It is crazy how small we really are. We are just one of nine planets orbiting a medium-sized star. Our star is one in 40 billion stars in our galaxy alone, with nearly every star having at least one or two planets of its own. Our galaxy is only one of 50 billion known galaxies. One cannot dodge the question, "Are we really alone in the universe?" It is up to God to decide. But if we were all there really is, it's a big waste of space.

Saturday I graduated, went to Dylan and Tyler's graduation party (amazing pasta salad!), and relaxed at home for my own grad party. Sunday, Dylan, Ams and I ran around together, visiting Shelby and Kristen's house for their parties, eating good food, sharing laughter. Dylan left last night and my family went out to eat at Skyline Chili (not a big fan), and I saw Episode III for the second time. Excellent movie. I think the book will be good, too; it is written real well. I am wanting to read through all six this summer, but I don't know if I'll be able to do it. Today Dylan is coming over and we're going to Pat Hague's graduation party, then skipping up to the small, unknown Ohio town of Anna, to say hi to a friend of ours who graduated.

Yesterday was crazy. Graduation, graduation parties, laughter and fun, friends and family. My graduation party was yesterday, lots of people showed, but I am not going to try to list them, because I will miss someone and they may take it personally, and we'll have to sort through emotional baggage. Instead I just want to post this Scripture I found, maybe the most amazing piece of Scripture I've ever read. I find it ironic that I discovered it on the day of my graduation. Weird coincidence, eh? Well, I guess weird coincidences are redundancy.

"Everything that goes into a life of pleasing God has been miraculously given to us by getting to know, personally and intimately, the One who invited us to God. The best invitation we ever received! We were also given absolutely terrific promises to pass on to you - your tickets to participation in the life of God after you turned your back on a world corrupted by lust.

So don't lose a minute in building on what you've been given, complementing your basic faith with good character, spiritual understanding, alert discipline, passionate patience, reverent wonder, warm friendliness, and generous love, each dimension fitting into and developing the others. With these qualities active and growing in your lives, no grass will grow under your feet, no day will pass without its reward as you mature in your experience of our Master Jesus. Without these qualities you can't see what's right before you, oblivious that your old sinful life has been wiped off the books.

So, friends, confirm God's invitation to you, his choice of you. Don't put it off, do it now. Do this, and you'll have your life on a firm footing, the streets paved and the way wide open into the eternal kingdom of our Master and Savior, Jesus Christ."

- 2 Peter 1:3-11, the Message

Dallas Willard's commencement address to students at Greenville College, 2004:

Remember who you are before God. You are an unceasing spiritual being with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe. Strong currents in our society will attempt to keep you from realizing who you are before God.

Remember to keep God before your mind. Set the Lord before you. Keep Him in your mind. You can learn to do this. You can bring God before your mind constantly and train yourself to have Him there always.

Remember to live sacrificially. Don’t make it your aim to get what you want. Serve others. Remember, God gives grace to the humble. He calls us to submit ourselves to the mighty hand of God that, when the time is right, He will lift us up.

Remember you need a plan of discipline. Living the Christ life requires it. What’s normally thought of as church activities is not enough, even if you’re one of the leaders. Put together and follow a plan of solitude and silence, Scripture memorization, fasting, prayer, and worship.

If you regularly do these things, Christ will grow in you and His character will become your character. Then you will routinely and easily do the things He did and said to do out of love, joy, peace, and power.

Grandma Matlock came down last night with her cocker-spaniel puppy Tanner. It is a good feeling, being done, except for graduation. And, also, except for my Physics exam, which I leave to take in just a few moments. Graduation practice is tomorrow (oooh, what a blast), then the actual ceremony is Saturday; after the graduation is my party, where there will be cake and hot wings and other stuff (I don't really know; Mom is making it happen). If you get the chance, come on down and say hi, seven-to-nine, I think it is. I will be going by Dylan and Tyler's on Saturday, too, for their party; Angie and Ashley's party was last Sunday, and Shelby and Kristen have their party this Sunday. I have been listening to Metallica to introduce the feeling of summer. I tried to find something more sentimental but nothing else worked. Wow... Senior Year went by fast. A lot of fun, too, except for school (and work). This time next year I will be a sophomore in college and my sister will be a Senior (I can't see her as a Senior; she's always been my little sister). I am off to poop and get ready for Physics. If you have nothing else to do, swing by Saturday. Until then (or the next post), good-bye!

In my eigth grade church camp, some of the sponsors challenged us to find people in the Bible we can relate to. Lots of kids chose Jesus or Paul or Moses... I chose boring Peter. Something about the guy just has, "ANTHONY" written all over him. And as I dig into the Gospels, I see myself fitting easily in Peter's shoes. Peter always wanted to do more for God, but he didn't have the patience to do it. So headstrong yet screwing up all the time. There's me in there 100%. Passionate for God and yet stumbling every fifteen feet. I imagine the disciples looking at Peter and thinking, "Wow. What a waste of space, what a waste of God's time." The guy betrayed Jesus three times, and when Jesus pulled him to the side, the others were probably like, "Now the wrath comes down." But what is most amazing about Peter's story is actually God's story - not abandoning him, rescuing him, calling him out, admonishing him. I see myself reflected in the Peter of the Gospels - a screw-up half the time.

Yet then I look at the letters of Peter, and I see something drastically different, and I wonder, "What happened? How in the world did Peter change?" Obviously, Jesus wasn't done with Peter after the ascension. The real changes in Peter didn't take place when Jesus walked the earth, but in the years afterward, when the Holy Spirit got to work on the guy. So as I reflect on this and read 1 and 2 Peter, I am comforted by the fact that change is possible. Peter and I share this little bond, and if he can get through it despite all his hang-ups and screw-ups, then so can I. If he can experience true and radical change, so can I. There's no one too far for the grace of God to do a revamp and set them straight. Even I can experience this, and that's huge.

Lots of babies are on the way. Jeff and Mindy will be having their baby girl sometime soon, I think her name is Rain (Jeff, correct me if I am wrong). Pat, Hank and I got Mindy's baby a stuffed giraffe and we gave Minday a giraffe sculpture with an alligator head screwed on (we chopped the giraffe head off). Mindy has this insane, inescribable fascination with those four-legged, long-necked creatures. Yet Jeff and Mindy aren't the only ones blessed to be having a child. Last night at K2, Ron announced, rather sheepishly (the dude rocks), that he and Aisa were going to have a baby. Everyone thought Aisa was just getting fatter. I didn't notice because I hadn't looked at her stomach, so it all came as a real surprise to me. I told Ron that he would be a great father, just don't let his son/daughter turn out like me. I think Jeff and Ron will be awesome dads and Mindy and Aisa great moms. Their kids, I can foresee, will be the best of friends growing up; and if they're opposite sex, maybe even get married. Who knows? Weirder things have happened. Whatever happens, it's awesome how God's been blessing all those guys for all their living the Kingdom.

A day of laughter in a dozen dimensions. Pat, Hague and Ash came over after Southwest worship gathering, and we ate fat-free hot dogs and low-fat baked beans (yes, they taste wonderful; not all fat-free food sucks). We started watching a weird movie starring Harrison Ford, Blade-Runner, but stopped it to go to the Howard's for Angie and Ashley's graduation party. It was a ton of fun, eating barbecue wings and shrimp, even a little cake, throwing around a volleyball and attempting to play a game. A whole bunch of people came over afterwards: Chris, Pat, Hague, Tyler. We played Star Wars, and in a strange, twisting train of events that would take too much time to describe, I ended up swinging my wooden gladius sword through the air while running around in my boxers. K2 was fun stuff, celebrating the Seniors who were graduating (yes, I am one), tossing around stories and throwing our heads back in laughter. Jeff led us forward in some intimate worship before the Throne, where we kissed the feet of the King. Then we all signed posters for the Seniors, and some tears were shed. And someone puked and I almost slipped in it. Lots of tribal dancing to bongo music and reminiscing on the good old days. Tonight I shall go to sleep a happy man; not only because today was a good day, but because there's only two more days of school left!

Bryon, Lee, Debbie and I played basketball outside, then Debbie, Lee, Laura and I went to Dorothy Lane Market. Since it was 8:30, they didn't have any free food out, and then Lee said, "Milk in the glass tastes so much better than milk in plastic," and this sparked a discussion that led me to buying a fat free bottle of chocolate milk. I crawled inside Goldie's dog-cage and I got stuck and was afraid she would try and bite me like she did the cat when Benvolio got stuck in her cage. Lee and I balanced out either going to Applebee's or Borders, and chose Borders, because I may go to Applebee's tomorrow. I wanted to look at a Michael Savage book called, "Liberalism is a Mental Disorder." I didn't plan on buying it; I am a kind-of-liberal conservative. Laura, a pretty hardcore liberal, gave me the most evil glare when I told her about it, and then she asked if I owned a book called, "How to talk with a Liberal," or something like that, and I said, "No." After the excruciating boredom of work and home life, today turned out pretty good in some ways.

I am excited, though. Only two more days of school! This time next week my graduation party will be starting, and that night I will go to bed thankful all of the drudgery of High School is kaput. I am anxious to head off to college, to get working on a career, to make some friends, to have lots of laughs with John, and even get to know Jessica a little better. I talk to her online a lot, only seen her once or twice in person. She is Chris' girlfriend (Chris is one of my best friends, going to the concert), so Chris is pretty excited that she'll be over here in fantastical Ohio. I would also like to meet a girl at C.C.U. Hopefully my acne will be gone by now. Chant with me: "Do your job, medicine! Do your job, medicine!"

Almost all my friends are sitting in the theatre right now watching Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I almost went, but work loomed instead, and since I had Wednesday off, I went. A slow and painless day, happily. I believe this Star Wars was simply amazing, and I bought the hardcover novel today. Now I have all six hardcover, and I plan on reading through them all, straight in a row, this summer. I am not a huge Star Wars fan, but let me tell you, Star Wars is some exciting and thought-provoking (yes, thought-provoking; Dylan should know what this means) stuff. I also bought a book called The Gates of Fire, a novel on the Spartan soldiers at Thermopylae. Why doesn't anyone ever write a big, blockbuster, intense, epic Roman novel? Oh yeah - I am. It is cold in my room, Star Wars music is playing, and I think I will prepare for sleep, as I must work tomorrow. I want Psalm 16 to be the creed of my life. Read it in The Message Bible; it is really cool jazz. While you're at it, read all of the psalms in Eugene Peterson's translation. He does a really good job, brings out the emotion vividly.

Lots of questions have been finding ample time to ferment in the back of my mind, eventually growing large enough to slide to the front and cause me much havoc. Questions regarding the spiritual life; questions like, "What, exactly, is idolatry, and how do you know if you idolize something?" And, "If we are to deny ourselves, does it mean we must deny our passions - passions being, for instance, music or reading or hiking?" I know these sound like foolish questions, but they are the questions pressing upon me. If anyone has any word(s) of advice, I'd like you to pass it on to me. These have really been bugging me over the last few days.

Sunday night I held a lightsaber and brought it down upon the enemy. Monday night Mom took away my Naboo star-fighter, so I couldn't go visit my girlfriend on another planet: it made me upset. Last night I raced a Pod-racer against Sebulba the Dug, and won. The crowd went wild. Tonight I am going to have another dream, except it is going to be real. I will most likely be amidst storm-troopers and Jedi's, maybe even an ewok or a wookie. For tonight at 12:15 a.m. Dylan Yosick and I wedge in a sold-out theatre, hear the Star Wars theme song, and will be engulfed with cheering as Yoda takes on his lightsaber and the Clone War unleashes.

"Victory?" Yoda questions, eyes malignant with bitter foreknowledge. "Victory, you say? Master Obi-Wan, not victory. The shroud of the dark side has fallen. Begun, this Clone War has!"

Today has been a wonderful day. I really love the word wonderful. It really makes me smile. Pat Dewenter and Ashlie came over and Mom fixed us spaghetti. Pat and I worked outside in the toolshop making Mindy her present. We also added two decals to my replica wooden Roman sword; it is a gladius, thrusting sword, and I have made it accurate down to the nearest centimeter; we painted it gray and bronze and leather brown. After spaghetti, we trekked down to North Park, where we sat on the swings and looked up to the sky, reminescing on the good old days, when we first started hanging out, how things have changed. Pat D. remembers knowing me as the "fat albino kid with white hair," and we ended up becoming one of my best friends. Sophomore year, our quartet for roaming the park and going over to each other's houses was made up of Chris, Lee, me and Pat. Now it's Ash, Ams, me and Pat. Chris and Lee have kind of faded into the background. We don't hear much from them anymore, and it is kind of sad. I guess a lot of things will be changing soon, though, come three months from now when I am at Cincinnati Christian University.

The weather is so wonderful (there's that beautiful word again!): not too hot, not too cold; not too windy, not too still; not too cloudy, not too clear. At north park I laid out on one of the wooden picnic benches and looked up between the tree limbs, to the cerulean sky peppered with streams of misty clouds. I closed my eyes and felt the cool breeze and knew life, right then and there, was absolutely wonderful. I departed from the others and walked down the trails of Sophomore year, all alone, closing my eyes and losing myself in another time. So much has changed, and so much will continue to change. Yet right now, at 10:02 p.m., I can think of nothing better to do than to listen to soothing nature soundtracks, light incense, cross my legs and meditate. I am not meditating because I lack the patience, but the incense smoke is burning my eyes and this very computer is playing a soothing serenade called "water voices." These are the moments you wish you could freeze in time, just take a deep breath, and hold onto forever.

One of my greatest fears - definitely THE biggest fear - of going away to college is my fear of "What if I don't make any friends?" It's a universal fear. We're hardwired for relationships; the whole "made in God's image" thing all over again; the Trinity is relational to the core and so are we. There is no worse feeling than being surrounded by people - especially people your age - and yet being completely and totally alone. I reassure myself I will be fine; I have made lots of great friends: both Pats, Chris and Lee, Dylan and Tyler, Bryon; people I hang out with all the time and can easily share my stories and life and make dumb jokes with. Crucial people. I think I will be able to make more friends and keep the same I have now; after all, I'll only be thirty minutes away and I plan on coming home on the weekends. Yet I'm kind of frightened because I'm a scientifically-edged kid; I want there to be formulas for most of the stuff in life, and it's taken God to show me there are no such formulas to the most hardcore realities. So I can't just plug in the X's and Y's to friendship-making and roll out friends left and right. The last friend I made whom I really got pretty close to is Pat Hague; and I don't remember the specifics of how it happened. It just... did. And this scares me, because what if this mysterious thing called 'building friendships' finds itself lacking at college? I don't fear anything, really, except this, and I know I am not alone.

Last night was completely wonderful. Constant rain and thunder and lightning. I lay in my bed, gently tossing and turning throughout the night, listening to the thunder; and as the thunder crackled outside my two open windows, I thought, "Wow; how could anyone ever think they could go against the One who invented this and controls this, and think they can get away with it?" The rest of my day, at least at work, hasn't been saturated with such revelatory moments. Dylan and I made a GIANT cookie, but I didn't eat any of it. I also made three taquitas in the microwave but tossed them as well. All for good measure - Pat, Ams and I ate at China Village. Lots of laughter. No orange chicken this time, though; I played it lite. This is all I really have to say. Psalm 15 and 16 are breathtaking, by the way. Check them out. Reading the student edition of Renovation of the Heart, by Dallas Willard. There's only one more thing I wish to tell you. I was working at I.G.A., and this eskimo came in...

Roman warfare is not pretty. In the beginning of the Roman's siege of Jerusalem in 70 A.D. (predicted by Christ, mind you), the Romans were hurling artillery over the walls. At first they started with catapult stones; the Jewish rebels on the walls could see these coming, and would yell, "Baby on the way!" and dive for cover. The Romans realized they weren't making much progress (in other words: killing a lot of the enemy), so they painted their artillery black and started firing again. They weren't just hurling catapult stones; they also fired giant bolts from artillery weapons called ballistae and skorpions. Josephus, a historian who recorded some of the effects of the artillery, tells of seeing a man thrown a quarter of a mile away by the impact of a catapult stone. Even worse, he describes a bolt from a ballistae or skorpion that flew over the city walls and hit a pregnant woman (what the heck is she doing in the street during the Roman bombardment?); she is killed instantly, but this is the gruesome part: the bolt passed through her and tore her unborn baby out. You don't ever see this stuff in the movies, but it's how it really was. Warfare sure has changed a lot.

It is funny how things change. I opened both my windows down here anticipating storms overnight, and at 12:30 to 1:00 I slept under a veil of hard rain, lightning and thunder. It was beautiful. Four or five years ago, I would've been high-tailing it to the bathroom three or four times and praying to God electricity wouldn't race up my poop as I dropped a load and electrocute me. Thankfully, it never happened. It's not exactly a glorious and honorable death, either. Nothing exciting has happened today. School is easy, my grades are doing really good. I've been consuming the psalms, just chewing them up. You can just taste the heartache and heartbreak, the desperation and jubilation, flowing through psalmist's words; and even more, you can latch on and join in the laments and cries for help and shouts of joy. I really must do this sometime: gather Eugene Peterson's Message translation of the psalms, drive to Cox Arboretum, and just pray through as many as my heart desires as I sit amongst a gazebo enthroned in ivy, flowers petals swirling around me. God is truly romantic. He is beautiful. Hey, here's something that always works pretty well: when you want to meditate on God, play the soundtrack to A Beautiful Mind. It's really weird how contemplating God and listening to that mysterious music make such a good combination. If you don't have any of the music, just talk to me and I'll burn you a CD. Really, it's worth your while.

Today has been a day for memories. As I walk, I close my eyes and just breathe through my nose, letting all the scents of the atmosphere swarm over me. I let my mind wander, and I find that in the smells I am transported to memories of different times and places. Today I felt little again, running on the beach with my family, as I walked across the parking lot to the school; as I closed my eyes and drifted through the bottom of D Hallway next to the Home-Ec room, I was running to my bus in Junior High, intent on playing with my Star Wars toys at home and eating Mom's spaghetti for dinner. Yet again today, coming in from the storm, I closed my eyes, heard the thunder, pet Doogie, and felt like I was living back in the days when I would hear a storm approaching and run to see what the Weather Channel had to say on the subject. One day High School, even college, will be another memory to be drawn up as I walk across the streets with my eyes closed and breathing in the deep air after a quiet rain.

"Time to get up, God - get moving.
The luckless think they're Godforsaken.
They wonder why the wicked scorn God
and get away with it,
Why the wicked are so cocksure
they'll never come up for audit.

But you know all about it -
all the contempt, the abuse.
I dare to believe that the luckless
will get lucky someday in you.
You won't let them down:
orphans won't be orphans forever.

- Psalm 10:12-14, MSG

You're going to be like sheep running through a wolf pack, so don't call attention to yourselves. Be as cunning as a snake, inoffensive as a dove.

These words of Jesus kept lurking at the back of my mind through yet another day of debates in Modern Literature Class. The debates have become more and more heated, and 'gentle' yelling has ensued at times. I have been keeping a reign on my tongue, keeping quiet and unobtrusive, knowing full-well the dangers of throwing my two cents into a debate where there are no winners or losers, just people with hurt feelings and riled emotions. I do congratulate our teacher for not letting it get too out-of-hand. Today's debate was on "Gay Rights." While I have my own ideas, I didn't voice them. Another person riled the class up by saying she could never respect a pastor who was openly gay and proud about it; her reason was that homosexuality is a sin condemned over and over throughout the New Testament, it isn't a "gray" area, and those 'called out' by Christ are called to forsake their sin - including homosexuality. Our school has a lot of gays, and while I don't think any of us in that classroom are gay, we all have friends who are gay, lesbian or bi-sexual. Needless to say, we almost had a riot. Yesterday I spoke up regarding religion in schools, nothing offensive, and since everyone knew where I stood on this whole "Jesus Christ" thing, I knew that anything I said would be judged. So I played it cool and remained quiet. It is just upsetting to me how Christians can be so judgmental at times; even if what we're saying isn't judgmental in itself, our tone can convey hidden judgment and condemnation. I said regarding this very topic, "When we are condemning or judgmental or self-righteous, we are nothing at all like Christ."

A debate on abortion was the topic of the day in modern literature class a few days ago, and near the end of the class, the concept of whether someone who's been raped should be allowed to have an abortion sprung up. I am not going to use this post to throw out my views on abortion, because it's been beaten to death. I was just sitting in the back waiting for the bell when something traumatizing happened: a Christian girl said to a few girls who had been raped, "Everything happens for a reason." The message was this, and it rang clear in everyone's ears: you were raped for a reason. The girls who were raped became incensed and were silently screaming; I could see murder written over one of the girls' eyes.

The idea that everything happens for a reason is a big misunderstanding rampant in the Christian church today. I think it can be attributed to the way we make presumptions about God and such without really exploring it; twisted ideas are the product of consumerist Christianity. The plain and simple truth is, "No, not everything happens for a reason." We are given free will; we make our own decisions and are affected by others' wise and poor decisions. Can you tell me that sin happens for a reason? Or murder and rape of the innocents? No! "God has beautiful and wonderful plans for us all." Yes - but really, now, does that include sin hurting us? It is a flaw to believe that everything that happens fits into God's wonderful plans. Because while God has wonderful plans for us, Someone Else does not, and he is the author of genocide, rape, infanticide, murder. He is the author of all the horrible atrocities that fill our news screens daily. Perhaps this is the Evil One's ploy: "I will do horrible deeds, and they will think it is God's hand at work!" Those girls being raped did not happen 'for a reason'; God's wonderful plans for them - and I may sound arrogant by saying this, but please, think it through - did not include rape. But "God will make everything work out right for those who love Him" and "in the end, God's purposes will be fulfilled." It is not just bad theology, it is wicked theology, to believe that rape has a place in God's beautiful plans for us. Those who are raped need to realize they are the victims of the Evil One, and they need to turn to the One who loves them for peace and comfort. He is the only one who can make something so horrible work out for good; but just because something good comes from rape does not mean rape is a good and wonderful thing. It is horrible and sickening.

I wish I were back in that debate class so I could say something about this. With the words, "Everything happens for a reason," our hearts harden towards God, when, really, God is the only one who can heal us and make us whole. I feel deeply sorry for those girls who were raped - and sorry for the girl who made that statement. This is a big issue that, I believe, needs clarification.

Sixteen days and I am done with High School. I envy the night when I lie down in my bed, close my eyes, listen to the insects outside my basement windows, and realize that High School is truly over. Yet my life continues, and in some aspects, begins: college, career, marriage, children. It will be amazing to one day look back through my blog posts and freehand journal entries and say, "Now I'm out of college. Now I'm working on staff at a church. Now I'm married and have a daughter on the way." Or something like that. It will be a wondrous feeling, and I cannot wait. But I guess I have to.

How about this Springboro weather? It is beautiful. I am wearing short sleeves and shorts to work today. I am not even bummed about work. How can you be bummed when it is so nice outside? I will be going out to check the lot for carts many times this day. Tomorrow I work seven hours, and afterwards I will either 'commune' with Dylan Yosick or Pat Dewenter. Who can really know? Today is just a great day and I've really nothing to say. Maybe something meaningful will pop into my head at work and I can post it later.

The words of St. Cyprian in ancient Rome have followed me around all day, dredging up much thought. I've had lots of time to sift through these few words, as bagging groceries and running the cash register never requires an exponential amount of brainpower. I can't help but wonder how far we might've come from the faith of the original "Christian" church as seen in the first decades and centuries following Christ's death. It may sound heretical or even judgmental in many aspects, but I think that we've lost a lot of the genuinity that the early church held onto so hard. Can you not disagree with me? Just read the letters of the New Testament and ask yourself if their descriptions of Christians match what we see all around us today. I feel God has been pressing this upon me and it has challenged an examination of my own life countless times over (note: the moment we feel we don't need to examine ourselves and make changes is the moment we're the greatest sinners). Here are the words of St. Cyprian:

Yet in the midst of it I have found a quiet and holy people. They have discovered a joy which is a thousand times better than any pleasures of this sinful life. They are despised and persecuted, but they care not. They have overcome the world. These people, Donatus, are the Christians -- and I am one of them.

What drew this Roman to embrace the Christ in the early Roman church? He compliments it to their quietness, their holiness, their joy. And so questions - questions promting rough examinations of my own life and way of living - bombard me: What does he mean by quiet? Is it simply not talking? No, I don't think so. I am not him, of course, but I think that he is drawn to these people because they are unassuming, not loud-mouths, not whining and complaining, not gossiping; they mind their own business and go about their life. Add to this their holiness. Not only are they a serene and innocent people, but they are holy. Set apart. They live life differently, so differently that the world holds its breath, wondering what is next. How many of us, with our behavior, make the world turn its head and say, "Wait a minute? This doesn't make sense!" And how many of us, with our holiness and joy, make others shake their head and say, "These people are odd. No matter what's going on, they're happy and joyful! No matter what's going on in the world, they live their lives, worship their Christ, live their lives differently, and live life joyfully. There's truly something different in these guys!"? These questions have drawn me into close examination of my life.

I've been fascinated by monasteries for quite some time now. There's simply something amazingly beautiful about a monastery, and life in a monastery. The reverence, the awe, the intimacy with God to be discovered in such places of divine interaction. You have to admire monks, giving up everything they own - all possessions, wealth, inheritance, marriage and sex - to dedicate their lives to developing intimacy with the Creator. My newfound appreciation has drawn me to investiage monastic spiritual disciplines; I even bought a book called The Sacred Way and have completely engulfed it. I have so far practiced some of the spiritual disciplines they mention, such as silence & solitude and Lectio Divina. I plan on practicing meditation sometime soon and also am prepared to develop my own Daily Office - a system of prayers to be prayed throughout the day. I am completely mesmerized by these disciplines.

Jeff, Chris, Ash, Ams, Tyler, Kristen and I drove up Yankee to Chipotle. I pleasured myself with a chicken fajita burrito with some chips. Their salsa is quite spicy. The food is wonderful - I first treated my mouth to such delicacies a month or two ago in Kentucky with my mom, sister, aunt and grandma. Good times. The school year is winding down - fifteen days to go, isn't it hard to believe? In three and a half months, I will be out of Springboro, organizing my room at Cincinnati Christian University. I plan on returning home for the weekends, though. I am excited about college. C.C.U. is a small school, too, which I like. Now that spring is here, I am planning on starting my fiber/protein diet again - working out, pooping a lot, shedding pounds. Working out isn't too fun, but with a good book, pooping borders on ecstasy.

When a man really gives up trying to make something out of himself—a saint, or a converted sinner, …a righteous or unrighteous man… when in the fullness of tasks, questions, success or ill-hap, experiences and perplexities, a man throws himself into the arms of God… then he wakes with Christ in Gethesemane.

This quote by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, from his The Cost of Discipleship, has me in stitches. Not laughter - it's just been running over and over in my mind, fermenting. How often have I pursued God for some reason other than God Himself? I think it's really common, because I've seen it in my life and in others' as well. We pursue God because it's the "right thing to do," we've been raised to do so, maybe because we want His blessings. And I'm sure there are numerous other reasons we may pursue God for reasons other than God Himself. And when we pursue nice, lofty words like "discipleship" and "sainthood" and "righteousness," perhaps we are mistaking the chest for the treasure inside the chest.

Sometimes spiritual life can be a drag, boring and uneventful, but it isn't meant to be. It's exciting and invigorating to be in an interactive, intimate relationship with the Creator; but when we pursue Him for reasons other than He Himself, should we be surprised if we feel we're missing out on something? After all, how does a wife feel when her husband marries her for money or tax exemptions? Wow, the intimacy develops, right?

I didn't go to Prom, because I didn't ask anyone. It's the worst - wanting a girl, but there being no girl you actually want. Well. I guess I'll see what C.C.U. can draw up. I went to bed around ten o'clock and awoke at 11:55 or so to go to the After-prom at the Junior High. Dad let me take his truck, and aside from the noisy vibrations in the pedals and engine, it was a smooth ride through the darkened town. Mom was on the committee for decorating the school, and you might've seen the designs in the paper; it was decked out with a Vegas Strip look. Pretty nice, really. I came at the very beginning, and my friends Dylan and Lee did not show up for about half an hour, so I felt like the outcast kid as I strolled around. Then Lee showed up, and then Dylan, and the night went on a big uphill from there. I saw Tyler once, as well. He and Kristen went to Prom together.

It was amazing. They had Applebee's there - and it was free! Riblets all-you-can-eat! I only ate one, though. And a sugar cookie. My splurge. To satisfy further cravings, enjoy pineapple stars on a stick (I thought they took out the tough pineapple centers, but they didn't; I bit into it and juice squirted out of my mouth, I had to spit it out, and fiber became wedged in my teeth). Lee and I waltzed around, making jokes and just laughing. I won a door prize, a free Burger King meal. Being the health-nut I am, I gave Mom the ticket. She loves B.K. I hate it - used to work there. For two days.

There was this one blow-up thing where you stepped in and wind blew everywhere, and dollar bills flew all around you and you had to grab them. Lee and Dylan both made five bucks; I made two and almost knocked the thing over, twice. When Lee and I rushed through the obstacle course, I reached the top and looked around for him, couldn't see him anywhere. He came around the corner, saying, "It took off my pants! It took off my pants!" He had to re-dress and collect his keys. The greatest laughter came when I put on a velcro vest and jumped onto the velcro wall; I did so well that I got stuck and was flailing around like a fish out of water, just plastered on the wall; after about twenty seconds of struggling, the manager grabbed me and ripped me off; I hit the blow-up floor and pitched off the side. It was fun.