snow day!

We got Friday off school--that was awesome (how come every snow-day we have is a day when I havta work?). So I went in to work, and it turns out my two companions were shifted to different positions, and I ran all four of the lines. We were packed--Superbowl Sunday weekend--and my feet screamed in agony. I had to stay later than I was scheduled. Then I slept over at friends' house, watched Bad Boys II, woke up, lost my keys, finally went back into work and slaved for another day. Needless to say I am exhausted. The balls of my feet are killing me. But I'm surprisingly happy--chilling at home with a frosted glass of milk, some ice cream, and hanging with friends.

Ah, the simple life...

on real success

I've been reading James, and two days ago I read James 1:10,11, and it struck a chord:

"And those who are rich should be glad, for God has humbled them. They will fade away like a flower in the field. The hot sun rises and dries up the grass; the flower withers, and its beauty fades away. So also, wealthy people will fade away with all of their achievments." James 1:10,11

Lots of people have a skewed perception of what success really is. Success isn't about winning awards, getting a high-paying job, having a family, lots of friends, or becoming famous. All such achievments will fade away in the end. Real success is knowing God personally, and living a life in fellowship with him. Real success is accepting Jesus and jumping into the river, the river Jesus. Lots of people see success as determined by how much money you have, how popular you are, measly stuff like that. Stuff on the outside--God looks on the inside, at what's in the heart. So success isn't wealth, having lots of stuff, receiving awards and creating beautiful achievments. Success is loving God with all your heart, mind and soul, and loving your neighbor as yourself--a walk with Jesus and abiding in Jesus. REAL LIFE.

If anyone says that wealth and popularity and fame are the things that step us up on God's love ladder (don't you know that God's love is unconditional?), then what about all those poor people who really know what it's like to LIVE because they have JESUS? What about those villagers who have nothing of worldly value, haven't even read a Bible, but only hear the truth from traveling missionaries? What about all those people who struggle for life, falling and getting up, and have nothing to show for it, except for the love of Jesus that radiates from their hearts? If wealth and materialism were the answer, why did God choose fishermen and a tax collector to be his 12 Apostles (11, if you scratch Judas Iscariot). Why did God choose David to lead a nation, when he was a mere, young shepherd boy? Why did God choose Paul to take the news of Christ to the Gentiles, when he was a part-time tent-maker? Why did he choose Moses to lead His people out of Egypt, when Moses was just an abandoned slave boy? Why did he choose Noah to build the Ark, who was a farmer?

God looks on the inside, not the outside--he looks at what really matters.

Success is about a relationship with Jesus--nothing more.

an odd day in taiwan

C:\My Documents\My Pictures\blog
The whale died on a beach Jan. 17. Due to decomposition, the whale's organs burst from its belly on the way to a laboratory. The decomposing remains of a 66-ton sperm whale exploded on a busy Taiwan street, showering nearby cars and shops with blood and organs and stopping traffic for hours, local newspapers said. The 56-foot dead whale had been on a truck headed for an autopsy at a university earlier this week, when gases from internal decay caused its entrails to explode in the southern city of Tainan. The whale had died after it was beached on the southwestern coast of the island.

sledding '04

Since it's been snowing a lot, my friends and I decided to hit the slopes near our house, a small wooded area known as the North Park "line of trees." The first hill was covered with icy bumps, but didn't hurt me because I went down on a hard plastic sled; the hill bellied out into a creek, iced over from the snow and cold. I bailed out just in time, but my sled went flying into the water. The next time I went down that hill I hit a tree, but had slowed myself down enough so that I didn't get the wind knocked out of me. One of my friends, Jason (name changed), went once, on one of those sheet sleds, and he nearly crashed into the stairs leading down from a gazebo. We went into the woods, and hit a hill there. Jason went down a few times; as the entire trail down the slope was drenched with sheets of ice, the ride was unpredictable. Jason decided to go down skeleton-style (bad move), and at the last moment, as me and Don (name changed) readied to stop him from flying into the creek, the sled shifted, and a tree got him right in the ball; the board flew out from under him and rocketed into the woods. Don and I were dying laughing. When I went down, my left leg dangled, and it hit a tree; the sled swung around, and I was thrown off, rolling; the board lodged in a thicket. We went down together on a larger hill, going twenty miles an hour, and we barely missed hitting a tree; Jason's leg was grazed with the sharp ice stuck to the tree's bark; Don was going to try and stop us, and he ran out to stop us as we slid towards the tree, but he saw the tree and backed off. He stinks at stopping our sleds before they go into the trees (Jason abandoned me once and I flew into the woods, barely missing the freezing creek).

It's been a while since I've been sledding, but it was a fun time. Some things you never outgrow. I know people who refuse to do stuff like sledding because it's "immature". What a crock. A lot of times "immature" things are the funnest things to do. I can't believe how some people refuse to have fun simply because they want to look mature before the world. A Dennis the Menace cartoon clip hangs next to my closet, and it shows Dennis whispering to his friend, after seeing Margaret acting "mature", "Margaret says she's got MATURITY... I sure hope we never catch it!" Gotta hand it to good ol' Dennis, he's got it figured out.

[2/5/13: "Why the hell am I changing everyone's names?"]

how far would I go?

Got a forwarded email a couple weeks ago that I haven't forgotten. We've all been asked that deep question, "Would you die for Jesus?" and I imagine most people--just like me--answer, "Yes," without really thinking about it. That's the obvious answer for any Christian. But lately I've thought about it much deeper than that, asking myself, "How far would I go?" To die is one thing; torture is another. I don't know how strong my will would be under torture, I have to admit. But I've never encountered torture for Christ (unless having your hair pulled until your scalp bleeds, and being bashed in the face with a book-end is torture, I don't know). How far would I go? God gives us strength in times of trouble, and he won't let us endure anything we can't handle--we can all handle temptation, the troubles and trials, and even going as far as deciding between living and dying (in a physical sense) for Jesus. The deciding force, though, isn't CAN we, but WILL we? It's a question of willpower. How far are we willing to go for Jesus, when all pressupositions are stripped away, when our future rests on that decision?

In the middle of a church service, several gunmen entered the congregation, took over the microphone, and said, "Anyone who doesn't wish to die for Jesus, leave now." Slowly at first--then faster--people stood and ran from the room, until only a handful of people remained. The pastor stood ashen-faced behind the gunmen; the lead gunman turned, lowered his gun, and said, "All the hypocrites are gone. Now you can continue with your sermon." And the gunmen left, leaving those who had remained sitting in stunned silence.

How far would I go for Jesus?
How far would you go for Jesus?

joyous temptation?

Well we had our first snow day yesterday. That was fun. But when I went to bed, I just wanted more. Funny how that is, eh? No matter how much we get, no matter how many blessings we receive, we want more. People are greedy.

I've been reading James, and I have to say, it's amazing. When I wake up in the morning, I dread temptation, because I know how terrible and painful it is to deal with--I sympathize with those who are struggling with overcoming drug addictions, I suspect--in some ways--not giving into temptation and going through withdrawal are somewhat alike. I always feared the coming of temptation; a lot of times it is horribly strong, so strong I sometimes see spots before my eyes and go weak. So, nonetheless, I relucantly walked into the day, knowing--sometime, somewhere--temptation would hit.

Then I read James 1:2,3--"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance."

I think we should see temptation not in its darkness, but its light. Instead of thinking, "Oh, great, temptation, just what I need," we need to say, "Awesome! Temptation! I can fight against it, and I can win, and produce endurance, endurance, and my faith will grow stronger!" Maybe not view it so energetically, but definitely see it in a new light--if it was so horrible, would God allow us--the ones he loves--to be tempted? No! But he gives us what we can handle, and knows that if we fight, we can draw closer to Him through the battles and victories. Instead of viewing temptation with a dreaded reluctance, I should be cautious and wary, and yet when the temptation comes, be joyful, for if I fight and win, my faith will grow stronger.

Just something that's been on my mind...

Week 4

M.L.K. Day. I woke cold and uncomfortable on Chris' floor and was unable to fall back asleep thanks to Hank, Pat and Lee snoring. I was bored so I left. Mom, Dad and I went to Frisch's and got their buffet for breakfast. Mom asked, "What're your dreams for life?" I answered, "Live in a small home, have a steady job, live a simple life." Modest hopes for a modest man. Chris and Pat D. came over, and we watched Office Space again, burned incense and chilled. Bryon came over, but then left to go to Rooster's. Jeremy's dating a girl named Stephanie he met in Iraq. Pretty awesome. It was hot in my room so Chris and I stuck our legs out my window. It was snowing all day, but not sticking. Pat D. accidentally spilled soda all over Chris. I lost a dollar when I didn't beat Chris at NHL Hockey. We decided to go to the Williams', and we all loaded into the Jeep and Pat D. confessed, "You're one of my best friends. Always there for me, helping me out, caring, being there to talk to--thanks, Man." It would've been a precious moment were it not for Chris continually hitting me on the back of my head. Halfway to his place I pulled the car over and turned around in the seat and told him that for each time he hit me in the head from that point, I would stop the car for ten minutes on the side of the road. He knew I was serious, and he stopped. 

Tuesday. I had a huge headache all during school. I'm considering the Teacher Academy at the Warren County Career Center. Chemistry was excruciating, and Accounting was torture. Mike Box wrote on his blog that he committed each of the seven deadly sins at least once a day. He isn't alone. I spent the evening listening to music and praying. I'm a simple man, I like simple music, and it doesn't take much to make me smile. I'm madly in love with God.

Wednesday. Art was boring, and lunch was uneventful: spicy chicken fajitas. Study Hall was packed. In accounting class we did our W-2 and W-4 forms. I wonder if I'll get money back? I hope so. After work Pat D., Lee, and Bryon came over. Bryon almost did a U-turn out of the Farmer's Market intersection, and had he done it he would've killed us all. Pat D. got us pizza from Dominoe's, and I picked it up. Bryon learned I Can Only Imagine on guitar, and Dewenter's addicted to Battlefield 1942. I finished my English and Geometry homework before bed. I'm listening to Led Zeppelin and thinking about Rikki. Oh, how I want a girlfriend to spend time with, to be connected to--how I want to be wanted!

Thursday. Doug says I'm passionate, inquisitive, and recklessly daring. Last night I dreamt that Chris was smoking pot while we were hunting Jaws in a lake, and we got lost so we were asking a ghost for directions. I made a joke to Zach that he turned on his sister Kristen, and her face was one of shock, with wide eyes and a scared voice. My heart wept. I'm very sensitive to the feelings of others. She said "Bye" to me as we split up in the parking lot. She is very beautiful. I said "Bye" over my shoulder and rushed off to a Dentist appointment. I read some more of Heavier than Heaven in the waiting room, and after my appointment I went on a cold and lonesome walk through North Park. Before bed I hung out with Ams and we listened to A Perfect Circle, and I talked to Macey from "The Old Days" for a while. I don't like her anymore, but I like being carried back to a time before Kristen. Macey has a problem with cussing and drinking, as she says on her blog. ["Who the hell is Macey? I literally have NO recollection of her."]

Friday. Right after school I ran off to work 3-8:00 at I.G.A. I came home on my break, found out that Kristen's been spreading rumors about me being a "fake Christian" through 412. Mike's been giving me a hard time, too, just because I questioned whether or not baptism is needed for salvation. It's hard to get closer to God when everyone scrutinizes, condemns, and judges you. It's also hard when Christian friends betray you and turn you black as demon's blood before the church. I just wish I could start all over, make amends, break the trend, offend my friends and not back away from the truth. Maybe I should just abandon 412 and all those people there, except the ones I actually really like. But where else would I go? Mike seems to think I'm blowing things out of proportion.

Saturday. It was a funny, odd, whimsical day. I started out boring, with a 9-3:00 shift at I.G.A. (paradise compared to my former place of employment, Burger King). I went over to Chris & Lee's, and Bryon swung by later. Pat D. was there, too. When Bryon left we went to my place because Pat D. wanted to play BF1942. I went down to the basement to grab my WW2 memorabilia from Aunt Teri, and when I was in the crawlspace Chris shut the door on me. I turned off the lights and put a The Party's Here! sign by the closed entrance with two naked G.I. Joe dolls. I went and hid, and Chris opened the door and burst out laughing. He couldn't see me, and Amanda and Lee were there, prodding him inside (Pat D. was still playing on the computer up in my room). Chris reluctantly entered the crawlspace. Fearing I would attack, he grabbed an old man's cane and came towards me in the darkness, swinging the cane and fumbling for the light. The cane got too close for comfort, so I grabbed the cane's tip and yanked. Chris screamed and fell forward, and in the thin light coming from the crawlspace door where Ams and Lee were perched, I could see gouges of flesh hewn from Chris' fingers. It was bleeding pretty bad, and we crawled out laughing. Ams bandaged it up, but it wouldn't stop bleeding no matter the number of band-aids. We took him and Pat D. to church for church band setup. Lee and I went back home for an hour and a half, and at 9:00 Chris and Pat D. returned. Chris' wound was still bleeding, and he had to get stitches. His mom came to the house, and the three of us went to Sycamore Hospital. The lady at the desk asked Chris what happened, and he told her, and she asked him if there was a history of me abusing him. He looked at me and I grimaced and shook my head, and he whimpered, "No..." The lady was irritated, but it was hilarious. Some guy who'd been shot in the head was there, and in the room next to us some guy died of a heart attack while Chris was jokingly playing with the chest paddles. Chris finally got his stitches, and it was 1:30 AM by the time we got out of there. Debbie took us by Taco Bell, and I spent the night at the Williams', curled up on Lee's floor.

Sunday. I helped Brian out with the kids' J.A.M. Some kid named Craig kept bad-mouthing Christians and Christian worship. Blair yelled at him to stop. I sat down during worship and got lots of weird looks. I sat down because I was up super late and was tired, why in the world is that such an awful thing? Bryon, Corey and I talked some more about our frustrations with 412, and we want to get together with Jeff to talk to him about some of these things. Dad's truck is broken, and Pat D. broke off my Jeep's rear-view mirror. Snow fell all day in torrents, and Chris, Lee, Pat D. and I spent the day inside. Debbie didn't like the snow, so she came and picked up Chris and Lee. Dad told me that I need to keep my Jeep clean so that girls would want to ride in it. But I know girls don't want me, I'm just too distasteful. Almost eight inches of snow fell, and Doug & Edna came by and picked up Pat D., took him home. I got depressed and ate a lot. Franklin is off school tomorr,w and so is Ridgeville, Centerville, and Middletown. But Springboro still has to go? Nope! They just changed it: we have a snow day tomorrow!

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