Ams' Graduation

I returned home Friday evening to be with my family and friends during Amanda's graduation. On Friday night Ams had her graduation party: lots of good food and good people. It was nice to see many of my friends again, and it was fun spending time with our relatives who spent the night (whom I had not seen since Christmas). On Saturday, a bunch of us went to a house on Bunnell Hill and explored. We're thinking about buying this house and selling our current one. It has an abandoned walk-in trailer in the woods, which I plan on renovating and making a reading lounge if we end up buying the place. Amanda and I went to Lenscrafters to order new contacts, Best Buy for some CD-Rs, and we stopped by C.V.S. so I could get some pens for camp. Last evening at 5:00, Ams had her graduation ceremony. She was so frightened, afraid that she would trip getting her diploma. "I would have cried," she told me. My aunt said, "Well, just looked over at us, and we would have all been laughing!" All of us ate out at Marion's Pizza near the Fairfield Commons after the ceremony, then most of our extended family left (grandma's staying the week because Amanda is getting her tonsils out on Monday).

Amanda and I are eating out at China Cottage at 11:00. Following that, I'm going to drop her off back home and begin my long trek back to camp. I won't get there until about 5:00, sadly, so I will probably not be able to go swimming in the pond today. Nevertheless, our training ends Thursday, and I don't start my first week of camp till next Monday, so I have a three-day weekend and plan on visiting the pond a few times. Kyle likes it when I dive into the pond off the dock. He says I look like a penguin, ha!

While at camp, I am unable to access blogger. However, I can still access xanga. So I am rerouting all my readers to the following address: http://www.xanga.com/ajbarnhart. Or you can just go to the top of the page and click on the "xanga" tab beneath the heading. Whichever is easier for you.

an entry from camp

I’ve been at camp now for several days. I made the five-hour trip last Sunday. Kyle and I hung out Sunday night and Monday afternoon, then Amos showed up Monday evening. We went swimming in a pond longer than a football field (and Amos and I swam the full length for fun, and it was exhausting). We’ve spent the last several days getting to know each other (we = the staff for camp this summer). Tom and Karen are in charge, Bucci is underneath them, and the counselors are me, Kyle, and Amos (for the guys), and Emily, Elizabeth, Jessica, and Margie. There has been a lot of laughter and it’s been really fun.

We’ve been spending a lot of time with God, which makes sense, since this is a church camp. It is good that I have been, so-to-speak, “forced” into spending time with God. It’s quite refreshing. I am exploring different types of prayer (for prayer is difficult for me), and I am meditating on scripture throughout the day. I believe this summer is going to be really good.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I feel like a sort of “transition” has been reached in my life, and now my life is going in a different direction. I am contemplating youth ministry again. I am clueless about the future (in all arenas), but I trust that God knows what He is doing. I entered into a dark spell, a chasm of sorts in my intimacy with God, and I feel like things are beginning to go uphill again. It’s a good feeling.

I am wrestling with some deep issues in my life. Confusion. Bewilderment. Trying to trust God in a certain area of my life. We went to Pittsburg yesterday and walked a labyrinth. The whole time I prayed about this one issue. I am praying for guidance and illumination. Seeking what God wants me to do and trying to remember that God knows what He is doing with me—and that He will fulfill the promises He made to me many months and months ago.

My little sister is going through a hard time. Keep her in your prayers, please!

a parable

There once was a penguin. His name was Bert. Bert lived on an iceberg. His only friend was a Walrus named Edward. One day Bert felt the temperatures getting warmer. Edward would often swim the waters, and so Bert asked the walrus if the weather was indeed getting warmer. Edward said, “No, it is not getting warm at all!” So Bert didn’t worry about it. He kept sensing the weather getting warmer, and he continued asking Edward about it. Edward kept telling him everything was fine. Bert believed him. One day Bert noticed that the edges of the iceberg seemed smaller. Edward swam by, and Bert asked him about it: “Does my iceberg look smaller to you?” Edward denied this. Bert said, “Okay. I trust you. You wouldn’t deceive me. You are my friend. If it were shrinking, you would tell me, wouldn’t you? Because I would want to swim to another iceberg.” Edward said, “Don’t worry. Everything is fine!” So Bert believed him. Edward stopped swimming by. Bert noticed that the iceberg was indeed shrinking, so he leapt off the iceberg and began swimming for another iceberg. But he found no more icebergs. His iceberg had drifted south hundreds of miles, and he grew tired. Eventually a sea lion came by and ate him. His blood turned the water red and orcas dined on his remains.

i leave tomorrow... err, today!

So it's 1:15 in the morning, and I should probably go to bed soon: I am teaching a class on servanthood tomorrow for the high school students at Southwest (I would call them high school "kids" but I am no less a kid than they are), and I am making the 5-hour trek to Burghill, Ohio to start camp training. I'm really excited. It'll be good to see Kyle and Amos--and get out of this rut of monotony by actually doing something. Amanda's graduation party is this coming Friday, and I'm leaving camp at noon to make it there by 5:00. I head back Sunday afternoon (the ceremony is Saturday at 5:00, the Nutter Center).

Courtney is deathly ill: she's anemic and has a sinus infection. They're going to be doing surgery on her soon. She's been ridden with sickness for nearly two weeks. My heart breaks for her. We broke up today. It was more of a mutual thing. See, we'd taken a "break" but gotten back together. But the problem was, we didn't deal with our issues. We just went on the steam of liking one another. I love this girl, and she loves me, but right now we can't be in a relationship. So this time we're actually going to take a break for real (it will be hard for me to see her when I am five hours away). We're on really good terms. We were texting back and forth on the phone today about the most random stuff and she was cracking me up. She's hilarious.

I'm excited about this summer. Not just working with kids and being around some of my best friends, but being in an atmosphere conducive to helping deepen my richness with God. I'm really excited about it. I will be stretched, tested, and I will be forced to grow. I'm hoping to come out of it a new person. I'm hoping to find direction for my life. We'll see if that actually happens! So far, the said direction seems fleeting.

All right. I'm starving. I'm going to eat a bologna sandwich and then hit the hay.

my evolving theology

The other night, as I stood out on the deck, looking at the moon, I thought about my evolving theology. Before I started school at Cincinnati Christian University, I wrote a treatise of my theological beliefs called "the forgotten message." Many of my views since then have changed. Not because I have better schooling or a widened vocabulary when it comes to theological ideas and thoughts, but because of my life experiences. Our life experiences shape our theology. One's biblical theology, you could say, flows from his or her interpretation of the biblical texts. Yet no interpretation of the biblical texts goes without the influences of one's culture, values, and personal biases. Our life experiences also have a profound influence on how we read and interpret the biblical texts. When I was suicidally depressed, much of my theology evolved and transformed. It's nothing I'm ashamed of. It's how these things go. Yet one of the most profitable evolving theologies I underwent was the transformation of my perspective on God's character. I had viewed God, subconsciously, as One who searches us inside-out for any faults and then punishes us by taking away what we truly desire. This was the perspective I had when Julie broke up with me. Over the past few months, propelled by my depression, I came to a new understanding of God's character: He is a God of Love and a God of Grace. As the Apostle Paul puts it, God's abounding grace far exceeds our abounding sin.

contemplations...

Sometimes I feel as if my life is a waste.

I look at my life, and all I see is failure. I see mistakes I’ve made, am making, and mistakes I probably will make. I see where I have fallen without seeing where I’ve picked myself up. I see all the ugliness and wretchedness of what I’ve done and who I’ve been. I see my selfishness, my greed, my indifference. I look at my life and wonder, “How is my presence on this earth a blessing?”

What have I accomplished that is truly worthwhile?
What have I done that has made an impact in our world?
Who have I been to leave behind a cherished legacy?

I want to accomplish something magnificent, but it seems so far out of reach. I want to make an impact in the world, but it seems impossible—making an impact in one person’s life is difficult enough! I want to be remembered as someone special, someone unique… but how different am I from most people in our world?

I wish I were so much different.
I wish I could make a difference.
I wish I could do something to make an impact.
I wish people would know my name and cherish it like gold.
(Is this just my own selfishness? Or my own grasp for meaning?)

I can’t help but looking at the past two years of my life. So much has changed. I’m not who I was before. I feel stuck in a rut, unable to escape. Yet in my heart there is a burning desire to be different. A “difference” not so much in actions or ideas or anything of that nature, but a difference in the core of my being. I want to be remembered as someone who was passionate, sincere, caring, compassionate, loving, tender, kind, yet someone not afraid to speak the truth and unafraid to be himself.

“But who am I?”
Sometimes I wonder if I even know who I am.
I know my quirks, my downfalls, my strengths and weaknesses.
But who am I really, under the skin?
Who am I? Who was I? Who have I become?
Who will I become?

I have an image of myself. It is an image where I am standing behind a pulpit, speaking passionately, so passionate that tears stream down my face. I see people coming from all around to just hear me speak. I see people speaking of my love, my care, my devotion, my warm and welcoming heart. Yet above all, I see a quaint, yellow-painted cottage, with a walk-around porch and a hanging garden. I see a swing on the porch, and on that swing, I sit with my wife, my arm wrapped around her. We drink cold lemonade and watch our children play in the yard, the sun gently setting, its dying light caressing our faces as we smile at one another and kiss.

That is who I want to become. That is who I want to be.

Come to think of it... my life doesn't have to be a waste, after all.

yet another excerpt...

The road continued to wind its way through the hills. The scenery never changed. Bags formed under Lárien’s eyes; she began to nod off, the gentle rocking of her ride drawing her towards sleep. Once she nearly fell off the pony; Eärendur, riding beside her, put his arm out and put her aright. She had smiled, a weak smile laden with weariness. Now he rode beside her, in case she were to fall again. The sun began to slowly set, far to the west, its light dancing over the curving buttresses alight with waving grasses. They passed an abandoned cart full of spoiled fruit. The occasion made them hungry, and they stopped to eat a quick supper before heading out once more. Eärendur planned on stopping once the sun fell. The road wound around a hill and rose up another; along the road were several ivy-draped trees, their gnarled limbs casting silhouettes against the bright orange sun slipping away. The moon began to shimmer above them, stray clouds passing over; a few stars began to shine, the brighter ones first, then the dimmer. Constellations came into view.

Cresting the hill, Eärendur saw the road go down the hill and pass over a small ravine cut through twin hills, a small creek running through it. “We’ll sleep there tonight,” he said.

They tied their ponies to lifeless trees overhanging the bank. Eärendur went through a bag and unrolled several blankets, handing them to Lárien. They laid them out beside the rocks and lied down. Lárien wrapped her arms around Eärendur as he pulled a woolen blanket over them. She kissed his neck sweetly and closed her eyes. Eärendur laid there, staring at the mosaic of twinkling stars above, listening to the gurgling creek.

He had though Lárien had fallen asleep, but then she spoke: “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “My mind was… vacant. I’m tired.”

“Do you know what I was thinking?”

He turned his head, grinned at her transcendent profile. “Please enlighten me.”

“I was thinking, ‘This is nice.’ Laying here. With you. Beside this creek. Under a canopy of stars. We don’t see the stars much at home… I mean, where home used to be. But here… They’re… indescribable. And I was thinking that one day, we’ll have a nice little cottage beside a creek just like this, and we can lay out under the stars together. Every night.” She took up his hand under the covers and squeezed. “Does that sound nice to you?”

He kissed her sweetly on the forehead. “’Nice’? No, not ‘nice.’ Wonderful.”

She squeezed him tight. “I think we’re at the beginning of something good, Eärendur.”

“Me too,” he said, his heart leaping with joy at her words. “Me too.”