I am here

I am here.

At the precipice of my thoughts
the top of my mind
or the bottom of my future

They precipitate around me
out of the air the form
first dust then pebbles
then boulders and mountains
falling with force on the un-firm ground

I am here.

The moment passes but the wreckage remains
I shovel the surface clean
packing it in cardboard boxes
padding it with packing peanuts
sealing it with clear tape
I place them in rows
on the edges of my mind
for the moment the cliff feels far
but the past moments linger

I am here.

The house may be swept clean
I may be strong for surviving
but even the strong man can be tied up
he can be overcome

the boxes begin to break
cardboard ins't thought tight
what seeps from the edges chases
follows pursues attacks
restrains me once again
back at the drop off

I am here.

At the precipice of my thoughts
the end of my mind
or a new beginning of my future

"... but in my opinion miracles will never confound a realist. It is not miracles that bring a realist to faith. A true realist, if he is not a believer, will always find in himself the strength and ability not to believe in miracles as well, and if a miracle stands before him as an irrefutable fact, he will sooner doubt his own senses than admit the fact. And even if he does admit it, he will admit it as a fact of nature that was previously unknown to him. In the realist, faith is not born from miracles, but miracles from faith. Once the realist comes to believe then, precisely because of his realism, he must also allow for miracles. The Apostle Thomas declared that he would not believe until he saw, and when he saw, he said: "my Lord and my God!" Was it the miracle that made him believe? Most likely not, but he believed first and foremost because he wished to believe, and maybe already fully believed in his secret heart even as he was saying: "I will not believe until I see."

- Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Finishing Well:

Finishing well means leaving behind:
     1. The Gospel
     2. The Kingdom of God
     3. Praise and Worship

To finish well means to leave things conducive for these things to grow and continue.

To finish well means leaving these things in the hearts of the people and places we have touched.

To finish well means to leave no strings untied.

To finish well means to love how Jesus loves.

Easter 2013

Matthew 16:24-28 :

     "Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what they have done.

“Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.""

Good news guys.

The tomb is still empty.

Jesus, the man, and Jesus our Lord was dead.

But now he’s not.

He suffered brutal asphyxiation, he was mocked and insulted by thousands, he cried tears of blood, he hung there naked, and seemingly helpless.

As he breathed his last painful breath, gasping for air, our sins, our fears, and our own death breathed their last too.

The tomb is still empty.

He is risen.

Our fears did not rise with him. They lie dead and condemned.

Jesus is alive. Now.

His reign has begun.

He has gone to the father for a little while, but he is coming back again!

We have not tasted death, but we have seen the Son of Man come into his kingdom.

So here it is. The first post in a long long time. I wanted to put a large chunk of an essay entitled "Belief" by Donald Miller from his book Blue Like Jazz, but I don't have time for that.

Instead, I encourage you to read it (or re-read it).

And now I leave you with 3 thoughts.

1. Mark Lasitter is a good roommate. He also loves my blog despite the fact that I don't have time to write any more.

2. I think that The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31) is an extremely unique parable. Not only does it reference real people directly (Abraham) while just about all the other parables only get as specific as "Son" or "Bridegroom" or "Widow" or "King", it also feels very unique in storytelling and content. I'm not sure what to think of it as I read and ponder over it again. I wonder if this is where a lot of the imagery for Heaven and Hell that feels ingrained in our society comes from. I would bet this definitely played a major role, along with the other pieces of scripture where there is discussion of fire and burning for sins. I would also bet that wasn't Jesus's main goal in the parable...

3. Sneak Peak:
http://kellyandboyer.ourwedding.com


Happy Wednesday.

Lord, Let me be your servant. Use me as you choose. Put me to doing; put me to suffering. Let me be employed for you or be put aside for you. Let me be full; let me be empty. Let me have all things; let me have nothing. With a willing spirit I freely surrender everything I am and everything I have to your plan for me. I make this covenant with you, O Christ, with all my heart and soul. You are my Savior and Redeemer.

-Unknown

It feels as if the dream has died, and the time has come for me to face the facts and realize the truth of the matter.

I no longer see a perfect American future; a perfect wife, a perfect marriage, perfect kids, a perfect job, in the perfect suburbs, perfectly happy.

No this dream has died.

The weight of the world is too much.

The giants before me have toppled over without a crash or a fight; simply a sigh as they breathe their last and disappear. With their towering figures gone, their shadows are gone too and the light illuminates so much that I never saw before; the slippery slope of temptation and the terrifying reality that none are immune.

And while the light has fought forth and revealed what was hidden in the black, the darkness has attacked too, taking those who were once well and casting them naked into the sea of sickness, pain, and death. Or leading them willingly to the well of youth and nudging them to dive in head first, only for them to realize the living water never was there. The dry rock bottom breaks both necks and reputations.

It seems that at the dusking of my day of innocence the black is winning, claiming what used to surround me, by force, by trickery, or by recruitment. As the night and reality settle, fear rises up. Will I be the next statue toppled? Will I dive willingly to my death into a dry well? Will I run towards an oasis in this desert only to realize that the mirage is not matter but a cavity? Simply a deep ravine calling me to jump into the cool blackness, to give in to the world and rest in its simple shadows.

But as my eyes grow dry and the kaleidoscope from tears dissolves into pure sight, a single light is seen in the moon-less sky; a single star reminiscent of one long ago.

A thin dirt path, well traveled but walked poorly, with many footprints on all sides and only one set steady in the middle, grows visible in the single-star light. Dust rises from it as I start to walk, yet I shake it from my sandals at the night around me as I begin to run. Is this where life truly begins? Where Joy and Suffering dance a beautiful waltz down this same path, a dance heavy with sorrow, yet filled with hope, building suspense to a climatic finale, only for them to keep their hands clasped together as they bow at the curtain call. Their fingers are interlocked. A keen eye will notice a wedding band on the left hand of each. I see the weight ahead. I have felt the weight behind. I see the dance ahead and know the end of the dance has come before my beginning, but its echoes beckon me on. I see many mirages and lies that look like life in the light of the night.

I run. East. On the dirt. Towards the sunrise.

The son who rose yesterday has yet to fail me. He shines. And he will shine. He will return in the morning. I will be there.

4/8/12 (Easter)

A poem:

My legs are broken, I cannot stand,

The battle is lost, I have no plan

The ship has sunk, my fears resound

The growing darkness shows no bounds.

Like a bird, hope’s flown away.

And I wonder if pain is here to stay

Death creeps in, as the golden leaves fall

And with trembling hands, I mourn it all

Yet you question still:

Can you wait just three more days?

I watched my father die that night

The twinkle in his eyes passed in the twilight

The warmth of life left his hands

And my heart questioned reprimand

My family continued its broken state

With anger and sadness we searched for our place

A lonely mother, a lost brother

What could I do to even begin to recover!

This all happened years ago,

Yet the weight continues to wound and grow

Who am I, if not a son?

And what of all things left undone?

Yet you question still:

Can you wait just three more days?

Alone I sat in a foreign land,

Actively seeking the living plan.

Yet no ears seemed to hear my cry,

And life seemed to be lived only to die.

Minute by minute I asked for a sign,

And prayed and hoped that one I would find.

To know that the Lord was real and true,

This was all I longed to do.

Like a criminal, my doubts encaged me

And my fears began to enslave me.

I was scared to return back home,

To try to live the full life I once had known

To see true friends and be in community,

What if they rejected me?

And some rejection I did meet,

Some of my dreams were met with defeat.

But distant, faint, and deep in the night

There was a shimmer of some future light

And for all this you once again asked me,

Can you wait just three more days?

He cried out, “why have you forsaken me?”

And “Please God, take this cup from me!”

Yet high on that cross, he lost his ground

And felt the wrath of God abound

The father’s gaze left the face of his son,

And all loving hope seemed foregone.

His body bore all mankind

And his heart yearned for a future time

Yet when his breath had breathed its last

It was then the walls all cracked

The curtain was torn, a bridge was built

Life was given for his blood was spilt.

Yet this son of man had a few days more,

To live behind a large stone door.

But when the stone was rolled away,

All the world seemed to hear him say,

“My peace I leave you, my peace I give,

I bring life different than the way you live,

Trouble may seem to break you down,

But rejoice for I have risen from the ground.”

And it is for all this I say,

That despite the pain I feel today,

That I believe you are who you say,

And I will wait just three more days.

I've begun studying Isaiah over break. Its one of those books of the bible that we hear in passing all the time, as so many prophecies come from it, but most people have never really read it. Well, I have actually really read it before, but I've never really studied it. So I figured, what the heck, let's do it.

Anyways, my current thoughts on Isaiah, both from prior readings and my current study, are this:
Isaiah is a book that centers around two things: Comfort and Punishment. I feel like Isaiah himself would call it blessings and woes or forgiveness and justice.

It seems that the theme of the book is summed up in Chapter 1: 18-20. (The commentary I bought says just verse 18, but there's far too much woe to be only the good...)

1: 18-20
"Come now, let us settle the matter," says the LORD.
"Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.
If you are willing and obedient,
you will eat the good things of the land;
but if you resist and rebel,
you will be devoured by the sword."
For the mouth of the LORD has spoken.

Just like all the other prophets, Isaiah says "obey the Lord's commands, like he told you too. Its best for you, really!" And follows it with, "and if you don't follow God's commands, you're going to get what you want, which isn't God and results in a lot of things you really don't want."

It's funny though, that all of this is manifested through Jesus, a constant figure in Isaiah (though shrouded in some mystery here...). He is the comforter, the forgiver, and the savior that the book continually addresses.

Yet he is also fully the lord who promises to take all of Judah and Jerusalem's food, water, leaders, and skills (chp 3:1-2) and the one who "lifts a banner for the distant nations" to come (to Israel/Judah) and "like young lions growl and seize their prey and carry it off with no one to rescue."

Dang.

But the passage I like most so far is this:

4:2-6
In that day the Branch of the Lord will be beautiful and glorious and the fruit of the land will be the pride and glory of the survivors in Israel. Those whoa are left in Zion, who remain in Jerusalem, will be called holy, all who are recorded among the living in Jerusalem.
The Lord will wash away the filth of the Women of Zion; he will cleanse the bloodstains from Jerusalem by a spirit of judgement and a spirt of fire.
Then  the Lord will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over all the glory will be a canopy.
It will be a shelter and shade form the head of the day, and a refuge and hiding place form the storm and rain."

After Israel goes through a whole bunch of rotten stuff, the dedicated few left in the kingdom will be cleansed and purified. And the glory of God will surround them, and there will be a canopy of protection around this select remnant. Pretty cool.

Its just a picture of the future kingdom that I haven't seen in a long time. A very physical one.

The question then becomes can this promise of a physical kingdom be generalized to the ingrafted branches of Israel? (Romans 11:11-24) (which includes this guy...)

I'm going to go with yes.

A final thought: It often seems that scripture and the christian life is so simple in principle, but so difficult in action.

Basically, I feel like the only thing I have been taught (by scripture, sermons, life, etc,) recently is obey God's commands and be blessed, abandon them and get what you want (which actually sucks.).

That doesn't make it easy.

Since its christmas time, I feel a christmas post is warranted:


First here is some Christmas songs that shouldn't be:


1. Santa Baby- 
I don't think whoring yourself out to santa is the best way to get what you want (a yacht, a ring, and a baby blue convertible...) Even if the lyrics never intentionally say "momma wants to get with Santy", it seems pretty dang implied.


2. Christmas Shoes: 
If you don't remember this, watch it here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MpkI7GW2V34
Never has there ever been a more depressing christmas song. I won't start on the musical side of it.


3. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus:
Here is thing, for those kids who believe in Santa Claus, to see Mommy kissing him would be, um, how do I say this, crushing? Not only is your mother having what seems to be a one night fling, if not an affair, its with some guy in a red jump suit. So who's your daddy now?
Yet, its played off like it is a jolly good thing to see Momma and Santa making out under the mistletoe. The lyrics say, 

"Oh, what a laugh it would have been, 

If Daddy had only seen

Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night!"

Daddy would have laughed that Mommy was being unfaithful with a large, perpetually old, mythical man!

Sure its implied that Santa Claus really is daddy because Santa isn't exactly real. But still, I'm going to call not cool. If our culture is going to lie to everyone under the age of 10, they should at least do it so that kids don't have to be crushed by divorce AND lies.

4. Last Christmas:
Originally written by George Michael for Wham! so you know its good.


5. What Can You Get a Wookie for Christmas:
Does Christmas even exist in Star Wars world? Wasn't it a long long time ago, in galaxy far far away, ya know, before Jesus?



6. Anything by Alvin and the Chipmunks, for obvious reasons.


One Christmas song that is so intentionally horrible it should continue being:



Yes please.


Now, for a short rant on a commercial series:
It's Game on Santa is the worst, worst possible way to sell your products.



Apparently people who give you nice stuff for free are hateable purely based on their physique. Or maybe Mommy is jealous after Santa went back home to Mrs. Claus after their brief one night make out session last christmas. She gave him her heart, yet he gave it away. Yet instead of giving it to someone else this Christmas as Good Ole George Michael would, she's taking it to him with a best buy beat down.


Oh and she hates her dog.


Like I said, bad commercial.

Some thoughts:

-When you have sinus surgery, you think everything is out to get you in the face. Doors are trying to open into your nose, every frisbee and football is coming straight at your face, and everybody has a secret urge to punch you that they are using all of their will power to resist. Someones going to crack soon.
When did I get paranoid?

-The number of seconds in the five second rule is directly proportional to how tasty the food your eating is. Brownies get a full minute, even if they are gooey and pick up a ton of dirt. 3 day old little caesar's pizza gets around 3 seconds. I expect fruitcake gets negative time.

-The internet can be wonderful. There is a lot of trash out there, but good ole prospectors can sometimes fine the gold. These can entertain you for hours:

• http://cheesepeople.tumblr.com/ and http://breadpeople.tumblr.com/ - Famous people with Cheese/Bread for heads. And Puns.
• http://kimjongillookingattthings.tumblr.com/ - North Korea FTW.
• http://moustair.tumblr.com/- What if the hair on your head was actually your mustache?
• http://therapboard.com/- Catch phrases
• http://textsfrombennett.tumblr.com/ - Obscene, but hilarious.
• http://selleckwaterfallsandwich.tumblr.com/- Tom Selleck, A Waterfall, and sandwich. Always.
• 56 Worst Analogies/Similes-  Came across this for like the third time ever this week. Still as good as it was back in high school.

- I really need to get cracking on finding a summer internship. And my homework.

-On a more serious note, I am seriously considering unbecoming a football fan. I love Clemson, and I love watching football, and I love when the tigers play well and win. I mean I can even enjoy it when they lose. But people care WAY to much. There's too much hate. And I'm not just saying between Clemson and Carolina fans. 

I sat in great seats for the Wake Forest game this season with my mom. Clemson wasn't looking their best, though they did scrape a W. Anyways, at one point in the third quarter the people beside me, who had been yelling negative things at the coaches ALL GAME LONG, got in an argument with a woman four rows in front of me. They seriously screamed at each other for 2 or 3 minutes. In order to break up the fight, a guy in between them got up and yelled at both of them. 

They were all Clemson fans. They all hated each other. 

After they finished screaming the girl I was sitting beside was murmuring to herself about how "these our seats and if they don't like how we yell then they should leave."

It was the worst football experience I have ever had. If I hadn't had a commitment right after the game (surprise birthday tailgate, what-up!) I would have gone home.

If you think that's an isolated experience, go scroll down your Facebook newsfeed. Everybody's hating on everybody about Clem/Carolina and its been a dang week.

Its an inflated piece of leather. It doesn't matter.

Nobody remembers who won the Clemson Carolina game in 1999.

Clemson won, and went 6-6. Carolina went defeated that season. I just looked it up, and I still don't care.

We will see how many games I go to next season, I feel like hiking, biking, fishing, kayaking, climbing, and resting might all be better alternatives. Football just doesn't seem worth it.

-Expect another blog post in a day or two.

Song of the day:
Your New Twin Sized Bed- Death Cab for Cutie

Foods that sound gross and are delicious:
Cheesecake
Cream cheese (and cream cheese icing)
Sour cream
Refried beans
Hot Dogs
Zucchini/Pumpkin Bread

Foods that sound gross and are (or at least probably are):
Pickled pigs feet
Spam
Baby food
Blood sausage
Carrot cake (y'all can fight me on this one, but i'm right.)

Foods that sound good but are gross:
Fruit cake

Why do they sell that?:
Chicken necks

Foods that sound gross and probably are delicious but I refuse to try:
Pork Rinds (Deep fried pork skin?...)



Unrelated to todays' ponderings on food:

I really have been sitting in Philippians 2:12-13. It reads,

"Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed- not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence- continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose."

Isn't it strange? Like this whole salvation, following Jesus thing? We are called to work out our salvation, with fear and trembling. We are supposed to try.  But at the same time that we are called to work it out, we are told that it is God who works. Some cognitive dissonance there, huh?

Its almost like we are supposed to try, but we should expect to not be able to do it on our own. Or maybe trying is learning to try in a way outside of our natural human design, one of humility and asking for help. Can you tell I still don't get it?

Don't be an Antinomian. Grace doesn't entitle you to a right to sin. (Though Jesus will take his glory there anyway.) (Romans 6:15ish)
Don't believe that works save you either. (pick your favorite reference)
But remember faith without works is dead. (James 2:26ish)

Jesus is redemptive, but he asks you to follow him.

Peace and Joy. And humility,
boyer.

Song of the day:
We will run- Gungor
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjNtlUqaCZo

Psalm 121 

 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
   where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
   the Maker of heaven and earth.

  He will not let your foot slip—
   he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
   will neither slumber nor sleep.

  The LORD watches over you—
   the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
   nor the moon by night.

  The LORD will keep you from all harm—
   he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going
   both now and forevermore.

From dust, to dust.
For dust you are to dust you will return.

People are hard, and you're one of them.

Recently I have found myself somehow in the midst of all kinds of junk. People losing friends and family to illness and accident, people hurting longtime friends, people making bad decisions, people struggling with depression, and most of all other people being clueless how to respond to all the stuff that is happening around them.

This world can be a weary place. That is something I have definitely been taught over my almost 21 years of life. It is something that I will never forget.

But the thing I always forget to remember is that I am one of those ignorant, difficult, hard, dust filled people too.

Yet Jesus lives, and for whatever reason, decides to take this sack of dust and sow some good seed on it. Suddenly, I the dust become the good soil.

Yet it is not I, but the living water that changes me from dust. And the dazzling son that sows the seed.

Thank goodness for redemption.

Let's hope and pray for determined spirits that run toward the kingdom, that we may not make the return to dust ever. The part that deserves to return to dust has returned. I'm clean. And I'm wet and muddy and in the sunshine.

Let the crop grow.

Genesis 3:19
Matthew 13:1-9,18-23 / Mark 4:1-8,13-20 / Luke 8:1-8,11-15
Titus 3:1-7



Peace and joy. And Hope. Lots of it.
boyer.

It's been a while since I have blogged. My life is crazy right now.

Here's a quick experience,

So last night, after a long day of friends, football, fun, and sweating (I'm sorry sweating doesn't start with an f) the roommates and I and a couple other friends were hanging out at our place. Eventually, I was like bump staying awake i have to be up at the crack of dawn, so I went to shower and then go to bed. After my shower, as I was laying in bed with the lights off, I felt the strong urging of the holy spirit to go and ask whoever was out in my living room still if we could pray. I didn't. I felt guilty, but I didn't.

This morning I woke up and didn't feel guilty or shameful anymore. I felt like I had chosen the wrong thing clearly, but in doing so I had just chosen against some blessing that was set aside for me in prayer that night. It is beautiful to see how Christ's mercies really are new every morning for me, the prodigal son (or maybe just the elder son who hangs around home but isn't really about his father's business). It was also really good to realize that the prayer/situation that I neglected out of fear (of what i dunno) I was being led to was in order to bless me and my roommates. Now I find myself wishing to obey not for obedience sake but for my sake.

How good is freedom. And how good is it to remember why we are asked to obey.

1 John 5:3

Peace and Joy....     and Freedom!

Boyer.

In other news, here's a pretty little proof I did for homework tonight:
Let * be an associate binary operation on set A with an identity element, e. Proof that the inverse of an element is unique if it exists.

Let y and z be inverses of x. We want to show that they are equivalent.
y = y * e                         (Identity theorem)
y* e = y * (x * z)            (z is the inverse of x)
y * (x* z) = (y * x) * z   (associative property)
(y * x) * z = e * z           (y is the inverse of x)
e * z = z                          (Identity theorem)

Therefore, by transitivity, y = z and the inverse of x is unique.

Notes of the day:


CT scans don't take very long. Only about a minute and a half. But when the nurse says you can't swallow your saliva for that short of a time it is still really difficult to do. Especially when the whole reason you are there is sinus issues resulting in constant drainage down your throat.


The US government has the standard American family monetary problem, living outside of its means. All I'm saying is that if the debt keeps growing, pretty soon 20%+ of our annual budget will simply be interest payments. Yuck.


The new Mutemath single Blood Pressure is out on iTunes, along with the song Odd Soul. Its worth a listen to.


The only thing I don't like about OSX Lion so far is the inability to manually rearrange my desktops/full screen apps on mission control.


I got a twitter. I think i'd really like it if the musicians/celebrities/artists/athletes and such that I actually want to hear about would tweet 25% as much. As of now its ok.


A quote:

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” -Søren Kierkegaard (Not saying i'm an existentialist...., just saying its a good quote)

A Poem:

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers; spent,
Leaned Me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beasts that compassed Me, I swooned.
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be,
And piercèd are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who hast no wound or scar?

-Amy Carmichael

Growing up is hard.

have you read the script?

could you picture it?

... is it worth the risk?

everything i love

is on the line,

on these neon signs.

but i need to know- when you looked away,

was it something that i said? was it something that i said?

well okay, okay, i need you more than i did before.

now that the concrete is nearly set.

here in the second act i’m living in repair.

strange how the heart adapts when its pieces disappear.

and there, on page 28, i’m so tired of drying glue,

i begin my grand attempt at building something new.

though i tend to write

the epiphany more immediately,

i guess i’m trusting that there’s such a thing

as elegance in dissonance.

God, i’m skeptical of pulling scenes.

was it something that i said? was it something that i did?

please don’t get me wrong- i still need your help

as history repeats itself

here in the aftermath, i’m pulling at the seams.

strange how the heart adapts in the absence of routine.

and there, on page 29, i find “new” and make it mine.

but i can't help casting shadows on all i leave behind.

maybe i could afford to change a bit...

even let go of the reigns?

every torn out page was worth the risk

now that the stakes have been raised.

so here in the final draft, i've given all i have. 

strange how the heart expands in the absence of a plan.

there's nothing left on the page, but i'm okay with that,

for i found my resolution

was designed for stronger hands.

-Ryan O'Neal

I am weary of this world. And I think it just means that I hold on to it too tightly.

Over the past 48 hours I have read enough headlines to make me want to give up. We've got some crazy 'fundamental christian' killing around 80 people in Norway. We've got the United States government bashing itself internally and on the verge of defaulting. We've got Casey Anthony and the hatred by everyone surrounding that trial, and the fact that a child is dead. We've got a train in China derailing and killing 32 people. We've got war. We've got hunger. We've got natural disasters. We've got a lot of crap to deal with. And this is just the headlines that I've read in the past 24 hours.

And then I look at my own life, and those close to me. I've got a dead dad. I had a friend tell me today that their dad committed suicide when they were younger. I see friends in pain from parents divorce, from breakups. Friends in financial struggles, and friends feeling hopeless as they fight to try and fix the broken-ness of the world.

And the worst part is, I think its been this way for thousands of years. Look at Paul, in Philippians (1:21-26ish) he discusses his desire to depart and be with Christ, yet out of love chooses to continue to bear his burden that was ordained for him. (Acts 9:16- "I will show him how much he must suffer for my name"). He seems a little weary to me.

In this world there will be suffering. And that's tough when you sit down and realize the implications of that.

Basically, you could say I'm depressed. But I think weary is a better word.

Its funny though, out of all of this hope stems. Slowly, but surely, the hope of redemption for the world, and justice for the world seem to break apart from their somewhat paradoxical standing and be reconciled together in the person of Jesus Christ and his hopefully soon return.

Thank goodness for hope.



On a related note, I think its interesting how the cup is a symbol of both suffering and blessing in scripture. David's cup overflows in the presence of his enemies in Pslam 23. Jesus prays that the cup be taken from him in Gethsemane. How keen.

I just want everyone to know that I really dislike how the following words are spelled. This list will probably be added to soon.

guarantee
hilarious

In general I hate spelling.

There's a slight chance for a deeper blog post soon. just sayin'.

I need to go on a rant about somethings. It isn't a real rant, but I still give it rant status.

The following things make absolutely no sense, yet everyone accepts them like they are normal and wonderful.

First of all, every single perfume, cologne, and deodorant ad or commercial I have ever seen makes no sense. For example:

Ok, so other than the cologne bottle being thrown in their for about, oh, 2% of the commercial, this is completely unrelated to anything doing with cologne, let alone ones sense of smell. It has an attractive man, ocean waves, and music to go with the 4 second narration and brand name. If you don't feel like watching the commercial, I believe the clip order is like this: ab muscles, neck sweat, waves, back muscles, pretty face, pecs and sweat, waves, ab muscles, dive, facial shot, more chest sweat, cologne bottle, waves. I would just like to point out that nothing in that, aside from the cologne bottle is related to the product.
But, Boyer, it has acqua in the name! True. I'll concede that. But I have a feeling that this cologne does not smell like the ocean. And I guarantee it will not make you instantly ripped and shirtless. And it certainly won't make you sweat super fast. In fact, last time I checked, cologne is supposed to make the wearer smell good,  (but all they usually do is make everyone around that person ask what that strange smell is) and I can't see smells.
Bottom line, apparently sex sells (we already knew that though...) and sex makes people forget that cool visual affects with attractive people is unrelated to smell (and reality).

However, I will say that old spice makes commercials so ridiculous that they make sense. I mean Ray Lewis covered in bubbles riding on a giant, jet-powered raven that blows up saturn with laser-beams from its eyes is intentionally ridiculous. I'm going to hope it was designed as a satire, because it pretty much serves as one. (Old spice commercials here.)

Second,
Who thought that a great addition to any garden would be a lawn gnome? They are creepy and purposeless. Besides, who really owns a hat that is 2/3 their body length and stands straight up? Sorry travelocity. (not really.)

This one has a couple of exceptions, but the amount of throw pillows you find on any hotel bed (and I'm sure most beds that are not in my house or apartment) makes no sense. On a bed, you need pillows to sleep on and possibly a pillow that you can use to support your back while watching TV. Nobody, absolutely nobody needs a set of 8 throw pillows, complete with 3 pairs of decreasing size squares and a pair of tootsie roll shape pillows. Nobody needs a 6 inch by 6 inch pillow and a perfectly cylindrical pillow seems ridiculous and unwieldy. Most importantly, in order to sleep on a throw pillow covered bed, you have to throw your pile of pillows somewhere else to even get to the covers. They serve no purpose. Go google image 'throw pillows on bed' and you'll see this image first.

All shapes, all sizes, and way too many tassels. It's an epidemic. Thanks for nothing pillows that stay on my floor.

Alright, I'm done. Ban perfume and cologne ads (naked and half-naked people don't necessarily smell good), ban lawn gnomes (dumb hats is reason enough), and ban throw pillows.


On a side note, no one can look cool while running out a garage door they just closed from the inside before it shuts AND successfully step over the laser safety beam. Just sayin'.