i'm not obsessed, i'm pre-occupied

i watch a lot of "the west wing." it's true. i like the show. sometimes i even agree with what they're saying. i care about the characters, and i like how they interact. when along the way did we decide that television was *necessarily* dumber than books? people analyze books to bits. have you ever been to pemberley.com?

:P

thot

there are a lot of things to get excited about in life - so much to be happy about, so much to look forward to, so much to celebrate.

there are also a lot of causes worthy of our attention and our action - so many wounds to heal, so many tears to wipe away.

but not one of those wonderful things measures up to the love of God, and not one of those needs approaches the world's need to know that love.

so it only makes sense that no other celebration or duty can ever compare to the worship of the One who loves us most.

it's beautiful and i love it. and i get the day off work.

Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep.
~ R. Frost

more worship notes:

the Lord says:
"these people come near to me with their mouth and honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men."
~ isaiah 29:13

worship is not a list of activities or rituals. it is a lifestyle and an attitude of the heart. but, more than anything, it is a reaction.

Scripture tells us that we love because God first loved us. we didn't invent worship. it is our reaction to God. to His perfect love and mercy. to His holy, holy holiness.

the difference between a reaction and a response:
the response was already a fact, dormant; it is not created or provoked by a stimuli, it is only awakened.
the reaction begins its existence when the stimuli is introduced; it wasn't hiding somewhere before only to become relevant now.

when we hear, "i love you," we may respond with "i love you, too." very rarely is that a reaction . . . it's a response.

not so with God's love. God's consistent and constant "i love you"s provoke our reaction: "i love You, too." our worship is always an "i love You, too" . . . it cannot be an independent "i love you" because our love is a reaction to God's, brought into being by God's.

we love because He first loved us.

what is worship?

(more from my testimony attempts)

what is worship? is it singing? prayer? service? tithing?

we'd like to think so. we like to compartmentalize God. we like rules. i know, it doesn't look like it. it's true, we don't like obeying rules. but we like enumerating them. we love limits, structure. so, if we could, we would codify a clear list of activities which constitute worship. a checklist.

but God doesn't work that way, does He? He told the israelites how to atone for their sins, but He said, "to obey is better than sacrifice." He said we ought to deny ourselves, pick up our crosses, and follow Him. is that a checklist? well, not a practical one:

TO DO:
1) deny myself
2) pick up my cross
3) follow Jesus

no, it doesn't work that way.

in a study we did on forms of worship, my bible study group divided into pairs and each group provided a definition and a "purpose" for each medium. we studied tithing, service, communion, prayer, and so on. at the end of each monday night we were forced to come to the same conclusion: whatever the form of worship was we had been discussing, it was a way of life.

we hit upon an undeniable truth: worship is a way of life, an attitude of the heart. romans 12:1 tells us as much: "present your bodies as living sacrifices, for this is your spiritual act of worship." but i thought worship was music-related! i thought it meant good music with the right lighting and - please! - no songs that are more than five years old! you might think that that's what worship is. but God disagrees. and that's never a good sign.

in six years . . .

(from one of my drafts for my testimony, october 4, 2003)

in six years of striving to know and serve God better, the one idea that has been repeatedly proven true, the one characteristic of God that has consistently been demonstrated has been His complete faithfulness. Scripture says that if we deny Him and are ashamed of Him, He will be ashamed of us, but if - no when - we are faithless and unfaithful, He is still faithful.

nothing can shake His faithfulness.

believe me, i've tried.

endurance

this is from october 6th, during my plane ride from calgary to toronto:

His love endures forever.
~Psalm 136:1

it doesn't just exist . . . God's love doesn't merely exist forever. it endures: it "remains firm under suffering or misfortune without yielding" (thank you, merriam webster).

it lasts, it perseveres with zero wear-and-tear!

it's INDESTRUCTIBLE . . . despite opposition, it's neverending

jesus is real, jesus is alive, jesus loves you

you need all three, hey? if jesus is real and alive, but doesn't love me . . . then what do i need him for? if jesus is real and he loves me, but he's not alive . . . then he isn't able to have a role in my life today. if jesus is alive and he loves me, but it's all just a fairy tale . . . then there is no truth there that can set me free.

jesus is real, jesus is alive, jesus loves me.

. . . hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, Your love makes me sing . . .

december 7, 1998

i found this bible study from that date. elfreda led us through a little bit on dating. under the heading "who do i want to date (who is my ultimate)?" i wrote:

- spiritually superior in some but not all ways
- can intellectually discuss God and how He affects our lives
- similar but not identical interests, values, belief systems
- an individual - not dependant [sic] on anyone but God
- teasable and teasing
- interested in living (sports, music - *stuff*, not just things)
- very easy to talk to in both serious and less serious situations
- passionate and determined about his hopes, dreams, values, opinions, etc.
- funny
- eager and willing to learn and teach
- God always #1 - above me
- able to appreciate my background/opinions

october 22

it really feels like i'm reliving two years ago.

i went to camp.

i moved.

i felt alone, like never before.

trusts broken.

faith stretched.

on october 22nd, 2001, i started working at toys "r" us. retail - i'd sworn i'd never do it.

on october 22nd, 2003, i started working at subway. food - one step below retail.

this is weird.

unspeakable, maybe.

i don't think i understand joy.

i'm alone.

i'm broke.

i'm tired.

i'm useless.

i'm lost.

i fell down and ripped my pants.

whatever joy is . . . i can't see it. i can't feel it.

joy may not be the only thing that's unspeakable . . . this kind of crappiness is pretty hard to describe, too.

this is why gossip is a bad thing

so melanie was talking to ranjan and sunil this weekend, while at ottawa world's prep. no word of a joke, "what happened to mara who michael used to be in love with? it's too bad she never felt the same way."

um. what?!

michael, who took me to two tournaments when i was a novice?

michael, who knew that my parents refered to him as "the guy mara slept with"?

michael, who should have known how i felt about him long before i spelled it out in a long letter? (btw, no more letters, man. that needs to stop.)

even if this isn't true, i can't believe how off-balance it's put me.

ack!

possession

sometimes i feel possessed.

no, not *that* way. but . . . i catch myself doing or saying things - especially postures and nervous habits - that ARE my parents. both of them, now. it used to be just my dad. it's kinda scary . . . but kinda nice, too.

faith-sowing - part II

here's why:
if God is living, if He's a real "person" - for lack of a better word - than you can't just ignore the fact that He loves you, sacrificed for you, and so on. a response is necessary. there is no such option as "no response." to ignore is to respond by rejecting. so one has to make a decision.

man alive

so, last round at fall open, gov decides to run "it is better to hit on someone rather than wait for him/her to hit on you."

i still have hair but it may very well be white.

too.much.to.say.

will.journal.later.

joy, luck, and a disturbing trend

ok, how strange is it that i keep getting into places where i have to think about rape? "the magdalene sisters", a chat with melanie today (purely philosophical, no worries!), and then "the joy luck club" . . . and this disturbing trend of blaming women for being raped. i mean, there is no rationale - none - for that. so how do people still get away with it?

faith-sowing

i was listening to that newsboys song . . . yesterday . . . . (that took a minute) and i realized something for the billionth time. but i wanted to record it here for prosterity . . . maybe this way i'll remember it for the next time camp rolls around.

campers aren't going to make a decision for Christ during the ninety-minute bible session. nor during devotions in the evening. they're going to make a decision during canoeing, or crafts, or sports, or lunch, or campfire, or swimming, or while walking to and from the cabin ten times. maybe they only make that decision formal, verbalize it, during devotions. but they're not making the decision based on what we tell them about Jesus then. they're making the decision based on how we live what we tell them.

when i made a decision for Christ, it wasn't because i found out He loved me, or that He died for me, or that He was worthy of all my praise. i knew that already. i decided to give my life to Him because He was real. a ninety-minute bible session gives information about God, but not conviction. in the end, what will convince a child more than anything is seeing that it's true. in my life.

"preach the gospel at all times . . . use words when necessary." ~ st. francis

blargh

i think i've hit the ceiling on being infuriated. it's not that there's no longer any cause for infuriation - if that is, in fact, a word. neither am i indifferent to these infuriating things. it's only that i'm tired of being infuriated. it's exhausting work and, no matter how hard i try to remedy the stimuli, there's always something right around the corner waiting to pounce.

let's get specific.

i watched "the magdalene sisters" with my mom last night. corina and dad saw "seabiscuit" . . . making the need for my infuriation less acute. but, nonetheless . . . the movie is a true-to-life account of the experiences of "loose women" who were sent to magdalene asylums across britain and ireland. the last such asylum closed in 1996.

for those not sharp on math, that's SEVEN years ago. !!!!!

anyway, the philosophy is that these women of the flesh (some of whom are there because they flirted, some because they got pregnant, and some because they had the audacity to get raped) must, like mary magdalene before them, reform by repenting, removing all pleasure from their lives, and leading an existence best described as eternal penance. in exchange they'll find salvation and earn a place in heaven where, presumably, they won't spend every day doing laundry.

no matter how loud i yell i at the movie screen, no matter how clearly i explain the truth to my mother . . . i can't undo what the damage these asylums have done. and it's not just about the torture it put innocent women through. it's about a brand of grace-cheapening that is beyond disgusting.

my Jesus didn't die on the cross so that i could carry around guilt and try to work off my sin by living a life of horror. He didn't rise from the dead so that i would live a life of defeat. and i don't know *what* gospel these insane nuns were reading, but mary magdalene was granted grace by Jesus Himself. period. "let him who has no sin cast the first stone" . . . does this ring a bell for anyone?

i can't be angry with the movies that depict this crap. i mean, the filmmakers don't agree with it either, they're only testifying to its occurrence. and that's what i really object to . . . not the depiction of the truth, but this particular truth.

even i am getting tired of saying things like, "yes, i know the church did that in the name of God, but it isn't at all consistent with what the bible says, the character of God, the teachings of Christ, the meaning of grace . . . ." yeah, it's all true. but blah blah blah.

maybe i'm a little bitter at the legacy i carry around. i'm sure it's even harder if you're a catholic right now. but aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

just aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

wwmd? i don't know if i'd recommend it

my friend emma hasn't seen me in four or five months. she's an accomplished zoology student, an orson wells enthusiast, and all-around adorable. having a british accent helps.

when we parted ways last night after a late dinner at gabby's (tm) she hugged me and said, "you're great!" i was confused but could sincerely say that it was more than mutual. she repeated it and said i helped her get through her field course.

"there was a wretched, awful chap up there and i was thinking about the prospect of him annoying me for ten weeks . . . and then i asked myself, 'what would mara do?' surely she would pity him for being wretched and awful."

pardon me? "well, did it work?"

"well, he didn't annoy me as much for the remainder of the ten weeks. i thought 'surely a christian would look for redeeming qualities' . . . i'm looking, i'm looking, i have my binoculars out . . ."

it was funny, but i was still back on "what would mara do?" emma thought this? i mean, i know emma respects me . . . but this is the emma who told me that she could never believe as i do because of the suffering in the world. and i think that may have been the only time we talked about God. so . . . what?!

really, sometimes you never know.

there's no place like 127.0.0.1

i was challenged by this:
----------------------------------
We spend part of our time at home and part of it in the wilderness. Home is where we feel safest in our familiar surroundings. The wilderness, however, has danger lurking everywhere: animals that might attack us, trails that are hard to follow, and places where it is easy to become lost.
I have only one question to ask this evening at our last campfire together: Where are you at home and where are you in the wilderness?
----------------------------------

i had just finished telling someone about how i've been homeless for two years. this demands more thought.

a sunday afternoon

so, we left youth councils at 2:30ish on sunday and got to tuscany around 4. we dumped our stuff off and i threw janna in the air and she grabbed my glasses. good stuff.

we got to the place where we do the kids club at around 4:45. everyone's nerves were shot. marren and sean were frustrated with each other. blargh.

so the group of us working on the kids club split up the kids and jumped into three vehicles and hit the streets. we were just dropping by to meet parents, say hi to the kids and remind them to come back this week. stuff like that. second house my car went to wasn't one of my kids, but the woman who leads the group wanted me to come with her. jessica (the girl we were visiting) looks like she might have down's or something like it, but there's no noticeable mental disability when you talk to her. anyway, her leader (jessi) wanted me to go with her just in case. jessica's sister opens the door, we tell her who we are and jessica comes to the door in her hallowe'en costume. as soon as she sees jessi, she just grabs her.

jessi goes over the info with jessica hugging her. then jessica lets go and moves on to me. jessica starts listing games we should play this week at kids club. her older sister (14ish, i think) interrupts not to take attention away from jessica, but to get some for herself. by the time we finish, jessi and i walk away going, "there needs to be something for teenagers in forest lawn"

so many interesting things happened. parents who were surprised to see us and couldn't believe we'd dropped by just to remind the kids to come back. kids calling their friends and inviting them to come to kids club - while angie was standing at the door! really neat stuff.

we finally finished up and headed over to forest lawn for dinner. their last bbq. when our carload got there, marren and angie had already been there for a while and marren said she'd arranged a ride home for us. angie added that she'd had to give her testimony as compensation. so she had already spoken about her experience this weekend.

i grab my dinner and go sit with one of the youth leaders who had been at yc . . . we chatted a bit and, when i got up to get watermelon or something i got caught. by mrs. b - the corps officer.

so, ten minutes later i gave my testimony . . . i didn't really want to, 'cause some of them had already hear it and i don't like giving the same "sermon" more than once. so God changed it a little.

i spoke about God's eagerness to engage with us; about how easy it is to find Him when we seek Him with all we have. and how He's just *waiting* to bless us. and He only has to wait because we choose to wait for "worship time" . . . . and then i gave a bit of my testimony.

the gist of it what this: God is screaming "I love you!!!!" through nature, through His word, through everything. live a life that's all about saying 'i love you, too!'

it's true

i was hoping it would turn out not to be, seeing as i'm twenty-two and a quarter and . . . well, i'd like to think i'm an adult. but maybe it's high time i just embrace this part of me. maybe being a real, mature adult means not being ashamed about things like this. maybe being self-confident means that i don't feel the need to justify myself to others.

i am loud. i am proud. i am unable to fall asleep without listening to "adventures in odyssey"!!!

um

ought i to find it disturbing that i had incredibly vivid and horrifying dreams about what zoey bartlet's kidnappers might have done to her over the 36 hours that she was missing? i'm talking about "the west wing."

yeah, shut up.

no, seriously. i never have bad dreams and now first i can't fall asleep at night and, all of a sudden, knives and pain and stuff.

grr.

go away, bad dream, boo!

let's begin with a confession

i'll admit it. i'm a copy-cat. but you have to be stupid not to jump on good bandwagons, right? and, truth be told, i've been meaning to start something like this for a while.

yeah.

you know, i've never finished a journal. i got my first diary when i was eight (the day i turned eight, as a matter of fact) and ever since i've been an un-finisher of assorted diaries and journals.

i suck.

but this one . . . . this one *won't* have those tell-tale empty pages at the end! hurrah for online journaling! down with paper and pens and guilt!

and welcome.