Chasing by I Am Alpha and Omega

Powerful song.

Sometimes I lie awake and see, How my imperfections, they run so deep, I'll close my eyes and start a prayer to You, No matter how ashamed, You meet me there, How can You love me when I won't stand beside You, You just keep chasing after me, Why do You give me grace when I have no place to keep it, You just keep chasing after me, In darker times I've tested Thee, I've run long and hard to find Your end, No matter how far or fast I go, Your always waiting to wrap your arms around me, How can You love me when I won't stand beside You, You just keep chasing after me (How can You love?) Why do You give me grace when I have no place to keep it, You just keep chasing after me (How can You love?)

Michigan

If I remember correctly, one of my earliest posts on this blog happened to be in this same cafe in the little town of Beulah, MI. Back then I talked about gaming and family and to be honest, not much has changed, besides maybe my amount of facial hair.

I've been reading a ton over this current trip:

Battle of the Labyrinth by Rick Riordian

The Last Olympian by Rick Riordian

The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordian

The Rage Against God by Peter Hitchens

The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien

The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks

The Narnian by Alan Jacobs

I'm halfway through LOTR and The Narnian, the latter being the best I've encountered all vacation. The way Jacobs constructs a narrative for a life of constant scholarship is a breath of fresh air to what I'm afraid had become to me a rather stale subject.

Reading LOTR and revisiting the life of CS Lewis hearkens me back to my early days of literature and teenagehood (today, that's a word). Back when I believed I WAS Aragorn, Legolas, or any other hero from Middle Earth. Nowadays, I can only work, study, and let my greatest exploits in life play out on Stankowski or in the Rec Center.

Yet, my early days of childhood always do seem to raise their mischievous heads on my trip to MI. My favorite high school headmaster and I decided that in light of my recent literature material to construct Minas Tirith and Helm's Deep out of sand on the beach outside our Michigan condo. Suffice to say they were resounding successes. They both stood the attack test rather well (from both human and NazGULLs) and I found the whole process very rewarding as I got to work with my hands again after a long summer of working outside.

Yet, in the end, it all seems rather comical in my opinion. Looking out over my deck at one of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen this summer, I chuckled to think how much thought and care I put into these castles of sand all week. Agonizing as it was to see those Nazgulls and beachgoers send wave after wave of deadly assaults on our poor city, it was very convicting to take a step back and take in the awesome creation that our Lord has provided us. As the stars blinked into focus after sunset, our eyes turned from blinking on the horizon to wide-eyed amazement at the heavens God has given to us. In that moment my little castles of wet sand seemed paltry compared to the greatness of this world we've received from our Lord in heaven. So much more may we enjoy the earth free from sin and death in Christ's second coming.

Complacency

Do you feel satisfied? Truly satisfied? It's the feeling that you're doing okay. There might not be any real calamities in your life right now or perhaps your relationships haven't had a hiccup in recent memory. But should we ever feel like that with God?

In Revelations 3, Laodicea is called a church of "lukewarm" people. Neither hot nor cold, Christ says that he is inclined to spit them out of his mouth. Sometimes, I feel as if my life with Christ is doing just fine, as if without Him my life would be no different. God seems to consider complacency as one of the greatest mistakes we can make. Often, I think that we believe that not being close to God or not pursuing Him is the idea of "cold" that is talked about, yet I don't consider that to be an accurate interpretation. Those that are cold are the broken people, or at least those that are living in brokenness (as we're all broken, we just aren't always willing to realize it sometimes). Living in constant brokenness is painful and perhaps a bit self-pitying but in many ways we're called to a life of pain and difficulty with Christ. In Romans 5, we're told that the full measure of such strivings is hope, and Paul later says in chapter 7 that this hope isn't found in the law of men but that this hope is found in Christ.

If we want to use the idea of the law to enunciate the concept of "lukewarm" in the American church, the Jewish traditions and mandates promoted by the leaders of the synagogue has been replaced by our politically correctedness, Sunday morning chic, and tithing 10%. I'm not saying we'd say that this is our salvation, but what is shown to be the basis of your faith? My faith for so long has been my ability to articulate my relationship with Christ and what it means to believe; all with little or no faith-centered lifestyle to back it up. This doesn't save you. Your attendance doesn't get you closer to God, that's just one of the many gifts you receive by calling yourself part of the body of Christ. Going to church won't save you, nor does missing you condemn you. Christ's blood stained onto the wood of the cross did.

And yet how do we repay Him? Maybe he gets a half an hour a day in the morning when I'm not really awake or at night when I'm not much more so. If He gets any time at all. Sometimes perhaps I'm a bit too uptight towards my own sins (as Lecrae says, "Man I really wanna come to Christ/But I gotta clean my life up first, get my sins together") to let God do the very thing he wants, receive me as a broken son in need of a father. But that's not the problem I'm concerned about because we don't really get to this point. If you do, then great, you're working through what separates you from God and you need to go to Him just as much as the lukewarm. The problem with a lukewarm Christian is that they really won't pursue either, a life on fire for Christ or a period of humility as God makes clear their sins and where they need to let Him work on their hearts.

"Ultimately, we're all dead men. Sadly, we cannot choose how but, what we can decide is how we meet that end, in order that we are remembered, as men."

How will you be remembered? I'm not talking about your friends, family, or even your eugoogolizer, but about a God who loves, and constantly knocks at the door. Why not let Him in? It's scary and it's not fun when your heavenly Father sees your crap and what makes you tick, but if anyone's going to be your greatest advocate, your Lord and Savior might by a pretty good choice. Praise God that Christ constantly sits at His right hand, interceding for us. We are not worthy.

New bands I'm listening to that are pretty awesome...

Birds & Cages by Deas Vail

Great, melodic band with some awesome piano parts to many of their songs and very deep messages with most of the lyrics.

That Was Then, This Is Now by Chasen

Solid is about all I can say about this band. They're just good all around for a Christian alternative/punk band.

Of Men and Angels by The Rocket Summer

Dude, this isn't even a group, it's one guy playing everything. I'm curious what he looks like live. His voice is weirdly high, but that doesn't really through me because he's also a great songwriter.

Going about my business

I've been taking a reprieve from much serious academic work recently. Which is a blessing, because Greek and Latin took it to me last semester. I feel great after the grades and work that I put in, but my brain was definitely fried, to say the least. So having a job in construction has been great. It allows me to work out what was missing much of last semester, which has been long periods of thought to myself. Now I do need to think a bit for mowing lawns, but after about week two it's all muscle memory.

So here we are, me having long periods of time to think and plenty of time to muse about whatever. Here goes.

-It's become increasingly true that my relationship with God is getting a serious overhaul. As I surrender more to God, He is faithful to provide. I'm ashamed to say that my day to days for a long time were not marked with any real need for a relationship. To be honest, my lone wolf tendencies have and I assume will still be something to fight when I talk with God. However, recently, I've resolved to make the fight for life itself be revolved more around coming to my Savior like a child wanting to find a true father than a wayward son to an estranged patron.

-People are so important. They allow me to have time to verbalize what ails me. Because so often when I speak with God, my words are silent and I feel like that takes away from how you deal with problems. The difficulty is that it's much harder to see the blessings in your struggles when you are given no perspective but your own. It is in these sorts of things that I have especially seen God uses people, sinful wretches just like me, to His glory.

-The very aspect of language has begun to intrigue me more and more. Perhaps it's been the veritable torture everyone assumes I've put on myself through the years of Greek and Latin, but to be honest, it's those sorts of things that truly teach me. My interest started out just wanting to know more about a period of time that fascinates me, why did such great cultures begin their rise and hit the height of their time right as Christ was about to be born? It's like the world was anticipating something wonderful about to happen. Like the excitement of a child on Christmas morning right before the presents are opened, the universe itself was gearing itself up to house it's own maker. Astonishing.

Words to live by

Redemption by August Burns Red

I trust in you for life to live, and air to breath.
Purity fills my lungs.
I no longer live in solitude.
No longer bound.
My heart beats with great devotion.
This is the start to a new beginning.
On my knees praying for mercy.
Hands raised high, humble and broken. Wanting your grace.
Wanting your security.
Memories of laying facedown, motionless, with such a hollow feeling inside.
Soon I would end this life I was living.
I am just a man with a heart and sinful hands.
I am a fallen victim.
Lord, show me the way. I ask of you Father, let my words be your words.
Let my thoughts be your thoughts.
To you, I give my praise.
Show me the way. Take me in your arms. Never let me go.
Lord, show me the way, as I give myself to you.
Never let me go.
Hold me with your everlasting love.

Beowulf Parody

Writing this tale, I have had it placed upon myself to pen the exploits of one who came long ago, in a place far, far away even. From the highest authority I take this honored commission. Harper’s band is one whose place in history will no doubt be held in highest esteem. From the chiseled men to fair ladies, individuals of such caliber are rarely found in any other section from the honored students of Missouri. Alright, well that was fun. Can we do this? Good.

In days past gone by we have all heard of the exploits of those heroes we’ve held so dear. But out of the darkness there rose one who would conquer all. Mark, Spitz’s son, bore the holy stache of Thomas Sell’s Ecks and with its help conquered the many summer nations whilst garnering for himself seven golden rings of power. However, as all great heroes, there would be one who would reach for more in the defense of hope, freedom, and all that is good in the world.

In the high hall of Eternia, a great celebration united the summer peoples. They sang praises to the arbiters of freedom and happiness everywhere. But one night, there came a roving monster whose name haunts the memories of little children everywhere. His name was Eddy van Colen and his sullen attitude was only matched by his stalker personality. He was able to bewitch a few innocent females with his skin that shined in the sunlight but as many would soon find, he was a much more serious threat than anyone would realize. As he loped through Castle Grayskull, he would frequently take three hundred females under his spell of insidious creepiness. The other champions of the summer nations were perplexed. Great men and women in their own right, yet no one would yet stand against Van Colen’s reign of tyranny. In those days there was a champion of Guilder strong of heart but much more so his torso. His abdomen stretched as long as the amber waves of grain from whence he came. He came for the rings of power, he stayed for the Cole. His name was Beofelps.

“Have you come to meet our plight, and if so for what cause?” queried the high lord of Castle Greyskull. For Beofelps was not know who this man was except from echoed rumors across the lands.

To the mighty thane, the prince answered, “My name is Beofelps, pool-breaker, and I hail from the land of millet wheat and come on command from my Guild-lord that I may rid your people of this great evil. Indeed I swam here myself with fifty coats of mail armor to prove my strength. That not being enough, I was impeded by the shrieking eels near my land of Guilder. However, having made it thus far, I am now bent on conquering this sickly menace of your people.”

With this exchange, the people of the summer nations took their places to watch the festivities, namely the passing of the flame-brand. Closely following were song and dance lauding the rich tradition of Castle Grayskull and its mighty king of old, He-Man.

He-Man was the best of men, irony ignored,

His war with Skeletor none could be bored,

Yet time hence came

For all his fame,

To burn with him, his house, his sword.

That night, all went to sleep and Beofelps took his place to await the monster Van Colen. Sure enough, the monster creeped into the high hall of Grayskull looking for his next meal of teenage girl age 13-16 preferably. Spying one, he floated over her to partake when suddenly the mighty Guilding lord rose from the bench and beset upon the pale fiend. Finding himself attacked by one who had the strength to defeat him, Van Colen went into a mad frenzy, gnawing and biting Beofelps in an attempt to break the Guilding’s death grip. In the end though, the monster’s creepiness and overly-gelled hair failed him and he felt his horrid strength ebbing away under the power harnessed by the mighty lord’s eight-pack. As they struggled on, the evil one’s arm started to snap at the elbow, his forearm went purple, and his fingers went purple. At this, the pansy demon yelped a howl of pain that echoed through Grayskull and all the land surrounding. In truth, even the heaviest sleepers in their bed chambers were awoken to the death cries of Van Colen. Yet in that moment, the monster slipped away and having left his arm behind in the vice-like hands of Beofelps, retreated across the rocky land of the ancient Hellenes, crying as he went as so many young girls he had fooled previous.

The next morning brought cries of joy from the people of Grayskull who were so happy to be rid of such an evil from their land. Beofelps, seemed to be the only one disheartened that he had allowed the beast to leave, though so mortally wounded. That day, the people had another feast celebrating their new-found freedom and sang more songs praising the achievements of Beofelps,

Beofelps, a mighty king, none will know his match!

Beofelps, our liberator, who next will he dispatch?

There be none ought,

Who carries a thought,

How Van Colen’s arm will reattach!

Yet, that very night, another atrocity would come creeping around Castle Grayskull in the form of Jolly Ingeldina. This mother of Van Colen was vengeful at the loss of her son and sought to rectify the pain she felt by seeking out the one who ended his life. Beofelps slept there with his companions, unaware another fiend stalked the night. Coming upon one of Grayskull’s great thanes, Ingeldina grabbed him and killed him. At that time, Beofelps had been away and only arrived to see the monster run off with Van Colen’s bloodied arm.

Following hot on her heels, Beofelps chased Ingeldina to her forbidden abode. There he entered, dressed in the finest armor of his clansmen. This forsaken cavern was filled with water but Beofelps entered bravely. As he entered the water, he could hear the other children of Ingeldina squirming about just beneath the surface. Whether she had born them screaming into this world or had simply adopted them from a more unfortunate family, Beofelps wasn’t sure. At that moment, he was grasped by Ingeldina with a myriad of her kind dragging the high lord down to her dreary depths. Yet, were Beofelps not so equipped as to deal with such a disparaging end, he would surely have slept the rest of eternity beneath the waves. Yet Beofelps pool-breaker was already so accustomed to the water that had Ingeldina known, she might have kept him above her dark pool. So in her lock she tried to drown the hero, with her hands she tried to squeeze from him his life-breath. Yet he tore loose and struck with his blade, Grunting, trying to spill her life-blood. Yet his blade failed him and he was forced to grab a blade of immense size, some say even bigger than he was, from ages long past. With it he struck Ingeldina down and carried Grendel’s head back to Graskull as his prize. When he returned, the lord of Castle Grayskull heaped upon Beofelps and his men many gifts. Among them, were eight golden rings given specifically to Beofelps. In this way, he overcame his ancestor and accomplished the legacy of many who walked before him.

So ends the tale of Beofelps’ journey to Grayskull. In his home of Guilder, Beofelps took his rightful place as king and reigned a lifetime. At the end of his life, Beofelps would indeed meet his nemesis. In those days, there lived a dragon named Bong who would terrorize the countryside but as of late made it his practice to sit upon his treasure trove breathing his own smoke.

However, there was a youth named Bimbo who often liked to play amongst the rock outcroppings. In a moment of misfortune, he happened upon an opening into Bong’s lair and found a small ring that glowed with red fire. Taking it for his own, he never thought that the great worm would realize its disappearance. Yet, in the morning, when Bong awoke, in its accounting the beast roared with great fury and burst from its home with a burst of flame that set Guilder aflame.

In his golden hall, Beofelps heard the dragon’s fury. Raising his now wearied head, Beofelps raised a hand to silence those near him from reaching into panic. Having seen his battle-beaten fingers held aloft, they awaited for him to break the silence with a single word. Yet none came. Silently, Beofelps, grayed and wrinkled with the passage of time, took up his sword Grunting and waited for his squire to bring forth the armor that would protect him in battle. Looking down, Beofelps beheld the youth Bimbo, his squire and the very same individual who had caused Guilder’s calamity.

“My young friend, I go to battle. What shall it be for you?”

“Till the end, my lord. I wish it need not have happened in my time.”

“Is that so? So do all who see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you. Truly, truly, I say to you, this fight shall not be your end. Nor is it even yours to undertake.”

“My lord if it is all the same to you, may I at least join you as you go out to face the fiend?”

“Bimbo, I shall not be so heartless as to dampen the fervor with which you would fight, but stay near me and my shield may guard us both. I fear I may have met an enemy to finally defeat me. Heaven knows I’ve had trouble with smoke before, this Bong may be the end of me yet.”

With that, Beofelps and Bimbo set out to face the dragon and it was not long before the monster saw them coming. With a wide breath of fire, the rock they stood upon was set alight and the two warriors of Guilder were hemmed in on all sides. As Bong took another pass, Beofelps clipped it in the leg and brought the beast crashing to the earth. However, as it righted itself the dragon came bursting over straight for the shield behind which both men stood. Though catching most of the flame-breath on his shield, Beofelps was overcome by the flames that encircled his armor. Whilst the poisonous breath closed on him, Beofelps sought the help of Bimbo to destroy the monster. Seeing his liege-lord in utter plight, Bimbo took up his sword and plunged it into the spot below the dragon’s wing, causing the great worm to cry out in pain. Seeing his squire deal such a devastating blow, Beofelps drew himself up to his full height; years and ages seemed to disappear from his countenance and his face shined anew. In that moment, the mighty Guilding took his blade and stabbed the beast down its throat, causing the dragon’s life-flame to fade into darkness.

Yet in the same moment, Beofelps’ years and wounds came rushing back and crippled the Guild-king. Catching his lord as he fell to the ground next the great monster, Bong, Bimbo cried aloud in anguish and taking him up carried the great hero back to Guilder’s capital, Mine’s Teareth. When asked what was to be done, Bimbo was firm that a great pyre would be built to commemorate the life and noble death that nothing less would have earned by a man such as Beofelps. The people mourned him as the greatest of kings and Beofelps’ memory lived on in the minds and hearts of the Guildings for years to come.

Reading:

Marcus Aurelius Meditations

John Eldredge Fathered by God

Julius Caesar Gallic Wars

I suppose that I ought to write here as it's been quite a while since I have. Primarily, my purpose is to muse on a bit of my thoughts over my holiday break from school, but also to put myself to some good use. I once heard it said that idle hands are the devil's tools. Surely, that may be the case for me in that honestly, I was ready for this break to soften me from the frustration/agonizing that I endured last semester.

Jokingly, I've blamed my dear friend Sam Kruvand for praying for God to work in his life which must surely have meant that I was implicated by my association with him. As arrogant as it may sound to "blame" someone for the fact that God worked in my life over the past few months, I think it almost human to buck the sensation of being drug through life without assenting to it. In one sense you have to laugh at this picture I've painted of myself (and to be sure, Sam and I have). Truly, I was angry at God at some point last semester, and yet in the most integral points during it, I surely felt that God was the only one capable of bearing me up through it all. Ah, what a satisfaction it is to say that I made it through all the academic/relational/emotional/spiritual struggles I have endured recently.

It seems to me such a marveling fancy that we as humans don't want to be challenged. I mean, seriously? Why not? I would say that the most highly recognized of any of us are those that have stuck it out through the life that has brought the most hardship. Many Christians talk of cliches such as "jewels in your crown" and yet I wouldn't be as confident of challenging myself and others around me was I not so confident that I'm fighting for something real. It disheartens me when I hear a non-believer voice his/her opinions against God (not my religion, my savior) for it speaks to me that this individual must have gone through so much without such a comfort afforded a son/daughter of God. However, as this pains me to hear or learn of, so much more so does it make me feel horrible when I'm close to a fellow brother or sister that doesn't endure such a closeness to God as I've seen in me and other dear friends.

For, in my opinion, a closeness to God not only bears the hope of a savior who deems us worthy of unending love but also the kind of life that brings us to a Christ-like humanity. It has been a great encouragement to spend time with my friend Gregg Webb as his faith is bent on a much greater sense of becoming more like Christ. Being Orthodox means that literally and figuratively, many traditions and views on salvation center on becoming more like Christ. So often, I have felt that my preconceptions as an Evangelical (especially in America) mean that much of my faith focuses on all that affords me attributing myself to the Christian religion, not Christ himself.

If we are to be effective leaders in this world, Christians must be committed to striving after a Biblical-Christian model of living that is evident in every avenue of observation. This is not merely calling out to the pastors, the elders, deacons, missonaries, Christian counselors, and Bible study leaders; this represents a declaration to every Christian that takes up social space in their community. No matter where we go, we ought be salt and light. Salt to preserve this world for when Christ comes to redeem it and light to shine where God's word has never been spoken.