A change of major.

I've mused over this for quite some time.
And decided I don't want to get a teaching degree. Not anymore—

I'll teach for the rest of my life.
I couldn't stop that if I wanted to; it's what God has gifted me with.

Now, our system has produced plenty of wonderful teachers.
And there are those who will do brilliant things with teaching degrees.

But I don't think I could handle it.
I feel like my passion would be crushed by our educational system.

I don't want to submit to it;
if I do I feel like it'll use me to squander my students' potential.

I'd spend my career longing for something more.
Searching for what I'm missing, lacking the freedom to see it realized.

Have we really found the most effective way to utilize gifts and passions?
Have we really reached the plateau of education in our country?

Bubbling up from my core is an emphatic, resounding, "No."
It echoes through the whole of society.

I want to tear down presuppositions about standardized, systematic learning.
I want to break it apart and reveal it's flaws.

More than that, I want make it better.

I want to change what learning looks like.
I want to reform how our society views education.

I'm filled with an inexplicable desire.
There's a fire burning within me.

I can't put it out.
I don't want to.

If you like muffins...

This essay was my final paper in a humanities class. 

It is obnoxiously long for a blog post; I am aware of this.

It pretends to be deep, but I'm quite confident that my feeble three hours of working on this paper did not produce any profoundly groundbreaking thoughts which I am morally obligated to share with mankind.

This is just for your amusement, if you are, in fact, looking to be amused.

So, if you're familiar with René Descartes... Or you enjoy pondering the nature of God and the universe... Or you feel like subjecting yourself to four pages of philosophical rhetoric.... Well, then this blog post is for you.

Knock yourself out:

Prompt: Descartes offers several proofs of God’s existence. Evaluate his proofs. What would count as success for Descartes? If you think Descartes is successful, what is the concept ‘God’ that Descartes is employing?

René Descartes was a rationalist philosopher. The rationalists wanted to prove everything by reason alone, because they thought that 'the senses' were unreliable. Generally, people tend to think that the existence of God can only be proven by using both senses and reason, but Descartes' attempted to logically prove the existence of god with reason alone. One can build arguments against in his theories, but I have concluded that Descartes presents valid, successful reasoning.

René Descartes spent significant amounts of time considering human knowledge, and in doing so he attempted to whittle down extraneous, circumstantial human understanding to find the things that he could know for sure. He discarded all the wisdom, understanding, and information he had gained from his experiences and his senses, which he had deemed untrustworthy, and discovered that he knew essentially nothing at all. He doubted every bit of knowledge he thought he had, everything except his very existence. The reasoning behind this was that, because he doubted, he could be at least sure that a being who doubted had to exist. He could be certain that he himself was in existence. This is the meaning behind Descartes' famous saying: 'Cogito, ergo sum.' — 'I think, therefore I am.'

After arriving at this premise, Descartes ventured to prove the existence of a god. His proofs can be simplified and summarized as such: First: I exist. Second: in my mind there is the notion of a perfect being. Third: an imperfect being, like myself, cannot think up the notion of a perfect being. Fourth: therefore, the notion of a perfect being must have originated from the perfect being himself. Fifth: a perfect being would not be perfect if it did not exist. Sixth: therefore, a perfect being must exist.

So is Descartes' reasoning sound? Does this argument irrefutably prove to us that there is a god? I think we can all agree that the first point is valid. We can all be sure of our own existence. No one argues that they don't exist; if they did, they wouldn't be there to argue their opinion anyway.

The second proof, however, is not as irrefutably true as the first. It is apparent that Descartes had an idea of a perfect entity in his mind. I find that I am in the same position as he, but there are certainly people in the world who don't have this kind of idea. What are they supposed to believe? Should they assume that, because Descartes and myself believe there is a god, God exists and simply failed to put that idea into their minds? Or should they make the assumption that a belief in a god is not the innate, natural position that Descartes thought it was? It is very evident that not everyone in the world has this idea of an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving god. Many Christians actually believe that mankind is not capable of conceiving and grasping the idea of God. This seems to be in direct conflict with Descartes' belief that everybody has this idea of a perfect being from birth, yet this Christian belief does not contradict Descartes' view; it supports it. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, "He has set eternity in the hearts of men; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." So all people, while incapable of fully comprehending God—though some do more than others—have an inner longing for something that lasts beyond this life. This idea carries over to support the Descartes' third point.

He postulates that an imperfect being, such as himself, would never be capable of thinking up the notion of a perfect being. When I make blueberry muffins, I'm under no delusion that the muffins think about me. Yet I can conclude even more decisively that they aren't thinking up a mystical creature that invented them. They aren't thinking at all; they're muffins. Now, if when I was making them I had sprinkled into the batter a teaspoon of imagination, that might be more plausible. But it isn't within the power of the muffins to acquire such an imagination; that ability rests with the baker—me—assuming I possess, somewhere in my kitchen, a jar of imagination without which baked goods of any kind could not hope to fathom myself, the Easter Bunny, or any notion of what happens after they've been chewed up and swallowed. The point is this: the ability to imagine lies in the creator, and the creator alone. This is something Descartes recognized. If creation has the capacity to imagine things, it is imperative to understand that that ability could have only been given by a Creator. This brings us to the fourth and fifth pieces of his argument.

The fourth and fifth points present very simple and valid lines of logic, which are congruent with all previous proofs. If one logically reaches the conclusion that an imperfect being could not imagine perfection without the idea of perfection, or eternity, having been placed in the imperfect being's mind, the next practical resolution is that perfection must, in one form or another, exist. To try to reason the acquisition of a notion of God that didn't come from God is to attempt a rather vast leap in reasoning; how else could a flawed being fathom perfection? Furthermore, in response to the fifth postulate, how could something be perfect that does not exist? Existence is a necessary attribute of a perfect being; existence is a necessary attribute of anything. This is backed up in the reasoning of the first, second, and third postulates and reflected in Descartes' view of our knowledge derived from experience. 

Descartes successfully builds a logical argument to prove the existence of a god. He does not succeed in determining which god, specifically, but instead the inherent truth that a perfect being does exist. He succeeds in that he is able to reach a conclusion not from senses or knowledge gained from experience, but merely from the nature of existence itself. This is the essence of his reasoning. Like any conclusion reached using Descartes method, the understanding and acceptance of each piece of this puzzle is crucial in grasping the theory as a whole. Pascal reminded us that this is the most important conclusion we can reach; as C.S. Lewis said, "Christianity, if false, is of no importance and, if true, is of infinite importance. The one thing it cannot be is moderately important."

Things I get excited about:

FROOT LOOPS!

Telling stories

Fireplaces

Going on adventures

The first snow

Hugs

Live music

Clear, starry night skies

Inside jokes

Raspberry chai tea

Ice-skating 

Hanging out with my family

Movie nights

Tangibly seeing God work

Baking muffins

Speaking french... With french people!

Ukuleles

Fantastic literature

The progress of the gospel

and last but not least,

Blueberries.

What is the deal?

The more I read the Word,
the more I realize how filthy and pathetic I am.
The more I see of my own shortcomings,
the more I want to follow the example of Christ.
The more I learn about Jesus,
the more undeserving I feel.
The more I realize my own unworthiness,
the more I understand how overwhelmingly loved I am.
And the more I see God's perfect, selfless love,
the more I want to read His Word.

WHAT is the DEAL?!

What is it about Christ that draws me irresistibly to him?
Despite having light shed on my filthiness, shortcomings, and unworthiness...
I can't stay away.

I know do bad things and I know I'm not a good person.
Anyone who thinks they're a good person is lying to themselves...
But then there's this guy who was actually perfect,
and he chose to go and get himself crucified.
And then he said that it was for me;
for the stuff I've done.
And that what he did washes all that crap away.

And if I could, in my selfishness,
I think I'd prefer to take that 'get outta Hell free card'
and leave this crazy radical to his ethereal schemes,
continuing to live my life the way I want to.

But something about him just doesn't let me do that.
Something about his bleeding, broken body
calls me back to the foot of the cross
to gaze at his horrific suffering and death,
and just...
 

Worship.
Cry out.
Be humbled.
Mourn over my sin.
Give up control of my live.
Repent and turn from my disgusting monstrosities.
Learn and grow in my understanding of the Creator of the universe.
And fight against my evil nature until the day I'm called home.

His irresistible, selfless, undeserved love draws me in,
making me hate myself,
while giving me the ability,
the strength,
the conviction,
and the desire
to change who I am,
soli deo gloria.

Submit yourselves therefore to God.

Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

Cleanse your hands, you sinners,

and purify your hearts, you double-minded. 

Be wretched and mourn and weep. 

Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. 

Humble yourselves before the Lord, 

and he will exalt you. 

James 4:7 

†

technology ruins lives

I'm sitting in the union, trying to work on an essay but getting distracted by the plethora of Mark Driscoll sermons available online. I'm sitting in a cushy armchair, munching on dry lucky charms and wishing I had headphones so I could listen to music. I'm sitting by a window, watching the snow and contemplating God's sovereignty. I'm sitting near a guy and a girl who are in a relationship, a couple that has been there for an hour and barely spoken 10 words to each other.
They walked in together.
They found a pair of chairs.
They each pulled out their fancy shmancy smart phones and never looked back.

Do you s'pose they're in love? Do you s'pose they think they are?

I mean, I know I don't know them...
But...
That can't be what it's s'posed to look like.

Today has been

                                   ...one of those days.

Wretched things:

I'm sick.

I'm tired.

I'm stressed.

I'm confused.

I miss camp.

I miss soccer.

I miss my friends.

I miss my family.

Things that always make me feel better:
Prayer.
Reading Donald Miller.
Being cozy.
Watching glorious sunsets.
Getting a back rub that's so good it hurts.
Feeling pretty.
Going on walks at night.
Listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.
Jumping in puddles.
Painting.
Hearing the Truth.
Drinking raspberry chai.
Hugs.
Assurance that God knows what He's doing.

I'm looking for a place

where I can plant my faith.

One thing I know for sure;

that I cannot create it

and I cannot sustain it.

It's Your love that's keeping me

Please be my strength. 

Please be my strength,

cause I don't have any more.

I don't have any more.

And at my final breath,

I hope that I can say,

"I fought the good fight of faith."

I pray your glory shines 

in this doubting heart of mine

And all would know that You--

You are my strength.

You are my strength;

You and You alone.

You keep bringing me back home.

the origami thing.

"What's with all the birds?"

-anybody who has ever noticed how many paper cranes I make daily.

Well...

I need to be doing something with my hands
------ otherwise I have a hard time listening.

Possible ADD? Not sure...

I used to doodle.

Teachers got mad.

I started biting my nails.

Mom got mad.

In the 7th grade, I watched David Lee make a paper crane.

I watched and learned and began clumsily making little birds of my own.

Teachers didn't yell when flammable avians began appearing on their bookshelves, my mom could handle the tiny creatures cluttering the counters around our house (as long as you could see some white at the ends of my nails), and I was able to pay attention in AP U.S. History; everybody's happy.

As a bonus, my long nails are helpful in making irrationally tiny cranes, which other people always seem to get a kick out of.
After a while I could do it with my eyes closed.

It might be conservative to say that I make lots of them.

I don't know what my point is.

I've just noticed recently
that tons of people I know associate me with paper cranes.

I like it, I think...

But it's a little odd.

I suppose I can see how this random useless talent might be endearing to people. The end result --a paper bird-- isn't what I'm in it for; I just need to be doing something with my hands. Though, I do enjoy the look of joyful fascination on peoples' faces when I place a minuscule bird in front of them.

It looks a little something like this:

tee-hee.

my heart is breaking, overflowing

You are so loving, so kind-hearted.
One of the most generous, forgiving souls
I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.
And yet you're on a path to destruction
paved with sweet thoughts and good deeds
that will fool everyone
right up until it really matters.
On that Day,
do you think the perfect, holy, almighty God
will look at all your shiny happy actions
and give you a pat on the head
and a first-class ticket to paradise?
You sin just like the rest of us,
like everyone who has ever lived
---apart from one.
And that One
was mocked and tortured and murdered
and had the horrific wrath of a righteous Judge poured on him
to save us all from the death we earned for our sinfulness.
For the sake of mankind.
FOR YOU.
You've lived a wonderful life;
that much can be seen from the surface.
But do you think it counts for eternity?
No matter how good we are,
we don't deserve it.
We can't earn it.
And if we try to do it on our own,
we scorn his shame
and set ourselves on a steadfast course to Hell.
Forever is coming.
Each day of our Earthly life wisps by as eternity draws nearer and nearer.
And saying that you don't quite know what you believe,
or that your idea of God is just different,
or that you've got your whole life to figure it out
is a cop-out.
And it doesn't change anything.
My heart breaks daily
for the condition of your soul.
But I want you to know
that, while I ache constantly out of love for you,
I rest in this assurance:
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt
that if our Creator chooses to give you a glimpse of eternity
and enables you to see His all-surpassing grace,
you will be irresistibly drawn to Him.
I long for that day.
I pray for it earnestly.
I love you.

Dear Mom and Dad (and other people that care),

I really love breakfast.
It turns a good day into a great day.
I found the best morning routine ever. It involves getting up an hour before I need to, reading my bible, getting dressed, eating breakfast, setting an alarm for 13 minutes before I need to leave for class, and crawling back into bed.
It makes all the early morning groggy feelings go away.
I still haven't used those coin laundry machines...
If my calculations are correct,
and I do, in fact, come home at least once a month,
I can last this entire year without using them.
It's a bit of a stretch, but I'm stubborn enough for it to happen.
Lactose-intolerance. Makes. My. Stomach. Hurt.
School work is getting a bit monotonous.
Sometimes I procrastinate... A lot.
Whenever I do, I freak out. And when it's all over, I just have to laugh at myself.
God has a sense of humor-- that's what I've learned in the past few weeks.
For example:
I waited until the day before to write an informative speech
about the effects of caffeine,
got three hours of sleep that night trying to finish it,
was completely tweaking on caffeine as I went to class to present,
aaaaand we ran out of time so I don't get to give it.
Yep.
Whenever it rains here, I am THE most prepared person on campus.
An umbrella + boots + a raincoat + a good attitude.
My umbrella is so gosh-darn pretty, everyone compliments me on it.
Thanks, Mom.
A pair of lovely friends have been plopped into my life.
They're not what I expected,
but they're just what I needed.
My Creator is so much wiser than I.
I bought this bag of candy corn that was on sale at Walmart.
I don't care for pretty much any sweets...
But I'm not gonna lie, candy corn is delicious.
And for some reason I thought it would last me for the entire month of October...
But it's definitely almost gone already.
I spend a lot of time reading.
But only half of that time is reading for classes.
I'm captivated by C.S. Lewis and Donald Miller and Jane Austen.
I can't leave them alone.
Suzanne and I go to the WRC to work out twice a week;
I usually bike so that I can keep reading.
"Exercising your mind and your body simultaneously!"
Our bathroom is very cold. It makes getting out of the shower unpleasant.
Brothers:
Do you have a giant box of legos?
Is your ball stuck in a tree?
Got a Nintendo 64?
How about a thick rope that's 100+ feet long?
Boom: countless hours of entertainment.
I have moments here when I think about how much and why I love you.
Luke-- on occasion, you use words like 'reputable' in text messages.
This makes my heart melt.
Matt-- we would make the BEST brother/sister Doo-wop duo EVER.
Don't you even try to deny it.
Reid-- I remember using Google on your computer once
and I happened to notice that the last thing you searched was "classy."
I can only assume a picture of you popped up.
Andrew-- you always try to solve my back problems
by giving me bone-crushing hugs...
It has yet to work, but I have faith for the future.
Last but not least, you all grow facial hair like grass.
These snazzy gentlemen have pinched, poked, sat on, tackled, made fun of,
and looked after me my entire life.
These tears? The ones I've got slipping down my nose right now?
They're mostly happy ones.
Fall is one of the best-smelling seasons.
The nails on my right hand are shiny, long and uniformly manicured.
The ones on my left (sans thumb) are very short and moderately janked up...
From playing the guitar.
It's always awkward when people I don't really know point it out.
Our bible study is nice. It's simple stuff,
but I feel like I learn more when I'm helping others understand things, anyway.
The leader wrote a comment to me the other day,
"You bring in some great insights (and cross references! I don't know how you do it!) that have really helped our study."
And I...
Well, I guess... I don't know 'how I do it' either?
I don't feel like I'm a particularly knowledgable biblical scholar or anything.
The only thing I can come up with
is that I was raised in an amazing church that preached the truth.
And for that I am extremely thankful.
I've started making paper cranes again.
Out of the pretty paper you two gave me for Christmas.
I love you.
One of the pieces of candy corn was super deformed....
And I haven't eaten it yet. It's just sitting on my desk.
I like it.
I miss my nieces so much it hurts.
I hear Ingrid is a thumb-sucker.
That girl knows what's up.
My dorm room is starting to feel like it's my own. It's colorful. It's cozy.
But I get swallowed up by the repetitive nature of my day-to-day life.
Some days I'm happy;
some days it feels like I'm suffocating.
Some days I laugh easily;
some days I'm ready to come home.
I'm fighting for joy,
but some days it's just hard.

I'll see you all in two days <3
((Can we have gyros?))

Once upon a Sunday morning...

The pastor drives home his point, loudly proclaiming, "JESUS IS OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS!"
And a little boy in the pew behind me, drawing in a coloring book with crayons, echoes in a voice louder than his mother would probably prefer, "Jesus is our righteousness!"
A moment of silence ensues, and there is a smile on my face as I glance backward, hearing the same small voice ask in a quieter tone, "Is that true?"
"Yes!" comes the whispered reply of the mother.
"Oh. Mom? ...What is right us mess?"
"We'll talk about it at home, Caleb."

I cried today.

Because I realized I'm that person James was talking about.
That guy who studies his own face in the mirror,
and then turns and walks away,
promptly forgetting what he looks like.
I hear the word, but I don't do the word.

"IT'S NOT ENOUGH TO CALL YOUR SELF A DISCIPLE OF JESUS."

I say all these things, but do I really have the will to put them into action?

Or am I just reciting these truths--

these beautiful, perfect, flawless truths--
these truths I've learned but never fully bought into?
Because I've never truly applied them to my life--
Not in their entirety, at least.

"HOW DID WE GET TO A PLACE IN CHRISTIANITY WHERE PEOPLE CALL THEMSELVES 'CHRISTIANS' BUT LOOK NOTHING LIKE JESUS?"

I cried because I fall short.
Again and again and again.
For this I hate myself sometimes.
At least I hate the parts of me that aren't reflecting Christ.
Which, at times, can be a rather pretty overwhelming proportion.
And so I beat up on myself.
I cried because when I listen to myself, I hear:
I'll never be good enough.
I'll never be satisfied with myself.
I'll never consider myself to be valuable.
And then I realize that my thinking is completely backwards.
And that in my self-loathing,
I'm defiling something that God created to be pure and beautiful and holy.
Not my actions, which are sinful-- that's not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about me.
Because my sin has been washed away.
I'm talking about the reality that I'm justified in the eyes of my creator.
He looks at my filth and sees Jesus' blood:
and it is finished.

Yet I continue to treat myself like garbage,
somehow warping truth & thinking I need to be punished for the crappy stuff I've done--
for my continual failures and shortcomings.
Thinking that I need to suffer for my wrongs,
as though they require more payment...
As though Jesus' death was somehow insufficient.

I cried today because I couldn't bring myself to accept His grace.
Not that I don't think it's adequate:
I know it's more than enough.
The insufficiency I'm overwhelmed with is my own.
I don't feel like I'm worthy of anything,
let alone perfect love.
Today is one of those days that I just have to remind myself...
The point of grace is that I don't deserve it.
Because when I'm utterly incapable on my own, that's when God get's all the credit.
And my self-worth should reflect the fact that I'm a part of God's kindgom.
The point of everything is for God to receive the most glory.
And that isn't achieved by me punishing myself;
it's achieved by complete humility, gratitude, submission and praise.

2 Timothy 1:9-10

"[God] saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel"

( I Wonder by Leeland )

I’m in awe at the majesty of who You are

Your love is a seal burnt inside my heart

All of the day I want to be where You are

Holy Father

And it feels like there’s not enough praise inside of me

With all these words, all my heart can sing is holy

You are holy 

Jesus Christ

You bled Your love, laid down Yourself

And gave me life

In naked shame You hung and You were lifted high

Here I lay in awe and wonder

And I am afraid

For no one’s ever sacrificed and loved me this way

So on my face I fall under Your heavy grace

Here I lay in awe and wonder

And I wonder

Jane Austen > George Bernard Shaw

My Fair Lady.

We watched it last night.

(The Audrey Hepburn one, I haven't seen the play)

I've been brooding ever since.

And I'm still moderately irked.

(As much as you can be after watching an Audrey Hepburn movie, anyway...)

Why?

Higgins.

Of course they end up together.

Silly old movies always give you what you expect in that regard.

(Except for Casablanca, of course, which is why it's so fantastic.)

But honestly?

He's the same egotistical, contemptuous, self-righteous

---I'm looking for a noun here that runs no risk of being offensive---

Brute?

He's the same at the end of the movie as he was at the beginning.

Why do I dislike it so much when characters are allowed to maintain the same level of elevated conceit throughout the duration of a story line? Perhaps I've been spoiled by Pride and Prejudice... I spent a year pouring over that text, analyzing the arrogance and eventual humility of both Darcy and Elizabeth. (Not of my own volition-- it was for a class. I like the book, but I'm not THAT crazy.) The nature of the story-- the reason it's endearing-- is that they both have to realize that their level of presupposed self-awesomeness isn't quite where they had previously thought; they have to get over themselves. They force one another to develop-- to grow and change and become better people. And to be honest, it's quite refreshing.


Iron sharpens iron. It's something meaningful. Something to strive after, you know what I mean?

We're at war.

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

(Romans 5:1-5)

Something I've been thinking about for the past few weeks, which has surfaced in conversations, books and scripture I've been reading, and songs and a few different sermons I've listened to: what is our attitude toward suffering? And what's our response? When we suffer, when stuff isn't going the way we'd like or the way we expected, we're called to have joy.

To REJOICE.

Easier said than done, I know. The world is tainted by sin so, sure, it sucks; but we can have confidence that there is a loving Father behind every aspect of our lives, including our suffering. And He does NOTHING without purpose.

That's something to be joyful about. And maybe not in the sense that you're always happy or always in a good mood, but in continually having contentment and peace in the understanding that the trials of this world cannot possibly overcome us if we are in Christ.

--John 16:33--
I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace.
In the world you will have tribulation.
But take heart; I have overcome the world.

God gives us grace sufficient for each day. That's the only reality with which we can have complete joy, too: Our faith is in God alone to get us from day to day. Our contentment is not circumstantial. When we set our hope on God-- when it's no longer about us, but instead about what He has done for us-- He works through our trials to achieve good. Good for us? Sometimes, sure. But not always. Sometimes we suffer merely so we can empathize and share Christ with others in their suffering. In the same way, when God gives us comfort, it's so that we can turn around and pour out comfort and love on others.

We need to get our eyes off ourselves and fix our eyes on Jesus.

And it's hard. It's going against our nature. Our selfish narcissism gets in the way. Our pride, our self-centeredness, our sin. It's a battle; all day, errrr day.  Fighting to tear our focus off the circumstantial storms that threaten to blow us off course. The crucial thing is, though, that they only have merit if you accredit it to them. So I'll reiterate:

What is our attitude?

"God does not mean for us to be passive. He means for us to fight the fight of faith--the fight for joy. And the central strategy is to preach the gospel to yourself. This is war. Satan is preaching for sure. If we remain passive, we surrender the field to him. You must go on to remind yourself of God; who God is, and what God has done, and what God has pledged 

Himself to do..."

1. Realize that authentic joy in God is a gift.
2. Realize that joy must be fought for relentlessly.
3. Resolve to attack all known sin in your life.
4. Learn the secret of gutsy guilt - how to fight like a justified sinner.
5. Realize that the battle is primarily a fight to see God for who he is.
6. Meditate on the Word of God day and night.
7. Pray earnestly and continually for open heart-eyes and an inclination for God.
8. Learn to preach to yourself rather than listen to yourself.
9. Spend time with God-saturated people who help you see God and fight the fight.
10. Be patient in the night of God's seeming absence.
11. Get the rest and exercise proper diet that your body was designed by God to have.
12. Make a proper use of God's revelation in nature.
13. Read great books about God and biographies of great saints.
14. Do the hard and loving thing for the sake of others (witness and mercy).
15. Get a global vision for the cause of Christ and pour yourself out for the unreached.
     (From 'When I Don't Desire God' by John Piper)

"I hear so many christians, murmuring about their imperfections, and their failures, and their addiction, and their shortcomings. And I see so little war! 'Murmur, murmur, murmur; why am I this way?' MAKE WAR!"

(Tedashii)
I make war

Cause sin never sleeps

It's got me in a trance

You can see it in my dreams

I make war

Man, I beat my flesh

To the death

Every breath

Like I beat my chest

I make war

Sun up

I make war

Sun down

I make war

Time in

I make war

Time out

I make war

Against lust
I make war

Against pride
I make war

Against me
I make war

Until I die

Must I choose?

People always ask what my favorite season is. I wish there was a label for each mini-transformation stage between each season, cause those are clearly the best. 

I always say winter, though, not because of the weather, but because all the best things happen in winter:

• hot chocolate
• skiing
• family hang out time
• snowflakes
• fires in the fireplace
• christmas
• sledding
• decorating cookies
• snuggling
• clementines
• wearing scarves, sweaters, mittens, boots, ear muffs...
• every glimpse out the window is awe-inspiring.

Romans 1:20

For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made, so that men are without excuse.

The best thing about creation, I think, is it's inherent and never-ending flux.
When I think about it, I know I'm the most joyful at the turn of the seasons:
When the leaves just begin changing colors and it's brisk in the mornings..
At the very first snow when the world is completely transformed...
When there are still heaps of melting ice here and there,
but tiny buds start poking up out of the frozen ground...
And when the rain and the wind of spring in Iowa take a break and we get that first cloudless, sunny morning and everybody just exhales slowly and breathes in the calm, warm summer air.


It's seeing God at work.


I thrive on change, my soul finding peace in those moments when I'm assured that life is moving on, continuing the ebb and flow, watching the earth being born and growing and dying and having new life rise out of the ashes... And the best truth of this life: in Christ, we're new creations as well.


Life's a beautiful thing, isn't it?

1 Corinthians 13

Something I've learned in my first few weeks at school: it's not actually as black and white as I'd like it to be. 

from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll:
'Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable — "'
'Found what?' said the Duck.
'Found it,' the Mouse replied rather crossly: 'of course you know what "it" means.'
'I know what "it" means well enough, when I find a thing,' said the Duck: 'it's generally a frog or a worm. The question is, what did the archbishop find?'

To "it", in this case, I might ascribe the meaning of the word "salvation", or perhaps "spiritual maturity" or "being a Christ-follower". I'm not talking about myself, here, so everyone can take a nice deep breath... I'm very secure in my salvation, my own understanding of maturity as it's described in the New Testament, and how I'm called to live my life in a way that's worthy of being labeled as a Christ-follower. But wherein lies the diction of these things? My own understanding of them comes from my life, my experiences, my education, doesn't it? And I'd like to think my understanding is as close to truth, as close to scripture as it can be...

I meet people who don't think the bible is to be taken literally, and others who would use the church as a happy, social part of life (and if at any point it doesn't fit that need, they don't hesitate to jump ship.) And I meet people who talk about loving Jesus, but not feeling a need to study scriptures or grown in their understanding of God, and still others who have all the head knowledge in the world about God and the bible, but I don't see it affecting their lives-- their actions and words and general behavior-- I don't see the change in their hearts, not even a little bit. I'm talking about the people I meet and interact with, the people around me who, like so many Americans, call themselves 'Christians' but really don't seem to be. After pondering for a few days, I've come upon the reason things seem grey:

I'm a crappy judge.

1 Samuel 16:7
"Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

There are cases, most definitely, when I can tangibly see evidence of whether or not a person has been redeemed. I gaze upon a completely misconstrued understanding of God and of the cross, or I look at the fruit of a Christian's life out of which the love of God overflows. But the thing is, I don't actually know. I only know where my own heart is; I can only be sure of my own salvation. And the people whose theology is perhaps twisted and skewed-- deviating from scriptures and what I know to be truth-- I will never truly know the condition of their hearts until I see them in heaven-- or I don't.

And I'm not here to discuss how we do or don't really know if people are saved, I'm here to talk about the practical application of my non-informedness. It breaks my heart... More than anything, I want to gush truth into these peoples' lives. I want them to see where they have erred and I want them to experience the joy of redemption and freedom in Christ, and of growing in their understanding of God. But pelting them with scripture and theology and apologetics, is that really what's best? What's most effective? What Christ would've done?
from Come Around by Jimmy Needham:
Maybe for a minute I can get back to the heart of it
Sure I've got zeal, but does love have a part in it?
Passionate words and beautiful phrases
They just don't mean much if I don't have Jesus in it

We pass out paper facts all week but they won't come around
We can debate theology but they won't come around
Apologetic reasoning, but they won't come around, come around
There's only one way they'll come
and it's love.