous flow of thought

For most of this semester I've been slightly off kilter.
I know I've noted a lot about this,
and I know I've told you that I'm put back together.
I am, I really am,
but despite the fact that my heart has been put back into place
and the uncomfortable confusion is fading away,
I still have questions and thoughts,
and God still has a great deal that he wants to work out in me;
I'm still not quite myself because he is making me something more.

But as I go through this,
I experience a lot of things that I don't understand
why or how I'm letting it be a problem.

Don't understand why I'm frusterated, upset or jaded.
When I've been fine, been strong in the past.
But it is clear that things just aren't as they seem
and (maybe) what it is that I'm trying to work through
is deeper and bigger than the situation that I'm experiencing
that they exist to help me identify what needs to be worked out in me.

And while I work through this gammut of insanity,
my friends sit by and listen to me rant.
They watch me struggle
through confusion, through frusteration, even bitterness at points.
Watch me in a broken state, listening to me in my weakness;
Patiently loving me
as I try to break through these layers God wants to pull off of me.
Still being my friend, as I strangely attempt to walk through all of this.
Why are you my friend?

You listen,
you reply
you share with me your thoughts
things you've learned
the perspectives you see
and you pray for me.
You love me,
even though I'm foolish.
Love me
though I'm mistaken
and faulted
and most certainly a strange girl.

As we strive so hard to make sense of life
and all it's surprises that greet us,
as our brains do mental gymnasitics
to see logical reasons for what goes on around us,
it occurs to me that the most beautiful things of life
simply offend reason.
Although I've always known it
I'll forever know it again and over again.
I may not understand it
but I cherish it.
Thankyou.

individuality

Here we are

Some time ago I spent a long evening with a friend, we had dinner, watched some stand-up comedy, and then had a conversation that lasted about 3 hours. It had been quite a long time since I had spent that much time with one person. Quite often when I see people outside of work and school related interactions, it consists of short interludes; we watch a movie, go grocery shopping, or to town for some other reason, when we do go out for coffee it usually only lasts 45 min before we've run out of things to talk about or have things that we need to go and do. We're so busy doing, so many things on the go, and going on.

As we sat in my living room and talked of life and questions and ponderings my friend and I discussed how our lives have been guided. He, like I, had been questioning his acuracy in hearing God's voice and knowing His will, and wondering if what God had led us into in the past was really His will or our own desires. Both feeling wounded from some previous experiences, we had to wonder that there must be some better way of going about life than the patterns that our culture has set, we had to wonder if there's something we're doing wrong.

It has been well noticed about North American culture that we've become steeped in individuality, we've begun to feel the seperation and are working hard to try and fill the gap. The wealth that I spoke of earlier has not only freed us to chase whatever our heart desires, but has also freed us from each other. We no longer need one another to survive from day to day like we once did. We don't our husbands and wives to make ends meet, we don't need children to contribute to and carry on for us, we don't need our parents to teach us all that will get us through life. With that tie of dependence gone what is left to hold us together except what our wealthy society has afforded us; whatever our heart desires.

People have begun to realize that this isn't working, they've begun to realize that trying to hold together on emotions and desires is about as bonding as holding two objects together with sticky tac; it'll hold for awhile but is easily pulled apart, easily torn. We keep trying to manufacture alternatives to make up for that which has slipped into extinction since we've segregated our responsibilities and ourselves, but we can't manufacture the need, the dependence that once existed among us. So when our desires fade, or flippantly change, when our emotions bottom out on us, what's going to hold us together?

What can we possibly do to help our lonely and isolated culture? What if we've fixed enough things (such as fixing ourselves into this state) and we are only ever correcting problems only to have our solutions lead to other problems? Maybe deeper problems? And in a society that is very comfortable with the way things are what can be done? Should anything be done? Or should we just accept that something is always going to be wrong and continue on as we are?