Twilight Journey

Happy Valentine's Day To Ben

2009-02-14T07:31:00.003-06:00

Trust me, I have not earn'd your dear rebuke,
I love, as you would have me, God the most;
Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost,
Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless look
Unready to forego what I forsook;
This say I, having counted up the cost,
This, though I be the feeblest of God's host,
The sorriest sheep Christ shepherds with His crook.
Yet while I love my God the most, I deem
That I can never love you overmuch;
I love Him more, so let me love you too;
Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such
I cannot love you if I love not Him,
I cannot love Him if I love not you.
- Christina Rosetti

Year in Review 2008

2009-01-01T12:01:00.005-06:00

Wow, what a year it has been. The video sums up the biggest and most important part of the new year which is the birth of Judah and the amazing support and love of our families through every twist and turn. I look back and seem to barely recall a life before Judah, his birth ushered in a new era of life for us, but at the same time it often seems like He was always here with us.

It's been a year of ups and downs as well, but more importantly I think its been a year that has spoken of the love of our families for us and the faithfulness of God. From the uncertainty at Judah's birth to my position being "reduced" in October, we've made it; learning and growing along the way. Judah is healthy and growing (faster then I could imagine), taking his very first steps the day after Christmas at 8 months old. We've also made it through the brief time of unemployment with a job offer that I am truly excited about.

So, it's been a busy year filled with our child, home improvements, jobs, hopes, adventures, and trials. I wouldn't change a thing. God has been good to us.

With that, I leave you with a list of all the Letters to Judah Rachel wrote this year:
2 Months
3 Months
4 Months
5 Months
6 Months

Oh, and when we found out Judah was a rebel.

Happy New Year everyone!

A glimpse into Ben

2008-12-16T07:46:00.016-06:00

How well do I know my other half? This was fun. Ben, hope you enjoy this!

1. He’s sitting in front of the TV: what is on the screen?
If it's Saturday morning and he's holding Judah, you can bet Spectacular Spiderman is on. We watch tons of things together on Netflix - The Office, CSI, Heroes, etc.

2. You’re out to eat. What kind of dressing does he get on his salad?
Balsamic vinaigrette.

3. What is one food he doesn’t like?
Celery. In any form or in anything.

4. You go out to the bar. What does he order?
Maybe Guinness. Could be lots of things though.

5. Where did he go to high school?
Owasso High School.

6. What size shoe does he wear?
Big Ben with the Big Feet wears a size 16 in tennis shoes and most recently bought a 13 in dress shoes.

7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be?
Comic books, wine bottles, movie posters and whatever TV series is our current obsession. Right now he really wants the Stargate series on DVD.

8. What is his favorite type of sandwich?
Not a huge sandwich guy, really not sure here. Anything with lots of crunchy veggies and flavor.

9. What would the Husband eat every day if he could?
Breakfast foods - eggs and fried potatoes.

10. What is his favorite cereal?
Grapenuts

11. What would he never wear?
Workout pants tucked into your socks, Pop Pop style (my dad). Probably a sweater vest also, if I have any say in it.

12. What is his favorite sports team?
I dunno, the Vikings maybe?

13. Who is his best friend?
Me, of course. He has several close guy friends.

14. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn’t do?
Leave the back door open when I'm carrying in groceries.

15. How many states has he lived in?
Florida, North Carolina, Kansas, and Oklahoma.

16. What is his heritage?
Italian and Spanish (i.e. tall, dark and handsome)

17. You bake him a cake for his birthday; what kind?
German chocolate

18. Did he play sports in high school?
He was recruited for wrestling and football, but didn't play either

19. What could he spend hours doing?
Playing video games, baking bread

Favorite Movie Scenes: Part III

2008-12-13T11:18:00.003-06:00

That's what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown

Given a year where there is much turmoil, real, imaginary or exaggerated, it's a good thing to remember what Christmas is all about. It's a good time of year to be thankful for the many blessing in our lives instead of the things we don't have or can't afford. I think we'll all be happier in the end if we do.

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." John 1:14

A Carrot? Come on!

2008-11-18T07:25:00.002-06:00

I didn't believe Ben when he said this guy was playing a carrot. See for yourself and be amazed.

A Letter to Judah: 6 Months Old

2008-11-02T15:00:00.004-06:00

Hey Little Buddy!

Six months have come and gone, and here we are. I think that you simply can't get any cuter or more adorable, but of course every day you do!

You are becoming more mobile all the time and you bubble with personality! Sitting up is a breeze now and in the past few days you have managed to scoot forward on your tummy, "army crawling" as it is called. Not only that, but you can walk and practically run if we stand behind and help you balance by holding your arms or hands. This new skill is because of your baby walker that you use in the kitchen, enabling you to access many dangerous and fun things, like the hot oven, the open freezer, fridge, and dishwasher, and the coffee cups (until Daddy moved them!).

On the morning of October 21, your six month birthday, we had banana pancakes and sang "Happy Birthday". Such fun! We also had another pancake party this month, Pop Pop's 75th birthday. Daddy made him the number 75 in pancakes (he's such a talented guy!) and we enjoyed a fun brunch together before Pop Pop and Grandmother left for their mission trip to Honduras.

Our family took a vacation of sorts this month when we house-sat in Owasso. Your other grandparents went on vacation to Colorado, so we stayed and watched the dog Ranger, whom you absolutely adore. We laughed as you shrieked in glee whenever he meandered into the room and prevented you from eating his fur that you pulled out. Poor dog!

Another event this month was your first "real" sickness. You spiked a fever one afternoon and woke up every few hours that night crying. I took you to see Dr. Narrin. Turns out your throat was very red and swollen (she thought you might have strep, but you didn't). It was so sad to see you cry every time you swallowed and not want to nurse or eat anything because your throat hurt so bad. But the very next day you were feeling so much better and were back to your happy, smiling self.

All 3 of us went to a "White Trash" party at Jennifer and Keith's house recently. We dressed you up as a little white trash baby (we're crazy, aren't we?) by creating a wife-beater out of an old onesie. They served macaroni and cheese and had store-brand drinks on ice in a tire. :)

We went to another wedding (Well, a reception anyways.) Ryan's sister Amy got married on the beach and had a reception at her church in Tulsa. You looked incredibly handsome in your black turtleneck and corduroy pants and so many people doted on you!

I can't believe how fast you are changing and growing up. I get sentimental about those days when you were a newborn, so small and cuddly. But I wouldn't trade now for anything. Your precious baby babbling that you do every morning when you wake up is a sound that I treasure and your screams (yes, screams) of pure happiness melt my heart.

We had visitors this month! Aunt Karen and Cousin Lauren came for a few nights. Lauren couldn't get enough of "Baby Joo-dah" and was your constant playmate while she was here. She announced "look! We have a baby!" to everyone at Reasors.

This month has not been all smiles though. A few weeks ago, your Daddy found out that his job was announcing layoffs and just last week he called me and said "well, I get to come home early today." We know God will provide and take care of us no matter what the future holds.......but life is a bit uncertain for your parents at the moment. There are some leads on potential jobs and in the meantime we are being very, very careful with our finances. It's a blessing in many ways that you are too young to understand what's going on though. When you're older we will tell you all about how God was gracious to us during this time.

I realize more every day that nothing is quite as sweet as motherhood. I love you in a way that no one else quite does......there's something about caring for another human being in the way a mother cares for her baby that is so bonding. You are my little boy and no other compares. It humbles me to realize that my love for you, though imperfect, is only a mere glimpse of God's love for me.

Happy 6 Months, Judah. Never lose your sparkle.

Love,
Momma

Favorite Movie Scenes: Part II

2008-10-26T16:02:00.002-05:00

The hero revealed...

This little guy.....

2008-10-24T15:42:00.004-05:00

Rocks my world.

A Letter to Judah: 5 months old

2008-10-13T21:20:00.005-05:00

(Note from Ben: My bad, again. Rachel asked me to do this a while ago but I kind of forgot and got busy with school and such. Anyway, I know she'll be working on Month 6 very soon and I already have pictures)

My Sweet Son,

What a fun month! You are changing and learning new skills every day. Seems we've had a bit of a growth spurt lately, jumping almost overnight from 6-9 month outfits to 12 month at least. Wii fit estimates that you weigh 19.4 lbs! Pretty soon we will have to bid farewell to your infant car seat.....I've been looking online at a few models.

Last month about this time, you were just beginning to discover turning over. Now you are rolling all over our house! For about a week, you could turn from back to tummy, but then get stuck and soon become very frustrated. Now that you can turn both ways, you are having such fun exploring!

The world of solid food has been opened up to you as well. We began with rice cereal, then added sweet potatoes last week. So far, you seem to really enjoy both and are becoming aware of the social aspect of eating. Your high chair lets you be at eye level with us which is great fun during dinner.

You're also getting close to sitting up on your own! Right now you do very well leaning up against the couch or some pillows, and you can balance unassisted for a few seconds at least. It's fascinating to watch your new abilities unfold almost daily.

Our family has had a very good month, overall. We joined the YMCA! It is a mile from our house and Dad and Mom both are using it a few times a week. You get to go into the Child Watch room while we exercise, which comes with our membership. It has lots of baby gym toys and you are well taken care of.

We've enjoyed our Saturdays too. A few weeks ago we went to the Scottish Games with Jared and Melinda. Despite the sometimes-pouring rain, we enjoyed the ancient athletic events and the exhibits. This past weekend, we went to Stillwater with Grandma and Grandpa and toured the Oklahoma Gardens. Your dad has been researching landscaping and horticulture lately, so we took lots of pictures and got some good ideas to beautify our lawn.

It's amazing how much of your dad's personality I can already see in you. Like him, you thrive being around people, especially those you are familiar with like family. But in large groups of people, strangers in particular, you are quiet and very observant. You have some of your mom's stubborn nature as well!

One more exciting thing that happened was Ryan's homecoming. He has been in South Korea for the past year teaching English and we have missed him so much! But the same week he came home, we had to bid Anna farewell. She's off to North Carolina to a new job. I already miss her.

Well my little man, you are such fun. Your daddy and I enjoy playing and caring for you, and it's amazing to watch your interactions with us increase more all the time. May you continue to grow in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and man.

Love,
Momma

John Stossel - Free Markets

2008-10-13T21:08:00.002-05:00

This is a fairly long video (a 25ish minute speech plus Q&A), but it's a thought provoking look at free markets and regulation. I've always appreciated how John Stossel presents ideas and facts, and I especially thought that the "cost" of regulation that he talked about was specifically interesting.

Not With My Milk!

2008-09-26T15:31:00.001-05:00

Ben finds strange articles, such as this one about breast-milk ice cream.

Avast, there!

2008-09-19T09:36:00.006-05:00

Shiver me timbers! Google be celebrating International Talk Like a Pirate Day. At last I b'able to sail the virtual seas in me native tougue. Yarrr! Now g't out there n'searrrch, ye land lubbers!

2008-09-12T16:54:00.001-05:00

This article is frankly, terribly depressing. Who will stand up for the little ones?

A Letter to Judah: 4 months old

2008-09-04T18:23:00.006-05:00

(Editor/Ben/Neb note: This post is about 2 weeks late because Rachel was waiting on me to add pictures)

Dearest Son,

Time flies. You are four months old, a third of the way through your first year. Last month I wrote about how slow and relaxing life had been for our family. Well, this month has been quite the opposite. Where shall I start?

You are doing so well. At your 4-month checkup, you weighed 17 lbs, 11.5 oz (95% percentile) and measured 27 3/4 inches (above 97% percentile). Dr. Narrin said we can start giving you rice cereal anytime, so one of these days we'll see how you like it. Sadly, your vaccinations made you feel icky once again, and Friday afternoon and night you were one miserable little boy. Your daddy and I took turns trying to rock you to sleep, and around midnight you finally gave in. The next morning though you were back to normal, smiling and laughing.

It seems like every weekend has been full of busyness.......you made your first trek outside Oklahoma to Branson to visit your Aunt Karen and Uncle Colvin, and cousins Galen and Lauren. You did really well during the 4-hour car trip, sleeping mostly while your mom watched Heroes in the front seat, one of our recent obsessions. We packed a lot into our weekend, spending the entire day Saturday at Silver Dollar City. Despite the 111-degree heat index (the hottest day of the summer I heard) you managed to do just fine. Your mom got to ride a few roller coasters and you had fun at the Veggie Tales show. We also had lunch with Hannah, one of your mom's childhood friends and she enjoyed meeting you.

The very next weekend Karen and company came to stay at our house in Tulsa. Doug, Kelley, and Andrew flew in from Florida and David, Stacy and Fletcher flew in from Arizona for a family reunion. It was a hectic, rushed weekend and we were all a bit stressed out, but your extended family loved getting to know you and you seemed pretty happy with all the attention.

One of the big highlights of this month was your baptism by a man very dear to your parents, John Knorr. He is the pastor who counseled us during our dating and engagement and officiated at our wedding ceremony - you owe him a great deal. You took the whole baptism thing in stride, although you looked shocked when the water hit you! It was a significant day, full of meaning you will understand in time.

You continue to delight in people. I think you're going to have a lot of your daddy's personality in this regard! It is wonderful to see your entire being from head to toe jump for joy when you see a familiar face.

On the development end, you continue to roll over sporadically, although this morning you had turned from back to front by accident and were crying in confusion. It was funny and kind of pathetic at the same time. You LOVE to grab - anything that's within reaching distance is fair game, from mom's hair to daddy's coffee mug, so we have to be cautious when we are holding you. Your daddy is teaching you how to sit up by placing your hands on your legs to help you balance.

I almost forgot another highlight from this month - the Olympics! All 3 of us have had such fun watching Michael Phelps win those 8 gold medals along with the other events. Maybe with your height and big feet you'll be a swimmer someday.

Continuing the firsts of the month, you attended two weddings! Oh the attention you received! One ceremony you slept through and the other you and I had to walk around the foyer due to your happy gurgling and yelling. But it was a good chance to model those super cute formal outfits we don't have many chances to use.

Judah my baby, I find you more beautiful and amazing every day. My prayer for your life is that you will dare to live with purpose and follow the dreams God plants in your heart. Know that you are loved because you're our son, and nothing will ever change that. I hope that years from now, you read these letters and if nothing else, understand this. I love you. God loves you. You are blessed beyond compare.

Love,
Momma

I love kids

2008-09-04T13:41:00.000-05:00

This is classic. While mom gives her big VP nomination speech...

Happy Labor Day

2008-08-31T22:06:00.003-05:00

Shannon posted this meme in honor of Labor Day tomorrow. My labor is still very fresh in my mind, only 4 months and 10 days ago.

How long were your labors?
From start (contractions that oh-so-gradually changed from mild Braxton-Hicks to harder and more intense) to finish was close to 48 hours.

How did you know you were in labor?
Contractions moved from every 10 minutes apart (as they had for about 24 hours) to every 5. They got to the point that it was hard to talk or walk. After a few hours of this, it was off to the hospital.

Where did you deliver?
One of Tulsa's finest hospitals.

Drugs?
Yep, after 12 hours of trying with everything in me with blood, sweat, and tears I got an epidural.

C-section?
Yes. Not planned, but his heart rate kept dropping and he was initially sideways. The doctor finally got his head turned correctly, but he still wasn't centered in the birth canal properly and she was really worried about his shoulders getting stuck. With all the pushing and maneuvering, he was not happy and the heart rate just wouldn't stay up. Turns out the super-long chord was wrapped around his neck and his head was crammed up against my bladder.....pleasant. After almost 2 days of labor and making the hard decision to have the c-section, the actual surgery was no big deal.

BTW, my beautiful little guy who is forever worth it all weighed 9 lbs, 8 oz!

Who delivered?
My wonderful ob-gyn. I am forever grateful to her for many reasons.

Late to the party...

2008-08-27T13:26:00.003-05:00

...and completely unoriginal. To be honest, there may have been a time where I was actually excited by such a prospect, but do we really need a "Christian" version of Guitar Hero? Not that Guitar Hero was a completely new concept (not to mention Rock Band), but they've each built off of successors in order to add something. I just don't understand why "Christians" spend so much money on copy-cat products that almost always do a worse job then the original just because we pasted in a reference to God somewhere. Maybe I'm being harsh, this will indeed save--hundreds?-- of our precious youth from loosing at The Devil went down to Georgia.

Favorite Movie Scenes: Part I

2008-08-23T17:48:00.003-05:00

Stealing a wonderful idea from Denise (ruflife.blogspot.com), I thought I'd post some of my favorite movie clips.

I'm a huge fan of animation, which pretty much makes me in love with Pixar. They seem to do what no other film company does: consistently make fantastic movies. Ratatouille is amongst my favorites, probably because I'm a huge wanna-be chef (hey, anyone can cook). Anyway, I think this clip does a wonderful job showing the effect that comfort food can have on someone. That's on top of making a beautiful point about how wonderful things can come from absolutely anywhere. We really just have to be looking.

Holy Swimmer Batman

2008-08-22T10:41:00.000-05:00

To Brighten Your Day

2008-08-19T15:02:00.001-05:00

This is why I will pack lunches for my kids.

Family Photos

2008-07-31T13:33:00.002-05:00

My friend Summer took these pictures and she is an amazing photographer! If anyone needs baby/family, wedding, or senior pictures, she is the one to call.

A Letter to Judah: 3 Months Old

2008-07-22T08:21:00.007-05:00

Dearest Son,

As I write this, you are still asleep and yet to wake up. Every few minutes, I hear little noises and I wonder where your dreams are taking you. I hope they are pleasant....sometimes you laugh as you are falling asleep. There are few things more beautiful to me.

Yesterday marked your 3 month birthday. I celebrated by having a quiet day, often pausing to reflect on how amazing motherhood is and how special you are. You marked the occasion by practically refusing to nap well at all and being rather fussy. Go figure.

Month 3 has brought us so many developments! You have turned over a few times from tummy to back, although you hate being on your stomach so much that you usually are too busy pouting to try very much.

You are becoming quite the social baby ~ you absolutely love being close to your daddy and I and smile with obvious delight when we get down on the floor and interact with you. When I lay you down for a nap, your smiles and coos often turn into whimpers and tears as I walk out of the room. It's kind of flattering to be enjoyed so much! Your dad and I have decided children are quite the ego boost and laugh at how much we care whether you like us or not.

Your jumpster is becoming your favorite activity. You love to bounce around and kick while I cook or clean, and have a look of pure joy on your face.

One of the biggest changes this month is your new ability to stand. You can support your entire (16.5 lbs!) weight as someone helps you balance. 9 times out of 10, this puts you in a pretty happy mood and you really like being at eye level with your momma and daddy.

This past month has been laid back and low key for the most part, which has been lovely. It's how summer should be in my opinion. Your daddy started a new job, which he is enjoying very much and all 3 of us like his new schedule better.

You saw your first Independence Day a few weeks back. We're not much on fireworks, but we did see a few at your grandparent's house in Owasso. You slept and nursed through most of them but looked awfully cute in your patriotic outfit from cousin Lori, one of my favorites.

We made a trip out to Porter and picked peaches with Grandmother, Pop Pop, and our friend Anna and her mom. You were very relaxed and happy to chill in the Ergo carrier, while we snacked on luscious fruit and took some fun pictures.

A few weeks ago, you began chewing on your hands and anything else in them, drooling, and overall acting grumpier than normal. We thought you might be teething early, but so far you remain toothless. Perhaps it's a sign of things to come.

Judah, you amaze me. Even at the most challenging times, I am grateful for the blessing of being your mother. You delight me with your smiles and laughs, and I can't imagine life without you. Somehow, seeing you sleep so peacefully, your little arms above your head, I know a bit more of God's love for me. I pray you understand it in time.

Love,
Momma

Joy and Joyness

2008-07-10T09:49:00.003-05:00

The sweet sound of Judah's laugh
Waking up to a good-morning kiss from Ben
Chocolate chip cookie dough flavored anything
Walks through our neighborhood park
Watching a blue cloudless sky through leaves on a tree
Unexpected romantic gestures, like flowers just because
"For All the Saints" - one of my absolute favorites
Baking just about any dessert
Being done with an organizing/cleaning project
TCBY dates
Realizing just how very much God loves me
Watching Judah look at ceiling fans with wonder in his eyes
Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs
Phantom of the Opera LIVE!
Dancing with Ben

2008-07-03T10:09:00.008-05:00

Our dining room now has furniture. Seven pieces to be exact. Happy 2nd Anniversary to us!

Also, it's walls are no longer bare.

A Letter to Judah: 2 Months Old

2008-06-25T23:20:00.001-05:00

Dear Judah,

This past weekend marked your 2 month birthday. In many ways time has flown by since we first met face to face that cloudy day in April. I will never forget the day of your birth as long as I live.

But this post is not about that day, crazy as it was. It is about you, my precious, adorable, beautiful little baby.

Judah, you bring joy to all around, especially to your daddy and me. It amazes me how fun it is to simply lie down on the floor next to you and watch you take in the world, your deep blue eyes jumping back and forth. In the past few weeks, you have begun smiling constantly at both of us and your entire face lights up in glee. You also clutch both fists together and hold them to your mouth at times when you smile.....this makes you look almost embarrassed and is very, very cute.

You also have started cooing and "talking" to us. How I wish I could understand your thoughts. What is going on in that little head of yours? (which is finally beginning to have some more hair!) What mysteries of your world are you trying to solve?

My little son, you are changing so fast. We are well into 3-6 month clothing sizes now. At your doctor's visit, you were in the 97th percentile for height and weight both, checking in at 14 lbs, 5.5 oz and 24 3/4 inches long. She was impressed with your vocal skills as well as your excellent head and trunk control.

What a good baby you are! Just yesterday your grandmother commented how contented you were all afternoon, keeping yourself busy in your baby gym, or resting in her arms smiling at the ceiling fan which you love so much. Your greatest enjoyment seems to come from being around people, especially your daddy and me. Many of your cries can be comforted by simply stroking your face and talking quietly to you.

In fact, our only real struggle has been sleeping. For whatever reason, you struggle with falling to sleep, often startling yourself awake. Your little arms jerk upwards and your eyes pop open, a look of shock and confusion on your face as the tears begin to fall. I bought a swaddle blanket that looks like a baby straight jacket, keeping your arms pinned to your sides. Sounds mean at first, but boy does it help! Even though you are growing too long for you legs to stay wrapped and strong enough to wriggle your arms free, sleeping is going much better now. Hopefully soon you will transition from your bassinet by our bed to your crib upstairs.

This past month was your daddy's first Father's Day. Judah, you have brought immense delight to his life. He had to learn quickly how to care for you, since I was recovering from a C-section and didn't have much energy for a week or so.

You also took your first trip to the zoo with our good friends Jared and Melinda. Maybe you aren't quite big enough to appreciate the wonders of wildlife, but we had fun pushing your stroller around and taking pictures.

Dear son, I love you. I want so much for you to understand the love we have towards you and the love of your Heavenly Father. Maybe in some way you do. I am so grateful for the privilege of taking care of you, for providing for your needs in such tangible ways. I love nursing you, dressing you, taking you for walks, giving you baths, and just simply slowing down and smiling at ceiling fans by your side.

Love,

Momma

(With Photo help from Dad)

Rachel's First Post

2008-06-13T13:01:00.000-05:00

Ben suggested that we blog together. Since I have become increasingly dissatisfied with Xanga, (especially since no one seems to be using it anymore), here goes. Hopefully I will force myself to write more often and this will become my outlet of sorts.

Judah is a joy beyond belief....he is smiling all the time and his entire face lights up when he does. During his active, awake times he loves to watch ceiling fans, "talk" to me or Ben, sit in his bouncy seat and look out the window, or just simply lie on a blanket and kick and pound the air with his fists.

I feel like I was born to be a mom, to comfort my small son when he cries, to cheer him on at each milestone, to teach him of a God who loves perfectly even when I don't.

When I was in Juarez, Mexico for a summer back in my college days, I felt like I was born to be a missionary as I helped pour the cement foundation for the second story of a small neighborhood church.

My senior year of college, I performed a solo piano recital. After I played the last chord and took a bow, this thrilling sensation of accomplishment hit me as I thought, "I was born to play the piano."

Perhaps all three feelings are true. Maybe God in all his infinite wisdom and knowledge gives His children many passions to pursue and such feelings are His pleasure in us doing His will. I think that often, we limit our youth by demanding that they narrow in on one thing, one career, one passion to pursue for years to come. Of course responsibility must be there, especially for supporting a family and such. But at the same time, how many other dreams have been put aside, sacrificed because we are too timid to strive for all of them?

Judah's Story

2008-05-15T10:59:00.000-05:00

Alternatively titled: Heeeeey Jude

Let me preface this post with the fact that it is:

Long
Not completely in correct chronological order
All over the place
Possibly containing numerous grammatical errors
Long

You've been warned.

As previously mentioned, Judah recently entered our lives. If just knowing you're about to have a child changes you, then the arrival is truly epic. Life will never be the same.

Judah was born at 9:36 pm after 16 1/2 hours at the hospital via C-section. I has forever changed how I view my wife. I knew she had beauty, but I never saw beauty endowed with such passion, determination, perseverance, and will. I was for the first time and forever on will be in awe of the beauty and love of a mother. We really should celebrate the mother on a child's birthday.

Rachel woke me up just after one on Monday morning. She had been having contractions off and on for the past month, but that had grown in intensity to where she didn't sleep much of Saturday night and none of Sunday night. These contractions, however, were close together and hurt. Our doctor told us to wait for until she was having contractions 3-5 minutes apart for 4-5 hours, we still weren't there yet, so we both got out of bed. We put on a movie that wouldn't be too involving. We talked with growing anticipation. We held hands and waited in the calm before the storm. And we went to my work. Yes, after killing time with the movie, I realized that I had left my computer logged on at work over the weekend and that nobody would be able to access an important project that was due that week. Rachel was game to do anything that would keep her occupied, so we made the short trip downtown. A few minutes after that, we were on the way to the hospital calling our parents to make sure they knew the time was here.

The hospital was quiet at 4 am. Another couple scheduled for a C-section walked in behind us and were the only other people in the waiting room. Their experience seeming so different as they both talked about mundane things not having to deal with the contractions that would send Rachel off into her own world. The nurse desk was unmanned, so we used the nearby phone to call for someone to check us in. After the paperwork was through, a nurse took us to our room where we'd spend the next 20+ hours.

Leading up to this day, Rachel went in to every doctor's visit hoping for some sign of progression and up to this point she was never dilated at all, though we'd be told she was slightly effaced. This check was no different. I could see the disappointment in her face. So much had happened so far and the baby felt so close, and yet she was still closed. Due to her consistent contractions and the level of effacement (and being 9 days overdue), the doctor made the call to keep us at the hospital.

Family came and waited. Hours passed by as we passed the time between contractions watching random tv shows and movies. Rachel was still determined to go the natural way if at all possible. Things grew slowly more intense and time began to loose any meaning. The day was forever long and yet a blur. The doctor was unhappy with the progress through the day and proceeded to break the water with a hook. The contractions began to get more intense and each time I saw Rachel slip further away from reality. I tried my best to keep her focused on breathing and away from the pain, but as the hours kept wearing further along, I could see the battle was simply wearing her down. I prayed through each of her contractions as the lack of sleep and the intensity of the pain began to be too much. Despite all this, every check of her cervix was a let down. The doctor broke her water before she was even fully at 1 cm. It was hours later before we were at a 2. The road appeared to be growing ever longer to the seemingly mystical number of 10.

As the day reached into the afternoon, Rachel was writhing in pain with each contraction. I held her as her head would roll around and her eyes became unfocused. Finally, Rachel's came to her breaking point. She called the nurse and asked for an epidural. Those that don't know Rachel may not understand the significance of this, especially since so many women make this choice everyday. Rachel, however, is the most stubborn person I have ever known. Ever. Once she has set her mind to something, nothing will seemingly stop her. Yet, here I was watching her hit that point. My heart broke for her. I could only imagine the pain she was in.

It was 100% the right choice for her. The hours of fighting and the lack of sleep were just too much to overcome by herself. Shortly after epidural was given to her, she drifted off into sleep. She was finally given a small reprieve from the battle. As she slept, I looked down at the catheter bag next to her bed and noticed the red color that filled it.

The contractions remained intense, but now the pain was controlled. At some point before the epidural they had placed an internal monitor to measure the contractions more effectively. I would watch the monitor as it charted the strength of each one. Typically a large contraction would be followed with a smaller one. I pondered the meaning but thought it was normal. A nurse came in a checked her cervix again. No change.

Then, the doctor came in and checked. "Oh, no, she's a 4! Things are going to progress fast now. She's fully effaced." I saw Rachel light up and begin with seemingly renewed strength. The doctor had her move from side to side and push. Apparently, the large contraction, small contraction pattern I had noticed earlier was a signal the body gave that they baby was not in the right spot, so the doctor was hoping the movement, beyond just helping the dilation, would move the baby into the correct position. Shift and push. Shift and push. Rachel strained, but gave it her all with a renewed sense of hope.

That's when his heart rate dropped. They quickly put an oxygen mask on Rachel and the heart rate returned to normal. They continued the pushing with the mask still on. After some time, the mask was used less and less and the heart beat remained good. The doctor gave us the job of "rocking" the baby out. I would pull against Rachel as she sat back and pulled up (think a rowing machine). This was suppose to help progress things even further. Soon, Rachel was at a 10. It had taken most of the day to get from 0 to 4, and yet in what felt like an hour we made the jump to 10. The doctor seemed excited, and Rachel's faced beamed with delight. Her son! He was on the way!

But once again, the heart rate dropped.

As our hearts sank, the doctor posed us with a choice. We could attempt a vacuum assisted labor (where they pull the baby out with a little suction tool) or we could go ahead with a c-section. If we attempted the vacuum assisted delivery, the baby could be put at risk. She felt the head was pressing up again the pubic bones and that potentially, if the baby was as big as he now appeared to be, his shoulders could get stuck. This would mean an emergency c-section with "bells and whistles" to the operating room.

I think it was at that point where all the built up tension, struggle, pain, lack f sleep, and fear broke through. Rachel cried. I cried (though I attempted to only do so away from Rachel, but that didn't work out so well). I do want to say at this moment that I am amazingly thankful for family. Not only were they a comfort with us, but they were a constant source of prayer, support, and food (I can't believe how many meals and treats were brought for me). I cannot imagine going this all alone. They gave us strength in so many ways.

We made the decision to go ahead with a Caesarean. Rachel was quickly prepped and carted off to the operating room. I was given scrubs to change into so I could be there during the surgery. It felt like an eternity as I waited in the empty hospital room. The doctor's warning of possible problems from the c-section played over in my mind. What if she bled out? Everything had gone wrong up to this point, what if the would-be happiest day of my life turn out to be quite the opposite. Some people have that day happen. I found my self sitting reading the psalms as a nurse came in to tell me to follow her. I was led into the OR where Rachel was wide awake, a blue surgical cloth draped over her and pulled up so she could not see what was going on. I, on the other hand, had a clear view. I could see Rachel's intestines and lots of fluid as the doctors worked. I grabbed Rachel's hand, "Are you okay? Can you feel anything?"

"I'm fine. I can feel them moving around. I feel pressure, but not pain."

As the eternal seconds ticked by, I talked to Rachel trying to ease the worried look she wore. Then, he was there. I saw his head first as they pulled him out. He was covered in fluid, but appeared slightly blue to me. A moment of panic rose up in me. "Here's your son." The doctor said as they handed him off to a nurse. He was quickly taken away to another room. We waited until we heard him cry. That beautiful shrillness as air filled our sons lungs. Rachel's face changed instantly. She looked the happiest I'd ever seen her. She'd finished the job, her baby was safe.

We found out that the cord had been around his neck, which is what was causing the drop in heart rate. This was probably because the umbilical cord (usually 20inches) was over a yard long. Added to the fact that he wasn't descending properly during the labor (the bladder was bruised, according to the doctor), there were just a few to obstacles to overcome. Yet, Judah was with us, safe and healthy.

As the doctors began closing Rachel up the nurses brought Judah back into the room and asked me if I wanted to take him to the nursery. Rachel told me to go. I had a moment of doubt, but decided to be with our baby. As I held my son for the first time and left that room, I looked back at my wife still open on the table, amazed at her strength.

I walked down the halls of the hospital trying to follow the nurse, but barely being able to take my eyes off of my beautiful son. His stare was captivating. We made it to the nursery and through the windows my mother-in-law and my sister waiting with expectation. I could see them jump with excitement as we entered their view. Within moments the rest of the family was gathered.

It was all so surreal, watching the nurses examine my newborn son. They weighed him, measured him, and shoved gunk in his eyes, amongst other things. Considering the day Judah just had, I was impressed with how he took it all. He's quite the kid. Yet another thing he obviously gets from his mother. The doctor came in and raved about how beautiful he was. She prodded the nurses to hurry and finally told them that a bath could wait, Rachel had waited long enough to see her baby and didn't really care how clean he was. I'll forever appreciate our doctor. With that, I was finally allowed to wheel the baby down to see his mother. It was a meeting that was 9 months in the making. I have never seen anything more perfect or amazing then this.

Judah was with us. For the first time we were a family. Not just a married couple, but a family. We had made it through and it was beautiful. God had walked us through every step of the way. It didn't go anything like we had planned or expected, but that's okay, because God was there. He protected Rachel and Judah. They are both safe, happy, and healthy. Despite all that I described above, it was all worth it. This life that we are charged with loving and protecting is worth it. We hold him in our arms and know without a doubt we'd go through it and so much more again.

To shameless steal from my pastor. I now know love at first sight. I felt it when I saw Judah. He did nothing to deserve that love nor could he ever do anything to earn it. I love him because he's mine. And now, for the first time, I understand why God loves me. I have nothing to offer him, but I'm His. That's all that is needed.

Hey Jude, you're worth it and I love you with all that I am, because your mine.

My little rebel

2008-05-14T14:29:00.000-05:00

Well, my planned little rebirth failed epically. Just a gap of 8 or 9 month gap between posts (and still no redesign). That's just bad.

In other news, Judah Benjamin was born April 21, 2008 at 9:36pm. He was 9lbs 8oz and 21 inches of pure awesomeness. He is now 11.5-12lbs and 25 inches at just over 3 weeks old. What can I say, he takes after his dad.

Isn't he cute? I think in this respect he takes after his mom. Do you notice something about this picture, though? I made this picture into a wallpaper from my desktop. I looked at it for days thinking the picture of my son and his bear was so adorable. Then, I noticed it. Go ahead and look. I'll wait.

See his left hand? Yep, he's flipping Daddy the bird. I have the theory that he actually knows what he is doing (he is very advanced for his age after all) and this is just retaliation for us dressing him up in clothes and posing him next to a strange creature he just met. It's all a bit absurd and Judah knows it.

Don't believe me? I know what he's capable of. On the second night at the hospital after he was born, I was tasked with changing his diaper. Judah was mad. When I say mad, I mean he was screaming at the top of his lungs with his whole body turning a shade of crimson. He was hungry and I was keeping him from Mom, which he hates. I was changing his clothes, which he hates. And I was changing his diaper, which he hates. So, I began my dirty deed with the goal of finishing as quickly as possible for both our sakes. Judah did not seem to understand this, however, and began quickly kicking and moving and spreading, making a complete mess. I quickly ran out of the little cloth paper towel things the hospital gives you to clean the baby and went to the bathroom to get another one ready. In that moment, I discovered what wonderful aim my son had. From the hospital room in his crib that was pushed up against the wall, a golden arc appeared sweeping majestically through the air hitting me through the open bathroom door several steps away. With skill he missed every obstacle in the way and hit the object of his rage. Oh, yes. I know you Judah. I'm on to your game. You're daddy's little rebel.

He probably gets that from Rachel too.

Welcome to NEB 2.0

2007-09-19T15:04:00.000-05:00

Working on updating the blog. It's like Web 2.0, but better. Or I just wanted to be cool like everybody else on the net. This is a temporary look until I start digging around the source code to get things the way I like. I probably be changing the background image into something less generic as well. Maybe a bigger and badder lampost...or maybe I'll go in another direction. We'll see.

Suggestions are welcome.

Life

2007-09-18T12:13:00.000-05:00

It changes you. It changes the course of your life like a typhoon crashing into a dingy. It's the weight of joy unimaginable. This life is yet to see the light of day, and I still feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect my child, to provide and nurture it.

I've been thinking a lot about the safety of my growing family. It's been a more visible issue since we've begun looking to buy a house. It's strange contemplating the complexities of such a decision, from the area of town you want to live in to financing it all. I think it's natural to be drawn to the safety and security of suburbs, and yet I found myself challenged by notions such as this. I'm so completely impressed by what they are doing. They are out there trying to make a difference from the inside out.

It's not wrong to desire the safety of your family, but it can so easily become an idol. Christian community is a beautiful thing, but when we erect walls in order to isolate it from the effects of the world, it destroys the very reason the community exists. What good is the light of Christ if it doesn't engage with the darkness surrounding us? I do not know the answers. I do not know where God is calling each of us to be, but I'm still finding myself dwelling on these thoughts; wondering where I will trust my child in the hands of my God and where I will pridefully only trust myself.

Working on being back in action

2007-09-07T14:15:00.000-05:00

But, meanwhile, the good news of the moment is that I'm going to be a dad!

Back in Action

2007-08-09T10:11:00.000-05:00

Well, hopefully soon, anyway.

Lot's of updates that I'm not going to go into right now, but I'm planning on giving this place a new coat of paint. Lot's of things need updating (like the links on the side menu) and I think it's time for a new theme. We'll see how that goes or how long it takes. Until then....

Living in the Happily Ever After

2006-09-21T09:20:00.000-05:00

Or alternatively titled, the fantastically frustrating search for a home church with the girl of my dreams.

But that's a little wordy.

First off, go to http://www.freederekwebb.com/ and pick up a free cd. Derek Webb is giving his CD Mokingbird as a free download for the next month or two, the only requirement is telling five other people about the music. You can put in fake addresses if you are completely opposed to telling anybody else and it'll still work, but you didn't hear that from me. The music is really good and the lyrics are very thought provoking, some examples:

"There are two great lies that I've heard:
'the day you eat of the fruit of that tree, you will not surely die'
and that Jesus Christ was a white, middle-class republican
and if you wanna be saved you have to learn to be like Him " -A King and a Kingdom

"Don’t teach me about politics and government
just tell me who to vote for
don’t teach me about truth and beauty
just label my music
don’t teach me how to live like a free man
just give me a new law " - A New Law

"Here in the west we want to follow you
we speak the language and we keep all the rules
even a few we made up
come on and follow me
but sell your house, sell your suv
sell your stocks, sell your security
and give it to the poor
what is this, hey what’s the deal
I don’t sleep around and I don’t steal

I want the things you just can’t give me" - Rich Young Ruler

We saw him in concert last night. He took requests and then played completely through Mockingbird, I haven't seen an artist do a concert that way before. Very awesome and unique.

On to other things: Marriage rocks. It really is the most amazing relationship you can have, though it can be unsettling at times. It's like living with a mirror constantly; for the first time I really see myself (more) clearly. You see the good, but more jarringly, you see the flaws. I've never know (in a real way, not just intellectually) what an utterly selfish person I am. It's humbling, but at the same time I've never felt so loved and accepted for who I am. It's encouraging and makes me want to strive, day to day, to be a better person. Things really are going well and we've settled into our new lives. We workout together, we walk around the lake near our apartment, we cook and bake (which is my new favorite hobby, especially making bread), we watch our favorite shows (at the moment, that would be Survivor, Grey's Anatomy, and much to my pleasant surprise, Rachel has embraced the Simpson's--my life is now complete), amongst other things. We have our share of differences, but everything is minor (in response to my wife's blog--it's not that I'm inherintly opposed to schedules, it's just that I need to be free to spontaneously rearrange and change them due to my need to always find the most effecient arrangement--it all makes sense, I swear). Oh, a side result of marriage is that I'm now an uncle, which is sweet. Now I get to the chance to tell my nephews "with great power comes great responsibility" just for kicks. Awesome.

The main issue we have is finding a church. It's such a struggle to find something that can satisfy us both, especially with our different backgrounds (comtemporary versus traditional is the quick and not complete summary of that). It's more then that though, because there is so much that we agree on. We just want a place that is friendly, but real. A place that doesn't just focus on making themselves feel good, but live out the gospel with all it's hard to swallow truth. We want some place that has deep sermons that make you think about them days later, but remain reachable and honest. We've discovered things we don't like, for instance, a church that doesn't seem to show respect for communion (it's an after thought, they don't talk about its meaning/purpose/responsibility before hand). It really is hard. The most frustrating thing, for me, is that I know exactly where Rachel would like to go. It's a wonderful PCA (Presbytrian Church of America) church. They have a lot of stuff that we like, good music, friendly people...but I keep getting stuck at "Presbytrian." That seems so, superficial. It's a big problem for me though, especially when I can rattle off for quite some time listing the theological disagreements I have with the denomination. I respect them a lot, but I get frustrated thinking what's best for Rachel and I. Am I being selfish for rejecting a church for such a reason? I don't know if it's right to attend a church that you can never plan on being a member of. Where does one draw the line on disagreements? There's the basic things that I know no Christian should budge on (a church should affirm the beliefs laid out in the Nicene or Apostle's Creeds), but what about other things?

I don't know what else to say. I have no deep thoughts nor answers to my questions . I just wish that it was easier and I wish that churches, in general, where more united. I wish I knew what my part in all this is. We are told that they will know we are Christians by our love for one another. It saddens me that is so often not the case and that I am so much apart of the problem.

I'm glad this is the biggest of my worries and concerns. God is good to us. His grace is sufficient and I know He guides our steps. If there is one good thing about the search for a church to attend is that we our having to seek the God whom these churches serve all the more.

Dos días

2006-06-29T15:39:00.000-05:00

Okay, updates have been non-existant for some time. I still don't have internet connection at my apartment (my engineer has failed me so far, but what do you expect from free labor?) and I just never felt like writing when I took my laptop to a coffee shop. Ah well, you missed me, right? Right?

Dang it.

Besides all that, I've been pretty busy. There's only two days left until I marry the girl of my dreams. She has a lot more updates at her website. To say the least, I'm looking forward to the day.

Work progresses nicely. I actually have responsibility. Currently I'm testing apps that have several minutes to process so that's why this blog update exists. Nice.

That's about all for now. I'll try to update after the honeymoon (woo-hoo! Colorado!) with tales of wedding bliss and mishaps, and possibly some more creative writing. Until then, keep Rachel and I in your prayers as we embark on this new journey.

Happy endings

2006-04-11T10:00:00.000-05:00

(Pre-post update: I'm alive and well. Still no internet in the apartment, though I'm working on a cost effective--cheap--solution to that. By that I really mean I enslaved an engineer to come up with a solution. The job is going well as is the wedding planning. Life is incredibly busy, and yet isn't. All of life seems to be floating by as I wait for the time I won't have to leave Rachel behind every weekend. And now to random poetry--)

Serenade

Fool.
This is how it ends,
A death bell tolls,
And just as it began
All is in chaos.
There will be no eulogy
For no one is left to sing.
Did you hold on to hope?
It is all in vain,
For you are nothing.
You never were.
Don't you hear?
That last train
leaving the station?
This is the last dance,
The last breath,
Of this fallen world.
And then, there'll be
Darkness.

Light.
It breaks through,
the smallest crack,
Illuminating all.
The true tale is here,
It was just beginning.
There’s still time to join,
In this glorious journey.
Don’t you hear?
The beautiful choir’s chorus?
It is sung by the stars
Since the start of creation,
Reminding you
Of whom you once were
And who you could be
There is order in this chaos,
There is love in this world.
This is how it begins.
Beloved.

I started writing this while thinking about my current preference for happy endings. There was a time I loved the tragic ending that made you think about how awful the world really was. Maybe I'm just getting older and moving away the angst of youth, but I don't want to be told how the world is time and time again, but want to be reminded of how things should be. I want the hero to win. The knight should save the day, slay the dragon, and most importantly, get the girl.

But, I think that's how the real story actually goes. That is what resonates with us with fairy tales. That things are not what they seem, there is an amazing mistery at work behind the scenes. The boy in the small farming town is not just the son of a poor iron smith, no, he is a hero. He is more then he could dream. The poor maiden working for her stepmother is not some worthless slave, no, she's a beauty to be rescued. She is more then she could dream. We are more then a fallen race who has fallen away and lost paradise. No, we are sons and daughters being redeemed. We are more then we could dream.

Failing Expectations

2006-02-22T10:15:00.000-06:00

Life is a strange, unpredictable thing. This week I started my new job and a few days before I moved into my first apartment. I had it all layed out in my head, the way I thought it would go, worrying and being thrilled about things that didn't exist. Life never goes as expected...

I expected that signing my lease would go smoothly (that things they promised would actually be in writing, or the 5-month lease wouldn't magically turn into a 1-year lease)
I expected to move in on the weekend, spending as much time with my fiance before I left.
I expected my parents to be wrong about the weather, that it wouldn't be icy and that moving in on Thursday was a bad idea.
I expected my computer to work without problem.
I expected to have to put a security deposit for my electricity.
I expected that my hair wouldn't freeze while in a hot tub despite sub-freezing temperatures.
I expected that my car would start on Monday morning and I would be on time for my first day.
I expected that jumping the car would work.
I expected that the AAA wouldn't be able to jump the car since I had failed.
I expected that I wouldn't have to jump my car again after work.
I expected to be busy, anxious, and playing catch up on the projects I was assigned since I don't know the programming languages they use here.
I expected to be given more to do then look at manuels, surf the internet, and tell people my boss was at a meeting over the past three days.
I expected that doing all my paperwork on Wednesday last week would result in having access to the employee web as they told me.
I expected that Jared would actually do homework at one point or another instead of hanging out with me every day.
I expected to not work with someone I knew in highschool.
I expected my cell phone to get reception in my apartment consistently.
I expected to not get phone calls from my mother telling me off the wall things like "remember to pick up some spinach," "I just wanted to save you some time by making sure you knew that Little Ceasar's is a cash-only operation," and "Your father says I'm not letting you be a man, but I just wanted to remind you to turn off your stove."
I expected not to get mail the first week and especially not cookies
I expected that I would spend more time reading and not watching the premium free cable I'm getting for two weeks.
I expected I wouldn't update my blog since I don't have interent access at home yet.
I expected to not read about birth-control while at work.

So, about the only thing to go as expected this week has been 1) missing Rachel, 2) counting the days to the weekened when I get to see Rachel, and 3) counting the days until we are married and she lives with me.

Ah, what a sappy note to end on.

Happiness

2006-02-04T19:36:00.000-06:00

The title is in honor of my sister who often goes around saying "happiness" for no reason in particular, other then she associates happiness with randomness. This post has more to do with with Switchfoot's Nothing is Sound then my sister's intentions for the word, however. I've been feeling a little weird about all that is happening in my life, wondering why I make the decisions I make. I find myself in the place others have been before, right after writing about trust, no less. It always seems after you throw in your two cents that they get tested. Anyway, Rachel was listening to me complain about how I'm uncertain about a number of things (it seems most times, I'm uncertain about everything except being with her) and she suggested I write, which produced the following:

This world does not hold my interest
Nor possess the key to my soul
It cannot unlock the meaning of life
For me or anyone else, though it try
Meaning can only come from outside
Corrupting tainted walls surrounding
My every breath smothered, suffocated
By endless anxious worry and care
Though the world feels none for me

Shatter this wall between us
Break my hardened, stony heart
Into infinitesimal pieces shining
Reflected beauty of the ancient
Whom all beauty must reflect
Create in me something new
Something clean of this mess I made
Rupture my pride with humility
Crack my anger with your grace
Give to me those things I lack
A heart of flesh, a mind to serve
A spirit of wisdom, a soul to love

This world has nothing for me,
I was a fool to believe it ever did.
I’m looking for something more
More then all my cash can buy
More then all my skill can find
More then all my logic can get
I’m looking for your kingdom
For a world without an end
I’m looking for true meaning
For a love with no beginning
Come down in my life
Build something lasting
Take it all, all my nothing,
All I want is you.

I Shall Not Want

2006-01-26T11:23:00.000-06:00

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me to still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake..." -Psalm 23

"I shall not want" sounds more like a command then a promise. In fact, my aunt once said she felt guilty for wanting things. I think she missed the point. God will always provide, He has proven Himself faithful, time and time again to me. It is just a matter of trust in Him, both His ability and His willingness, just as everything is in this lovely relationship we call Christianity.

Today was one of the moments of trust. My job search has seen a lot of recent activity lately, with many phone calls, interviews and trips, but throughout it all two options emerged. A job as a programmer/analyst with Techrizon in Lawton, OK or a job as a application developer with OSU in Stillwater. At first I was more excited by the prospect of Techrizon, it was military weapon systems, more scientific, and payed more. It was, however, further away from Tulsa then I wanted (3 1/2 hours +) and upon visiting Lawton, I soon realized the town wasn't exactly what I was looking for. Despite all that I thought I wanted and all my goals, I think God reminded me of my true goals in life and those things worth more then money that will make me happy (and Matthew reminded us all not to bang Hagar). I won't go into everything that lead to a decision, but a lot of it had to do with what Rachel and I are looking for in life, and importance of family, friends, and community, though the prospect of getting my master's degree cheaply is very appealing too. So, I think the Shepard is leading me to Stillwater. How very fitting.

Forward to Unknown: Part One - Preamble

2006-01-23T10:19:00.000-06:00

(Two back-to-back posts! How unusual! Btw, the big day is July 1st.)

As Rachel and I approached our one year anniversary back in September, I had already decided what I wanted our future to be. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to be her husband. I knew I had a long battle ahead of me before I could claim such a position, but it was a battle worth fighting. What good fairy tale doesn’t have a dragon, or witch, or quest that must be completed before the princess is rescued? Hey, it could be worse. I had optimistic hope in the future and trust in God, despite the turmoil that built up in the distance. I expressed my hope by writing this poem to Rachel:

One Year: Looking Forward
By Ben Bausili

Deep longing realized
In your deep-pooled eyes
And met by loving grin
As I stare at you afar
A table-top, endless chasm
Crossed by enlaced fingers
And intermingled hearts
Keeping us near the other
yet still, too far apart

Fighting desires of old
Felt by all but yet still new
The present but not yet
A time of hinting without assurance
Promise without fulfillment
Yearning without culmination
Commitment without vows

But sun will come and set
On a day when all exists
Ushered in by holy wind
Lead by sacred fire
Blessed by rains of grace
Watched by pews of eyes
When I will stand nervously
Pushing back autumn hair
Leaning forward to unknown
And seal all with a kiss,
A vow, a ring, and love.

I longed and still do for that day when pews filled by our peers watch us make this lifelong choice to love no matter what the cost. I cannot tell you when I knew this would all take place, it seems like always…and yet, it wasn’t until she said “yes”…and still yet, it won’t be until we say “I do.” I cannot even tell you when exactly I decided I was going to ask her to marry me, possible before I asked her if she wanted to date, maybe as late as a year later, but just as the first “I love you” or the first gentle kiss to her cheek, it came naturally. Our relationship has grown steadily in its friendship flourishing with ever step of this journey conveying itself in a steady stream of innocent expressions of love. Though, I do not believe in the concept of finding “the one,” I can’t help but feel that if there is one in this world, I know it is this wonderful, amazing girl. It’s weird waking up in the morning knowing you will be married, that you are forever merging your life with another “till death do you part.” It’s a wonderfully uneasy feeling thinking about all that entails.

My Whoppered Emu

2006-01-22T19:04:00.000-06:00

Wow, where has time gone? It’s been 21 days since I posted last, almost a month since I got engaged. It’s been a hectic time, to say the least. Wedding planning is in full motion and we finally have an official date; July 1st. Now we just have to go through pre-marital counseling, get a location for the reception, hire catering, a florist, buy a cake, find a place for the rehearsal dinner, get a wedding party, invite guests, get tuxes (and a dress for Rachel, but I’m not suppose to have a part in that), plan all the small details that I will never think of but Rachel will keep reminding me of, and probably a thousand other things I won’t think of because I am male and weddings do not come naturally to us. Amongst all that, I’ve been talking to many companies about jobs, my computer stopped working, I fixed my computer, I lost my long post I had been working on (d’oh!), and have been having an amazing time overall. Life is good.

Not that any of that has to do with my strange subject line. How can an emu be whoppered? Well, you see, Rachel and I have had many a conflict about words. It all started with the word "emu." I'm not sure how it ever came up, but I said it one way and she said it another. I think she saw the opportunity for a competition (i.e. a chance to win) and jumped on it, because the girl I plan to marry just happens to be one of the fiercest competitors I've ever known. Usually, I'm not competitive at all, but it just so happens I can be very argumentative when I know I'm right, just ask Matt. I always made lunch at high school interesting for him. Anyway, she insisted it was pronounced "e-moo" while I kept saying "e-mew" (writing it out that way, I looks like the animal version of email). Evidence was on my side. No matter how many dictionaries I pulled out or how many people we asked, she insisted that "e-moo" was the way to say it. This has lead to many a wonderful conversation with friends, but not only that, complete strangers too. Which actually made a bet in the mall about how the "emu oil" salesman would say it, so, ever so slighly we walked up and asked him, "How do you pronounce what you're selling?" I got free dinner that night.

It's doesn't stop there, Rachel gets on me constantly for how I pronounce pillow and milk (wrongly, I confess). There have been dozen of other conflicts over words, too. The funniest was when she looked down and her shirt was askew, she turned to me and said "I'm all whoppered." I looked at her with big, puzzled eyes.
"Whoppered? What the heck does whoppered mean?"
"Oh, it means 'askew,' 'misaligned,' 'crooked'...like 'that picture frame is whoppered.'"
"That's not a word"
"What?"
"It's not even slang."
"Yes it is."
"I've never in my life heard any one use whopperd. It's not a word and if it was it wouldn't mean that."
"What would it mean then?"
"Enlarged, maybe? Whopper is always used for big. 'He told a whopper (big lie).' 'I caught a whopper (big fish).' 'One whopper please (big burger).'"

Thus begun a series of events where we asked people what "whoppered" means. We even had a waiter at Johnny Carinos (great resturant, btw) tell us that it could mean "enlarged." Beautiful. Of course, randomly entering whoppered into google results in two entries that seem to fit Rachel's definition. "The books looks liike [sic] it might have been
damp because it is whoppered." and "no marks and minimal creasing but some of the pages are whoppered," but there seem to be some other random uses of it, "Lucas totally whoppered the fans here, as we now realize Sidius and Palpatine are NOT the same person!" (whichever Star Wars fan said this was probably feels stupid, so I'm not sure his use of the word is exactly credible).

So, Rachel isn't the only one...how whoppered. I'm one to talk, though, since I've been known to use "nebbed" (the url of the site) and various other made up words with the fake root "Neb." So, anybody have another definition for this hardly-used, fake-sounding word?

I Am My Beloved's

2006-01-02T20:23:00.000-06:00

Yes, I am engaged. I'm so unbelievably happy at this moment and have been on this high since Thursday. It was an amazing event that was created out of the spontaneousness and genuineness that is Rachel and my relationship. I am working on my version of the tale that lead to engagement, so be patient it is coming and will probably be big (let me also take this moment to apologize for the future sappiness of this blog, it'll last for a while but I am sure that this shall pass in time :) ). Until then, be satisfied with my fiance's beautiful version that sums up the actual day very nicely. A date hasn't been set as of yet but that is also in the works. Rachel has dived into the wedding planning keeping me busy answering questions and giving opinion (I'm sure this is just the start of the mad rush to the altar). It's great though, I'm not complaining. As a side note, I'm job searching like crazy while trying to find that right fit (BTW, I've decided against that Kansas City job, amongst a myriad of reasons but noteably not wanting to leave Rachel).

Not to leave you totally hanging without some more substantial to read, I found an amazing thing today. It was something I wrote at the beginning of 2004, a little bit after I had met Rachel but quite some time before we started to date. I barely remember writing it but it sums up this moment so incredibly well and I think a testament to the goodness of God. Here it is:

My Thoughts For and of You: I will wait.

I can see you. you are there. Even though I lose sight of you from time to time, I know you are ever getting closer by the desire that wells up in my heart pushing me, guiding me, motivating me, and compelling me to find you. Sometimes I find a part of you in another person, but it is only a shadow, a wisp of things to come. It discourages me at times to only find fragments, but knowing that you could be around the corner, or nearer yet, encourages me to not give up hope. I trust in my God that he has you on a path that will merge together with mine soon and I pray until that time that you remain safe, that you remain patient, and that you remain in His constant care and blessing. The idea that you are out there, praying for me too, is a wonderful thought. We are both searching, at this very moment in our lives, and we will find what we seek in God’s time. Until then, I will continue to wait for you. I look forward to the time that I can show you this after a long and wonderful journey of getting to know you. I know it’ll be beyond anything I could have asked for. More then anything, I look onward to that wonderful moment when I stare into your beautiful eyes and am able to tell you, “I’ve set myself apart for you. You are the one I will spend the rest of my life with and I look forward to every moment, from the wedding, to having kids, to growing old. I love you, now and always.”

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” Song of Solomon 2:16

The End Was Here

2005-12-25T19:04:00.000-06:00

Since last time I:

-got through Finals week and graduated college (a BS in Mathematics with a minor in computer science)
-celebrated graduating
-got food poisoning from Mexican Food (If you've never had food poisoning, count yourself lucky. It sucks. I mean, really really sucks. It's tiring to roll over in bed.)
-had an argument about what "Whoppered" means (a subject for another post, but for now, venture your guesses)
-finished my Christmas shopping
-scored an interview with Kansas City Life Insurance so a move might be in the works.
-had an interview with my girlfriend's parents
-had my computer act strangely (like, not wanting to turn on and such)
-played lots of Half Life 2
-watched Serenity which was awesome
-have been depressed, uplifted, mad, apathetic, joyful, puzzled and been utterly frustrated by the choices facing me
-celebrated Christmas (it went very well, my family went to church in the morning and listened to a wide range of hymns and other Christmas songs, we opened presents and then watched A Christmas Story that my mom had recieved on DVD. Plus, I spent too much time fighting to get my new ipod shuffle to work.)

To end this short update, I want to say Merry Christmas! May He who came to die for us be the light that guides your path, the warmth that leads you home, and the comfort you seek. Always remember what today is really about. In the words of someone wiser than I....

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the lord shone round about them, and they were so afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you this day is born in the City of Bethlehem, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; you shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men'". That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie brown

The Christian Struggle

2005-12-08T09:16:00.000-06:00

I'm with Matthew on this. Life as a Christian can be difficult and disillusioning at times. You look around and life isn't the way you thought it would turn out. Those around us seem to be more satisfied, have a better plan, and to actually know what the heck is going on. Of course, that can be appearances (and often is), but that feeling can't be escaped. The feeling that there is something more. That we missed something, somewhere.

I think we all feel that way, at one point or another. I think the difficulty comes in straddling the line, so to speak. We verbally make Him "Lord of everything" but then in practice act like He's there to bail us out in a pinch. "Uh, now is not a good time, I'll get back to you on that...oh wait, come back! I need some cash for that car I want!" I think it's interesting that from the Hebrew perspective, "Lord (see: Adonai)" is equivalent to God. Thus "Jesus is Lord" is more "Jesus is God." So, in that sense, you aren't making him "Lord of your life" you're recognizing that He's God, a bigger, much more profound (and offensive in some cases) thought. The sacrifice and love that thought represents is amazing. I'm blown away by the mere notion that God has come down to my level (it would be as if I stooped down to become a cockroach) and wants to have a relationship with me. I think that's a much more life altering thought then making him "lord." After all, the notion of "lord" is that of a position of government, and though the idea of "divine right to leadership" may be fitting, I think it's also misleading. I don't think many "lords" have desired close, uncompromising, unwavering relationship with their subjects.

We should expect to endure trials, but we've been promised a way out. We've been promised that we can give Him our burdens to take on something lighter and easier. We've been made more then conquerors (the over-used mantra of charismatic), and yet we remain tied up, stressed, and more or less useless in everyday life. Maybe, somewhere along the line of correcting legalizing, we threw out discipline. Instead of reshaping our viewpoint, we threw out the practices. Out goes the hour quiet time and we replace it with...? It slips away. I struggle with this all the time, and trying to badger myself into it (going back to legalism) does not help me grow at all. Maybe this is the lesson of some of those spiritual practices, like tithing, or the less desirable fasting. It trains us to discipline ourselves.

And there I am, giving advice that I don't follow. Trusting is hard, but I don't think the alternative is any easier. It's like the little girl who has a splinter in her finger. She cries at the fact that it is lodged and causing her pain, but steadfastly refuses the help of others in fear of the further pain it will cause. Ripping out the splinter with tweezers might be momentary pain, but it's far better then leaving it in and letting it become infected. Trust me, I know about infection. Get those things looked at...

Life as a Christian can be and often is difficult, but I have to say that I'm not sure how I'd survive when things turned bad without God. The past few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster for me. I've felt so good that school is ending in a mere week. I'm done, it's over. I've celebrated my birthday with my friends and to celebrate with my family I'm going to see The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. To top it all off, it's Christmas season, which is always my favorite time of the year (so many good memories, happy tunes, and deserts I've pledged not to eat). However, I've hit my lows. I've been struggling in the job search. I am applying everywhere that could possible fit my credentials, and yet response has been slow. I've had one company call back to get my transcript....The rest, I'm not sure what there up to. It's disheartening. Further, I'm not even sure in the direction I'm heading. I know I want a job, with benefits, so that I can take care of a wife and kids at some point, but I feel as though the direction I'm heading is not where I need to be. My biggest desire is to help people, and yet, I'm heading into a technical field, probably programming. In all honesty, I just want to open up a coffee shop or something similar. I want to be able to chat with people, build relationships, etc, and yet here I am doing something (or trying) that I have never really desired. I have so many options, but I don't know if any we'll lead to what I want.

Then there is Rachel. She's a joy. A dream come true. Yet, I feel as if there are things standing in the way of that dream. Though I won't go into details, I seem to keep running into issues with her dad. It's a hard thing for me to struggle with. How far do I go to respect him as an elder and the father of Rachel? How do I stand up for who I am, not compromising my beliefs, while not being a bull-headed moron who is insighting others to anger. How do I make it so I have the happy ending I so desire? I've come to the point of tears over this, because of my fear of hurting Rachel, of coming between her and her father, and especially of loosing her. It's easy and tempting to wonder if things would not have been easier if I had not begun this path.

I don't say all these things in order to complain or vent (okay, maybe a little...). But it is these very areas I need God. In these, and so many others, I need guidance. I'm not sure how I'd handle it if I didn't think I could turn to somebody bigger then me. I take comfort in knowing no matter what screw ups I make, "God works all things for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose." It's like the galactic get-out-of-jail-free card. I screw up, mess up, and fall, but God uses it to drive me back towards Himself. I am comforted by knowing that He has better plans for me then I have for myself. That as I follow Him, He will change my desires of my heart, but also grant them. I am overjoyed to know that I have the great comforter who gives me peace when I can't explain why. Yes, there are those times (and they are many) I live worse then a heathen. I, like Paul, do those things which I don't want to, and don't do those which I do want to do, but in it all, I know God is transforming me. He is performing the work of santification in my life, and hopefully I am ever reaching towards the goal of a good Christian life.

To sum up: I'm totally depraved, but in rehab.

And hopefully, the God who is ever changing my behavior and my attitudes, will be the only witness I need.

The End is Near

2005-12-07T23:02:00.000-06:00

I'm quickly approaching the end of my college days. After finals next week, I'm a free man. Though this is wonderful, joyous news, it is also the reason for my lack of posts. Time is a rare resource now-a-days, it seems. Tonight I finished the biggest obsticle between me and the end, a 20 page beast of a report. Not just any kind of report, the technical kind (filled with ever-so-lovely and time consuming mathematics). It was actually an interesting project. We had to solve for the path of an airplane doing a "sidestep" (the path is basically an elongated s). I had to study a bunch of physics stuff though, since it isn't my field. Anyway, it's done (minus a few adjustments I'll make over the next two days) and I'm happy. Now, on to finals (and then, on to finding a job-- Is it just me, or does it seem that everyone in the world wants one year of experience--how do you get a year of experience if you can't get a job without experience, eh?).

Such is life.

Ooooh, pretty.

2005-12-04T00:21:00.000-06:00

Well, since I lost a beautiful post that I will have to recreate another day, I will just leave you with this.

http://members.cox.net/transam57/lights.wmv

Watch. Be Amazed. Repeat.

Thanks to Liz for this one, so catchy and hypnotic. Now, to shamelessly steal from Matthe w who shameless stole from someone else and present to you the top ten things Google says I need (try it yourself by typing "[yourname] needs"):

1. Ben needs help
2. Ben needs continuous follow-up care until he is completely healed.
3. Ben needs you
4. Big Ben needs no bell to silence pacers
5. Ben needs money for art supplies
6. Ben needs a ride home
7. Ben needs a home
8. Big Ben needs to keep cool
9. Ben needs special owners who have had experience with shy and nervous dogs.
10. Ben needs to build his trust with strangers

#2 is just eerie....

Tiny Tim

2005-11-25T09:52:00.000-06:00

So, for background on the last post, I had a surgery for my ingrown toenail. It was pretty bad, so they had to remove a bunch of extra tissue, kill the sides of my toenail, and then sand down some of my bone (which is what I wroke up to hear--a very strange experience indeed).

It's been 72hours and though there is still a bit of pain and I walk with a hobble, things are looking better and better. Anyway, Rachel and I decided to name my injured toe "tiny tim." The other is now "Big John."

Yes, we are weird.

My Day with my Big Fat Toe

2005-11-22T13:33:00.000-06:00

(The following in a description of my day today.)

Apprehension and anticipation,
As the early morning breaks.
I head towards my renewing injury,
And onward to the healing cuts.
There ahead are mountains,
Of endless paperwork
Initials, dates and signatures,
Are my pledge not to sue,
And with a final stroke
Seal my fate into their hands.
My mother holds on to me,
Gripping tightly, ever tighter,
As if I’ll float away.
“It’s only my toe,” I assure,
“It could be something worse.”
But still the worry sweeps her face.
She bends to give a final kiss,
While I am carted away.
Constant beeping of my heart,
The IV starts its constant drip.
“I’ve started the anesthesia,
You’ll be asleep in a bit.”

Darkness falls.

Sometime, somewhere, I wake.
I hear a buzzing. “Oh, that’s my bone.”
And see them busy working.
I can’t describe the surreal feeling,
Of lying there, conscious, yet unfeeling.
As toe is cut and fat removed,
While I make drug induced comments.
“You want to see.” They ask.
I struggle to look down.
“Yuck” I think, but then fall back.
Once again, I am asleep.

A Room of Recovery,
There are my parents and a nurse.
“Here’s some apple juice to sip.”
Time is passing, and now I’m home.
My foot propped up and pills are down.
With lots of rest (and pain) ahead.
My girlfriend will be here soon, I hope,
But until that time, a DVD or two,
Maybe a video game or a Lewis Book
Will pass the time, and keep my mind
On things other then my poor toe.

Searching

2005-11-10T11:23:00.000-06:00

[Guess what!? Another poem. I would apologize, but it's my blog and I'll write poems if I feel like it, dang it! Anyway, it's more or less inspired by my search for a new job. As much as I love tutoring in the community college, I really need a job that uses my degree, pays more then $6.15/hr, and actually has benefits. It's been a great job while at school, but it's time to move on. The problem: I don't know which direction to head in. Sometimes I wonder if I've made the right decisions in my degree plan. I like Mathematics (my degree), but I'm seemingly more and more pulled in the direction of Computer Programming (my minor), which feels further and further away from my passion (people--not coffee; programming = more coffee, I think...). I prefer things like my Mathematical Modeling class, where we solve real world problems given to us, but these jobs seem few and far between. I don't mind programming, but it's not something I find fullfillment in. I like thinking more directly about problems (and I think I'm a whole lot better at coming up with solutions using math then I am at coding--though I'm decient at it). Add to that my desire to open my own business (coffee shop/resturant) and my love to be with people (I think my dream job would be to be a professional best friend). There are just so many things to think about, but yet I feel I have so little to go on. No matter what, I'll work my hardest, but I also want it to matter. So, here is a short, quickly written, different sounding poem based on all that.]

Time Once Again

Oh my, it’s that time again,
Time to find out who I am,
What I’ll do, where I’ll go,
How’ll I enter in the flow
Setting course of forward motion,
The always moving, roller coaster
Of life and love and work and jobs
Trying to catch the airborne lobs
Watching for those dangerous cracks
Motivation is not what I lack.
So many options yet so little known
Which of my skills do I hone?
Confusion is the state I am in,
So lost amongst these thieves’ den.
Guiding light, shine down upon me
From your watching house by sea
Lead me to safety, rest, and calm,
Lull me to peace with Your psalm.
Save me from my enemies,
Enclose me with Your breeze
Surround me with protection,
Give me some direction.
I long to follow you.
Simply, humbly, I do.

Two to the Crib

2005-11-07T13:12:00.000-06:00

(Sorry this is so long in comming, between writer's block, a marathon of watching a Korean TV show, increase in school work, the blog kind of went dead. So now, here I am, sitting in a coffee shop because I missed my bus to Stillwater and thus find myself with a day off. Actually, I couldn't pick a better day to miss school--I'll be missing nothing important, but I'll get some things I've needed to get done accomplished. Finally.)

Three weekends ago the infamous Mathew Mark Miller came all the way from Rhode Island to grace us with his presence. As always, there was much coffee drinking and cribbage playing, along with the great conversations (albeit, often disjointed conversations) that go hand in hand with coffee and cribbage. As a side note, I got Rachel to start playing Cribbage with me, so I'll no longer have to wait for Matthew to come around to play a game. Anyway, while Matthew was here we also played Dutch Blitz on Friday and 3 man Cribbage, but that didn’t go as well for me as the one-on-one games of Cribbage in which Matthew got stomped twice. And by stomped, I mean utterly decimated, barely escaping with what little dignity he came with. Now that I've bored you with unnecessary details that stem from the fact that I must brag and publicly humiliate Matthew every chance I get, I'll get to the point.

Babies.

Yes, kids and birthcontrol. I only mention Matthew, because during one of the Cribbage games we started talking about a specific entry in his wife's blog--well, that, and talking about Cribbage gave me a pun for the title. The Bible doesn't talk a lot about kids, but when it does it is evident they are a blessing from God. So the question is asked: Is is biblical (okay?) for a married couple to choose not to have kids?

Of course it's okay if it's out of your control, I don't think God will blame a man for being impetent or a woman for being barren, but outside of that can a couple choose childlessness? This question never really faced the church before the advent of birth control, but now that we have fairily dependable means of stopping conception. It is right to choose not to have kids? Is the society norm to be on birthcontrol acceptable to a Christian trying to live according to the standard of the Bible?

My personal stance is that birth control should be used with caution. I feel that the norm within marraige should be not being on birth control. I'm not saying everybody should try to have 12+ kids or anything, but I don't think we should be actively avoiding having children. Any reason I can think of that I would choose not to have kids seems selfish. I really can't think of any. If you aren't ready, then why be married? You are at least accepting the chance that kids could happen at that point anyway. The only other reason I can think of is possibly money, but in America, for most people, that really isn't an issue. It might involve some sacrifice, but it's more then possible to handle the finances under most circumstances.

More to the point, however, is that in the end we're playing with life, which always seems like a dangerous proposition. I think of Rachel who in many ways was an "accident." A "menopause baby" whose parents can't imagine life without. Again, the Bible says children are a blessing, but not only that, but they are from God. I can barely decipher what I think is best for me on a day to day basis, and yet I would try to decide such a life long thing as a child, as if God didn't know me better than I know myself? I'm not saying that there isn't a possible use of birth control, but I think that it is something to be considered through prayer with your spouse. It's serious. I don't know about you, but I'd rather err on the side of having more kids (have you ever met someone who said "yeah, shouldn't have had that kid") than having too few (I've met tons of people who with they had had more or some at all).

Most of all, though, I pray that I have what God plans for me. I guess it's my common theme, but this, along with everything else, I must give to God. My plans and my longings must be His, because that is the only way I can be happy. He is the sum of everything my heart desires and He will deny me no good thing, how could He? He's given me Himself, the most precious thing of all.

~~Inspiration for this came from not only Matthew and His wife, but also John Knorr and the book Real Sex: The Naked Truth about Chasity~~

Nobody Wants Me Unlucky Charms!

2005-10-30T22:31:00.000-06:00

Okay, so Rachel and I entered a costume contest on Saturday night and won, recieving dinner for two. Below is our award winning idea that is basically one elaborate pun. She was a "Serial Killer" while I was the victim. It took me about 2 and a half hours on Saturday to put it all together, with some help from my dad (21 and I'm still getting help from him on projects, of course, when he found out I was going to be building something, he was overjoyed and eagerly went to Hobby Lobby to find what we needed). Enjoy!

Cereal Killer - Doesn't Rachel look fearsome?

Front of Box - Yes, that is an actual wooden spoon sticking out of the box. Not that you can see it, but the blood was actually "3D" too (made from glue from a hot glue gun, plus paint).

Back of Box

Ingredients

The Maze

Missing You

2005-10-20T02:28:00.000-05:00

I miss you Rachel. Your absence has left something missing.

Emptiness

Emptiness in my passenger seat
In the space your smile did occupy.
Silence as I drive along, when once
Your laughter’s song broke quiet’s cry.

Missing you, has it been long at all?
There’s so much to get accomplished,
Yet, all I long for is to sit here,
Embracing you; loneliness banished.

Six days; endless, never-ending.
Three more; the end too far to see.
When did love cause this to happen?
When did it cease to be carefree?

In these days we've had together,
I've grown accustomed to so much.
To the everyday, that once was not.
You presence, your look, and your touch.

Absence makes the heart grow founder,
Amongst a million other feelings.
I long for you, to be with you.
And hope for happy, joyous endings.

With all my love, I cry to you
And hope somewhere, you cry too.

Twenty Years

2005-10-19T23:15:00.000-05:00

On October 18, 1985 my life changed.

Okay, not really.

It was 20 years ago (plus two days) that the Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) was released. I wasn't even quite two years old so I doubt I knew what was going on. Besides, it was well over three year before my family picked one up (or perhaps 1up?) using the precious Christmas money my grandparents had sent us. Despite just turning five, I remember it. I remember knowing that something big was happening in my household when we left for Sears that day. I guess it was all because of my brother, who was 10 years old and had researched this new device until he worked himself into a virtual frenzy over getting it, or maybe it was my dad who acted in his typical "we don't need any new gadgets" way, wondering why we couldn't just be happy with the Atari computer he had bought a couple years earlier (long live Joust!).

Strangely, I don't remember actually playing it when we got home. I wonder if my brother had something to do with that? Anyway, I do remember that it came with Super Mario Brothers, Duck Hunt (with light gun), and World Class Track Meet (with the "power pad" running mat). The NES wasn't something that I had trouble adjusting to. Even though the controls were radically different (who’d ever heard of playing a game without a joystick) I had grown playing games on the Atari. I even learned shapes and colors playing a game with a little bear who talked in a robotic voice and my parents actually wrote down on the calendar, along with my first spoken words, when I typed the words "silver" and "gold" which were our passwords at the time. None the less, the NES had a much greater effect on me then the Atari ever would. Mario Bros alone would reinvent what I considered a fun game. I played hours upon hours of that game trying to find every hidden pipe and the notorious level 0-0. No matter what anybody says about analog buttons not being around until recently, I SWEAR that smashing down the A button made Mario jump higher.

I also miss when our culture wasn't so P.C. and kids were allowed to use light guns. A game like Duck Hunt would never come out, but I had a blast with it in the day. As a side note, my entire family is vegetarian (not the radical PETA kind, so don't freak out on me :) ) and my mom is very much against hunting, yet they were okay with me shooting virtual ducks. I'm not sure how that one made it past my parents, but it did and I played. But, oh, how I wished that urban legend had been true and there actually was a way to shoot that dog who constantly mocked me for my pitiful aim.

Who could forget the Power Pad? The noble attempt to get fat kids like me to run, until we figured out that you could slap the mats with your hands and make your track runner approach light speed. There was always lots of fun to be had with it when all the neighborhood kids were around, nothing like a little competition to get kids excited about running in place.

I think one of the most memorable games, however, is Link: Legend of Zelda 2. Don't ask why we never had the original Legend of Zelda, it doesn't make sense to me either, but I didn't care at the time. All I remember is the game was hard, I played it a lot, and it had a lot of text and that was plenty of motivation for me to learn to read. Honestly, I taught myself to read so I could understand a video game. So, see, video games do promote learning. The other reason it was notable is that in the instruction booklet it called an underground dungeon the "underworld." My dad read this, thought I was playing a game where I went around hell and decided to not let me play Zelda again. I didn't play another Zelda game until Ocarina of Time in 1998 (and it quickly became my favorite game of all time). Now, I don't blame my dad, he was trying to do what was best with limited information, but it was still a memorable part of childhood.

Twenty years. It seems like such a long time. So many memories of different games, of waving the controller around, or leaning to the side, as if that would ever help me gain control of my character, or make my car turn tighter (but I guess Nintendo wants it to, go figure). Though I don't play near the video games I did then, video games are as much, if not more, a part of my life as TV, music, and movies are. It'll always be apart of my childhood and even though in a much smaller way, part of my adulthood. Congratulations Nintendo on twenty years, and thank you.

Of Logos and Songs

2005-10-12T17:55:00.000-05:00

I have a new logo thanks to photoshop. The monkey is gone, for now, but may return to other areas of the blog (oh, and I got rid of the "random quotes" at the bottom of the archives, which was left over from me goofing around with site design--it's been replaced by a single quote from Winnie the Pooh, the book not Disney). Anyway what do all of you think of the new look? I know, strange little subheading, but I thought it witty--10 points to the person who gets the reference first.

Though I still would love some responses to the last post (because I really am interesting in how all of you view the Church/churches), I'll go ahead and post this. I've seen this around, but here's the basic idea: There are fifteen questions and I have to answer them with only song titles from a single band. I used Five Iron Frenzy for their wit and humor (anything else was bound to be a little too serious):

1.) Are you a male or female? At Least I'm Not Like All Those Other Old Guys
2.) Describe yourself: Omnivores For Mediocrity
3.) How do you feel about yourself? I Feel Lucky
4.) Describe your ex boyfriend / girlfriend: Get Your Riot Gear
5.) Describe your current boy / girl situation: One Girl Army
6.) Describe your current location: You Probably Shouldn't Move Here
7.) Describe where you want to be: On Distant Shores
8.) Your best friend is: A New Hope
9.) Your favorite color is: Blue Comb '78
10.) You know that: Wizard Needs Food, Badly
11.) What's the weather like? Cool Enough for You
12.) If your life was a TV show, what would it be called? My Evil Plan to Save the World
13.) What is life to you? Dandelions
14.) What is the best advice you have to give? Give Me Back My Sandwich
15.) If you could change your name, what would you change it to? Combat Chuck

The Church of Relevancy

2005-10-11T13:09:00.000-05:00

(Edit: 5:01pm, see below.)

After reading this article about churches, specifically the churches trying to appeal to a younger audience, Rachel and I had a discussion about the Church and how it should be formed. She agrees completely with the writer, while I, on the other hand, only agree partially, at least I agree in principal. Of course, she comes from a fairly tradition Presbyterian church (PCA) while I go to a non-denominational church of much larger size (Church of the Move) which has 5 services every weekend, including one aimed specifically at the college and career crowd, with attempts to be "relevant" (it's motto is "Younger. Louder. Later.").

I wonder why we would have different views?

Not to say I agree completely with my church on the segregation of a particular group. I believe every age group must be present to have a healthy church (and my pastor has taught that in the past). I do think that every generation can learn from one another (young from the old, but also old from the young), and I think it is to our benefit to be surrounded by mentors and peers alike so that we can continue to progress in our journey with God.

I do find the article goes off base, however, especially in saying that people came to Jesus because he spoke the truth and not because he related to them. I understand that in a sense, yes, people respond to truth rather then presentation, but at the same time Jesus preached using parables, which was the popular style of the time. He healed the sick and he met people's needs. He very much related to them, going to their level; eating and associating with those the religious would not. Paul even encouraged all believers to relate to others, "Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings." (1 Cor 9:19-23)

I don't know very many adults or elderly who become teenagers in order to win teenagers, but I think that's a natural extension of what Paul is saying. The article assumes that teenagers should just stop trying to be relevant, that it's a pretty idea but what you really need is the involvement of older Christians in your life, so give up these notions. Give up the modern worship with guitars and drums, and just sing hymns with only the organ, if that's what the older folks want. Now, I'm not denouncing hymns. I love hymns. I think disregarding the history of the church is throwing away some of the most beautiful, wonderful, and deep writings, songs, and poems, but at some point, all those things were modern. They were new and probably pushed modern convention at times, so to disregard the modern would be to throw away all the new and wonderful things that could be. I just don't think it's an either or situation. Why does it have to be?

It seems the church is going through an identity crisis, with whole churches trying to hold on to tradition, or become relevant, or bigger, or smaller, or more community minded, or family friendly, or senior friendly, or coffee-house friendly, or look lights and a big screen! Whole websites are dedicated to this new "emerging church" (see The Ooze or Next-Wave for examples). But, isn't the church more than a building? It's about community which must extend past any walls of a building. It must be a lifestyle amongst believers. There is a need for different churches, styles, outreaches, and denominations; each has it's place, but our focus needs to go beyond the local church or denomination.

The Church, the body of Christ, needs to be relevant and get out of its rut. We need to meet people where they are, love them, help them with their needs...show them Christ loves them through our deeds as well as actions. This applies to much more than the poor or sick, for we have an entire generation that is ill and needs the help of the church by showing love, relating to them, and mentoring them. We need all ages to join in and reach out to each other. The elderly should try to relate to teenagers and the teenagers should try to relate to the elderly, and it must extend past a single service. The church is, to paraphrase my friend Matt Wilmeth (who was talking about all our friends), "when a Catholic, a Mennonite, an independent, a charismatic, and a Presbyterian get together at a coffee house and hang out....The body of Christ is very large. It is much larger than your church. It is much larger than your denomination or the churches associated with your own. It is much larger than your town, country, continent. And we are part of it." Only when we realize that can we ever truly be relevant to a hurting world that is looking for something more.

What is your take?

[postlogue : I did make a few alterations from when I originally posted this (a few hours ago). I also would like to say that church structure is a very real problem for me and Rachel, that isn't going to go away just by thinking in terms of the "church as a whole." Given our different backgrounds, in her words "we will somehow have to combine our traditional and modern tastes and find some place where we can worship and glorify God in spirit and truth together." Individual churches must struggle with the proper balance for their members, but as individuals we need to adopt a broader view of the Body of Christ, understanding the need to reach out to everybody, even if it isn't logistically possible for a single church.]

Giving Up

2005-10-06T11:59:00.000-05:00

(A follow up to my last post's poem to end a small spree of posts. It'll probably be until next week when I will be online for any significant amount of time.)

"Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it." -Luke 17:33

"Until you have given up your self to Him you will not have a real self... "-C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

It is one of life's greatest mysteries that truth often comes in the form of a paradox. We must give up all, if we are to retain anything; this is the foolishness of God. How do you stop someone from stealing from you? You give it to them. How do you stop a Roman from making you carry his pack a mile? You ask to go the second. It is by becoming a slave to all that we become free. It's a frightening, beautiful, freeing concept. It is in those times when we are asked to do something we don’t want to do (by parent, spouse, employer, etc) that we will feel freedom when we come back and ask to help out with something else. Your wife gives you the trash bag to take out, even though its freezing outside, but you come back with a smile on your face and ask if you can help with the dishes, all of a sudden a transformation occurs, no one made you do anything, you chose it. You were freed by serving. Is it any wonder that the Church’s main mission on this planet is to love others? It is as much for us as it is for them. God is amazing that way; his commands are always beneficial for every party in the end, when you obey.

It’s hard. Every time someone has taken something from me I want to hold on to it. It’s even worse when it comes to my emotions, so often I’ll have resentful feelings to those that have “wronged” me in the past, even back to high school and people I’ll never see again. I have learned I must give it up. When I attended ORU, I complained about Chapel, attendance policies, and dress code and it did me absolutely no good whatsoever. I should have been a servant, not because ORU is right, and not because I should stop feeling the way I do, but because then I achieve freedom. It’s the right thing to do. I am in so much need of this. To stop whining that school or work is making me do something. How much of a Christian witness is it when we take our Savior’s teachings seriously and start living by them? People will see the difference. We will see the difference. We will find true happiness that can only be found by giving up what our society says we should hold on too (our pride, our money, our success, our dreams, our desires, our logic, our entertainment, our freedom). I hope and pray that I will stop whining, complaining, fighting over unimportant doctrines, styles, trends, and viewpoints and that I will love, truly love, people as God would have me. May I always strive and desire that perfection as if I will obtain in, even though I won’t in this life. I pray that I have ears to hear, so that the word will transform me. May I give up all, so I have what is real.

My God With All

2005-10-05T22:02:00.000-05:00

Anyway, still being creative (sorry to dissappoint), the following is a poem I wrote after reading The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare, which is actually a children's book--well, maybe adolescent book--that I read for my Psychology class. Even so, it's a very interesting book with a unique concept (It's about a young boy of about 14 who joins a rebel group, all set during the Roman occupation of Isreal and the time of Jesus).

I long to serve,
To Fight! To Die!
Onward, upward!
Never Failing,
To loath my foe,
To spit his name,
And curse his life.
I will avenge
Those we've lost,
This endless battle
Alas, goes on.
I'll not look back,
But serve my God
With all I am.
For Victory
is my desire!

But what is this?
You asked for all;
A mistake it must-
You want my hate?
To lay it down?
Impossible!
I cannot be!
To love my foe,
To turn a cheek
To those who would
Abuse us all?

I long to serve,
but not in this.
You promised more
I thought, I hoped.
What can this mean?
To lay down life,
By giving up?
How does this serve
Us in the end?
Can I repay
Those fallen's love
With all my hate?

I see my wrong,
I see your light.
We are not, now
Smaller; weaker.
You've stengthened me
To bend the bow
made out of bronze,
When all is done.
I all along,
Misunderstood.

I lay it down
My hate, my all.
I love my foe,
and turn my cheek.
For love is strong;
and hate will fall.
I long to serve;
My God with all.

Story Time

2005-10-04T13:07:00.000-05:00

(A quote I like: "We've heard that a million monkeys at a million keyboards could produce the complete works of Shakespeare; now, thanks to the Internet, we know that is not true." - Robert Wilensky

Anyway, the following, I felt was only appropriate after my last post, besides, I felt like writing. Any and all feedback welcomed. )

"Long before you were born, before this city was founded, the land was ruled by a good King who reigned from before anyone could remember…"

"Even you grandpa?"

"Yes, even me," he said with a chuckle, "He was benevolent and good, but strong and feared. We were protected from our foreign enemies, but more importantly we were protected from ourselves. He set up royal knights to protect the land and to act as governors of his domain. They were honorable, fearless knights who longed only for the good of the kingdom and the will of the King." The boy stared wide-eyed at his grandfather, who sat in a chair next to his bed. He was bent over slightly, with thinning gray hair covering his head. His eyes squinted slightly, but his voice was deep and rich. He told stories in the way only grandfathers can. The boy was young, in grade-school, with curly brunette hair and green, curious eyes. He sat slightly under his covers; propped up by his pillows. After clearing his throat, his grandfather continued, "as time passed, the King was seen less by the people and His chosen knights were more in control, most of them treated this honor with the proper respect and allegiance to the King, but one did not. He was the black knight, who thought he was a better leader then the King."

"How could he think he was better then the King?" the boy piped in.

"Pride. Pride is a dangerous thing that will consume you if you let it have a place in your heart."

"How do you stop it?" the child said with a worried look.

His grandpa smiled warmly at him, "By not looking to your self; the black knight looked only at himself and he became consumed by self. He hated the King and recruited followers to join him. He mounted a rebellion, leading all that would follow him against the King's knights. The battle raged on for days, but the Black Knight was not strong enough and He, and all his followers, and all his domain were banished. The land of the King, the King's Knights, and the King faded from history, but became something more powerful."

"What's that grandpa?"

"Legend. They became the stories that we tell and those with any sense believe them and know that the King will return one day and reclaim His land. They patiently wait for when the King will destroy the rest of the Black Knights followers."
"He still exists?" said the boy with a hint of fear.

"Not in any physical form, but he is around. He is amongst anyone who does what the King would not desire; those who cheat and steal, those who use others and do not care for them, and those who murder. But you need not fear him, if you follow the King."
"But He isn't around anymore."

"My dear boy! I have mislead you," said his grandfather, with a mystic glint in his eye, " I never said such a thing, just that he faded from our history books, but His influence is everywhere and you can follow Him without ever seeing Him, but even so, He won't ever let you down. That's the nature of the King."

Years later...

John pulled his coat around him tighter as the rain beat down harder. He wore a long gray coat, with a dark brown, brimmed hat; a gun, in holster, clearly visible under the coat. He was in the bad part of town, if there was such a thing in this city, it all seemed bad. It was the outskirts in the entertainment district, miles away from the looming black Cycorp towers that spiraled skyward dominating the horizon. What dominated John's vision at the moment was the mangled body laying face down in a pool of blood, just past the yellow police tape he was now going under. "Geez, someone really did a number on this guy. Do we have any idea who he is?"

Another man stands up from his kneeling position, ripping off his plastic gloves. He had obviously been examining the body. "Looks to be a homeless man, somewhere in his mid-thirties. Not sure why anybody would kill him, definitely not for any possessions."

John tipped his hat up, "Who needs a reason these days? We're seeing more and more of this…well, not this, but more random violence then ever before."

"Yeah," the man glances down, "all I can figure out is that someone big came after this guy and he was probably angry."

"You mind if I have a look around?"

"Not at all detective."

Story Telling

2005-09-29T08:30:00.000-05:00

I've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia lately. It started as a school assignment (I had to read three children's books for my Psychology class) but once I got in I decided to continue. I've finished The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, The Magician's Nephew, and The Horse and His Boy. All of them are fantastic and I highly recommend them for the few that haven't read all of them or at least some of them. I especially enjoyed The Horse and His Boy for a lot of the simple theological ideas that were woven into the tale so naturally (“I’m telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own”). I am, however, interested in another point made by the book.

"And now, Tarkheena, tell us your story. And don't hurry it--I'm feeling comfortable now."

Aravis immediately began, sitting quite still and using a rather different tone and style from her usual one. For in Calormen, story-telling (whether the stories are true or made up) is a thing you're taught, just as proper English boys and girls are taught essay-writing. The difference is that people want to hear the stories, whereas I never heard of anyone who wanted to read the essays.

I remember, from time to time, writing a story in school, but I don’t ever remember being taught how. It always seemed to come after reading some particular story with the teaching piping up, “now you try to write a similar story,” with a silly grin on her face like she came up with some brilliant assignment. We all would write and they would all be horrible, and our teacher would smile even more telling us that we all did a good job. As far as oral story-telling is concerned, the closest thing I can think of was “show and tell.” I don’t think anybody learned anything from “show and tell” (and if they did, I’m afraid the results could be nefarious). Outside of this Elementary school fare, I can’t really think of a class that even approached the subject (unless you were one of the few people who took “creative writing” which was renowned as a blow-off class in my school).

I guess I wonder why storytelling isn’t taught. It’s obviously an asset in our society where movies, TV, and books are the focus of our popular culture, but, instead, we focus on essays. If you’ve read any high-schooler’s or most college student’s essays, you’d realize how little we’ve actually taught despite English class after English class. In fact, I can only think of one class where I wrote essays and actually improved my writing, and that had more to do with the teacher who expected perfection, but showed you how to begin to achieve it (God bless Ms. Arnold and AP English). As a side note, she’s the only high school teacher I know of that would actually write “B.S.” on one of my papers.

Nevertheless, the times I improved my writing the most (and I am still, by far, in need of much improvement) was when I wrote stories. There’s something about learning how to illustrate an idea rather then just saying it or trying to show emotion rather then telling the reader it exists that improves your writing as a whole, both technical and creative. Some of the best essays I wrote in school I started as if I would a story (and then I usually would devolve into utter tribe, I remember my dad once handing me back a paper after proof-reading it, telling me, “The intro was graduate level writing, the middle was about college level, and I’m not sure the closing is even fit for high school”). I suppose I should get some staying power in my writing.

I wish some teacher had spent time teaching me how to tell stories, rather in front of the class or on paper. If we were all taught how to tell compelling stories and anecdotes in front of groups of people, we’d all be a little more confident and comfortable talking in front groups. If we all knew how to write, how much better would our communication be? How much more literate would the next generation be (instead of talking in unintelligible hack-speak with improper punctuation and grammar, “OMG! 1 pwn3d uzzz good! lOL, I r0xx0rz! 31337!”)? How much better would our essays, the pride and joy of our school systems, be?

Now if I could only figure out how to end these things properly.

Speaking Reality

2005-09-22T12:49:00.000-05:00

"One day [a month later],while I was playing with my new doll, Miss Sullivan put my big rag doll into my lap also, spelled "d-o-l-l" and tried to make me understand that "d-o-l-l" applied to both. I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, I dashed it upon the floor. She brought me my hat, and I knew I was going out into the warm sunshine. We walked down the path to the well-house, attracted by the fragrance of the honeysuckle with which it was covered. Some one was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word water, first slowly, then rapidly. I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the motions of her fingers. Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten--a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew then that "w-a-t-e-r" meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over my hand. On entering the door I remembered the doll I had broken. I felt my way to the hearth and picked up the pieces. I tried vainly to put them together. Then my eyes filled with tears; for I realized what I had done, and for the first time I felt repentance and sorrow." - Helen Keller

Language is purely metaphorical. There is no way to actually use an object in communication, we just use something like it (it's name) to represent it. Just as I would say "my girlfriend is a flower," I can say "my girlfriend is Rachel." Neither fully describe her, they just give you an idea of her. Rachel is only a metaphor and yet, there is a reality behind the metaphor.

It is amazing that something so disconnected from reality is the only way we can truly perceive anything. Helen Keller has also said "That living word awakened my soul, gave it light, hope, joy, set it free” and later "When I learned the meaning of 'I' and 'me' and found that I was something, I began to think. Then consciousness first existed for me." It was until she knew what a “doll” was that she felt any remorse; that she was able to think about it and was able to experience life as we know it. Until there was a representation of a doll in her mind beyond the physical experience (i.e. touch), she had no thoughts or feelings about it or anything else for that matter (except, apparently, for anger). People sometimes claim that morals are a learned trait, and yet, Helen Keller who had no way to learn these morals felt bad for what she did to her doll (and only when it became something—a “doll” in her mind). The word made the doll a reality for her. In other words, not until she was given the metaphor did the thing have any meaning to her.

A few years back I had a class called “The Philosophy of Science” where this topic came up. The teacher brought up the differences in languages and how some are more useful for expressing certain concepts than others. A specific example given to us was that there is apparently an Eastern language that is extremely useful for expressing some theoretical scientific theory. In a broader sense, however, the way we conceptualize reality in the way we use words in turn effects our perceptions. There is a bit of “the chicken and the egg” here, where we are forced to ask rather the differences in language developed from the differences in culture, or if the culture developed different because of the language, but the point remains; language effects our perception. “It’s all up from here” and “kick him while he’s down” shows that we conceptualize height with success. It’s a small example, but think about how it’s effected our perception, specifically represented in our art. Again, it’s words defining reality.

In Proverbs 18:21 we are told that “the tongue has the power of life and death.” In fact, the whole Bible seems to put a heavy emphasis on the words we speak. Words effect our perception and thus, the words we speak set the direction we will go. James tells us as much when he likens the tongue to the rudder of a boat. Not only that, but our words have the power to change others. There was a study done where a group was given a test. They were split by there scores (the top half in one, the lower half in the other). The researchers went in and told one of the groups that they were geniuses and were placed in the smart class. The other was told that they scored horribly, that they needed a lot of help, and most of them probably didn't even understand what was going on. At the end, they tested them again. The group that was in the “smart class” scored ten times as high as the “dumb class.” The catch, of course, was that the smart class was actually comprised of the original lowest scoring group.

It’s amazing the effect language has on us and others. I suppose I could go on and on about it, but let me leave you with one last thought. It couldn’t be any other way. “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light…and God said….and God said….and God said…” Through the spoken word worlds, reality itself, were created. It is God's word that we hold up as truth. It is by hearing it that we gain faith. By the word, we are transformed and find a new reality. Would it, could it be different for those, alone, that God gave the gift of language to?

One Year: Looking Back

2005-09-18T16:20:00.000-05:00

The one year date had finally come. I stood nervously at the door holding a gift bag and a trio of roses; hoping all my carefully laid plans would work out to a beautiful evening. I was wearing dark slacks and a new red sueded shirt. The moments ticked by as I waited her to arrive at the door as I prepared myself mentally, but it was to no avail. The instant the front door opened, my jaw hung open and breathing became difficult. She looked stunning. She wore a redish-purple dress that showed off just enough of her perfect figure. She smiled warmly at me, "You look good," she said. Ha. Me? Nothing compared to the goddess that stood before me. The only way I was looking good that night was because I had her on my arm.

I stepped in, handing her the flowers, "You look amazing."
"I'm not done yet, I'll be just a sec." she said as she ran up the stairs to do whatever girls do. After a few moments, she came back down and I handed her the bag. She quickly dispensed with the tissue paper and uncovered the two books inside. The first was the complete collection of Shakespeare love sonnets and the second was Edgar Allen Poe's complete collection of poetry. After a few moment of talking about our favorites from each book, we departed. I guided her to my car, and waiting on the passenger seat was the crescendo of the gifts. Printed on parchment paper and framed with two rose petals was the following poem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Year: Looking Back

Blazing crimson sun dawns
Filling sky with morning light
And casting rays of amber hope,
Displaying to all His might.

Birds sing their love songs;
Echoing praise for their creator,
Revealing forgotten secrets,
And mysteries of ancient lore.

The day begins with awe;
Growing feelings of Eagerness.
We start a long journey
Of love, we hope, endless.

With deliberate steps, we launch.
Guided by the hallowed fire,
Escorted by the blessed wind,
Continually pushing us higher.

Open, wounded hearts;
Fearing, yet trusting,
Leaving open to the pain
Which only love can bring.

Sustaining rains of grace fall
As we press on to the peak,
Trusting in He who binds us
When all seems rocky and bleak.

He provides the merciful Oak,
A shelter and tower in need.
Covering us with His presence,
Our perfect love accompanied.

Potential is becoming more
After each wonderful, joyful step.
Hand in hand, heart with heart,
There's more to go, still yet.

Lo, how far we've come!
But still there's far to go.
After each peak we conquer,
Stands another, built long ago.

Pressing forward; looking on,
I long for day when sun has set.
When all exists and is fulfilled,
And sweetly, gently, lips have met.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From there (and I spare you the minute-by-minute discriptions), we went to Pomodori's a beautiful Italian restaurant in the heart of downtown (and conveniently located to the PAC where we'd be going next. I highly recommend the establishment for any of those in the Tulsa area. It has some of the absolute best food (really unique too) and a really nice atmosphere. After dinner, a piece of cheesecake and cups of coffee, we took off for the play. We went to see Harvey, a play about a man who sees a six-foot plus rabbit and how those around him react to it. The actors were top-notch and delivered the witty dialogue with perfect timing. My picks for the top quotes of the movie are:

“My mother told me that in this world you have to be either smart or pleasant; I’ve been smart for years, I recommend being pleasant.”

And “Yep, after this he’ll be a normal human being, and you know what b-----ds they are.”

Anyway, after the wonderful show, we went to riverside and talked. It was a beautiful evening and a perfect way to sum up a year with the girl of my dreams.

Random meanderings

2005-09-15T12:34:00.000-05:00

It’s been a while. This week has been pretty hectic with two projects I had to finish plus two tests. However, my creative renaissance continues. I have another poem, but I’ll save that for another time. I also composed the following paragraph:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The steed galloped at a dizzying pace sending clumps of dirt and plums of dust skyward; her autumn colored hair blowing in rhythmic unison with the mane and tail of the horse. In her eyes, a glint of mischievousness and mystery. She had the look of one who knew a secret; the secret of a universe filled with awe, wonder, merriment, and magic. With just a glance one could tell you that she had a way of looking at the world that was different, a way that was more real then the rest of us, like we are looking through curved glass, but, she looks with the purity of plain sight. A rumble of thunder echoes across the evening-summer sky, as she races away from the beginning trickles of rain towards the warm embrace of her father’s barn. As the dark clouds roll in the light became splotchy, changing their fullness, to beams, to darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It kind of came about while I was talking to Rachel and telling her how I see her…this is much more elaborate and fanciful, but it’s the general idea. I would like to incorporate it into a story I’m writing but I’m not quite sure how it’ll fit or to what purpose. We’ll see how all that turns out.

I finished reading the first two books in C.S. Lewis’ space (Out of the Silent Planet, and Peralandre, the third That Hideous Strength will have to wait another book I have to read for school). They definitively are not the standard sci-fi fair, almost a “Narnia in space” idea, though that would be much too simplistic a description. I recommend both, but Peralandre is definitely the better of the two (Silent Planet being more of an introduction to the universe). I was surprised to find out that the story turned out to be something I’ve often thought about when I was younger; that being, if aliens exist, then God created them too, and so you would think that some similarities would arise (maybe a parallel “garden” experience). Lewis’s take on it is wonderful. As a side note, anyone else looking forward to The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe? I can't wait.

I try to be romantic. It's not something I always succeed at, but I try. So, in pursuit of a great anniversary gift I’ve looked high and low for the right thing. I think I found something (along with personal touches) that will accomplish my lofty goals, but since she hasn’t received them yet I’m not going to say what they are (yes, it is 5 days after already, but the big date is this Saturday). I did, on the other hand, receive her gift to me; Batman pajamas. Yes, I am now the proud owner of a Batman Begins T-shirt and shorts. Don’t get me wrong, I really like them. They’re extremely comfortable, they sport my favorite hero, and it’s something my mom denied me in my youth…so, they are great. I just thought it brought to light the extreme difference in how men and women shop for gifts for one another. While I seek for the perfect romantic item (flowers, candy, jewelry, and the movie, CD or other something that has special meaning, etc) she goes and finds something that is funny, practical, and unique. I love this girl.

Project 86 rocks and so does Switchfoot.

More thoughts, coming soon…

Katrina and Salvation

2005-09-10T00:54:00.000-05:00

I'll keep this short, but basically I wrote this poem while I was thinking about Katrina (specifically New Orleans) and in some weird way I connected it with coming to salvation. One wouldn't think that is what the poem is about just by reading it, but I guess my mind works in strange ways.

Deep Darkness swirls around me
As I fall into my humanity
Epic battles rage unknowingly
As I stumble through today.
Will I survive my worst faults?
Can I drag myself from the pit?

I am weak, pathetic on my own.
Unknowingly causing the problems
I so long to taste freedom from
By struggling against chains of release.
Who do I have to call to?
Where do I have to run?

Worst enemy caught in plain sight,
Looking back through dim mirror
Blast this soiled world apart
I can no long stand its wretched stench.
Where are you in this place?
Why do I not see your work?

Running, crying, falling again
Into arms of open embrace.
I call, because you beckoned
Thy will be done, holy one
Who was I to doubt your love?
How could I be so blind?

A Better Walk to Remember (Rachel and I – Part 2)

2005-09-06T16:10:00.000-05:00

(EDIT: I did a bit of clean up. I shortened a few sentences and added a few clarifying comments. Overall, I'm happy with how it all turned out.

I'm sorry about the length of this post, it's a hard balance between too many and not enough details. I hope I expressed adequently all the was going on at the time. It was truly an amazing segment of my life. As a side note, if Rachel and I had a song, it would be the one quoted below.)

“It's her hair and her eyes today
That just simply take me away
And the feeling that I’m falling further in love
Makes me shiver but in a good way
All the times I have sat and stared
As she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
And she purses her lips, bats her eyes as she plays,
With me sitting there slack-jawed and nothing to say
’Cause I love her with all that I am
And my voice shakes along with my hands
She's all that I see and she's all that I need
And I’m out of my league once again “
-“Out of my League,” Stephen Speaks

I don't like the movie A Walk to Remember. I found it boring, predictable, but worse of all; I found it sending a very wrong message about relationships, especially from a Christian perspective. Even a pretty good soundtrack couldn't save the movie for me. I can't help, on the other hand, referencing the title when I think of when I asked out my girlfriend, Rachel, almost a year ago. It definitely was a walk I'll never forget, but we still had to get through summer.

Summer was a good time for me. I never found a job that I wanted, so I had the luxury of choosing not to work. Even so, I was still busy. My friend Matthew was moving to Rhode Island, so there was plenty of time spent playing Cribbage over multiple cups of coffee, having intellectual discussions, listening and discussing music, the obligatory Halo games, and many, many awkward stories. Meanwhile, Ryan was having girl problems, which is a story all to itself. Never-the-less, much of the summer was devoted to talking about the girl before the problem, and talking about the problem after the girl. It will always be the summer of many friendships and many problems in my mind. I’ve never had such a large, yet so close group of friends with so many late-nights playing halo, or at coffee shops. With that increased involvement in people’s lives, came sharing their struggles, as well as my own. It was also the summer I abruptly changed schools from ORU to OSU. I had a few different reasons (money being one), but it was hard decision. It meant leaving friends, but more specifically, it meant no longer being around Rachel all the time. I remember telling her over the phone and how I could feel the disappointment in her voice. It was hard.

It was about that time I started realizing how much I cared for Rachel. She came up many times in conversation with Ryan while we talked about his girl problems. He knew how I felt and he took many opportunities to make me think about it or at least prod me so he could watch me squirm (which, of course, he got some sick satisfaction from). I think in some ways it was payback for all the grief I gave him over his own issues. That’s one thing I will always respect about my friendship with Ryan, we have never ceased to make the other face reality. Still, I think facing reality only caused me to fight my feelings all the more. It’s as if I viewed my own feelings as some horrible beast and I swung wildly trying to slay it.

My inner battles raged on, but on the outside, things continued as normal. Summer began to come to a close. A bunch of friends helped Matthew move under the masterful guidance of the small-in-stature, big-in-presence, Eric (who would later leave us all to enter into the navy seal program). To this day, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fit as much stuff into a single U-haul trailer and a van as he did. It was truly beauty in motion. Afterwards, we all relaxed and held a very sacred ceremony in our group. With fresh shots of espresso brewed (the espresso machine had to be the last thing to pack of course), and the best vanilla bean ice cream we could buy, we dumped the shots into our bowls and partook of one of the best deserts on the face of this earth. Soon after, everyone said their good-byes, but I would see Matthew for one last game of Cribbage and a cup of coffee with our friend Chris at a wonderful little diner the next morning.

Throughout the summer, but especially at the end, Ryan and I started to spend a lot of time with a girl named Joanna, who happened to be Rachel’s best friend. We started our own little group; we went to movies, played Frisbee in the park, and many other things. When Rachel returned (to a rather large group at the airport), she entered into our lives easily and soon the three became “The Four.” For the first month that Rachel was back, we were almost always together. There were so many adventures, like the infamous park incident (which I won’t mention in detail since this is open to the public), the pact at Rachel’s house to meet 10 years from that day, or the random wanderings around town goofing off. It was great; two girls, two guys, all just being friends. We were balanced, we were free, and we just wouldn’t last. Despite Ryan’s recent problems, he and Joanna would be the first to become more than friends. It was an interesting occurrence, in the fact that it happened very hurried without them even telling us until they had already become a couple, an odd thing for a group consisting of best friends. Looking back even though Rachel and I hadn’t gotten together, it was almost like the mere impending-ness of our relationship drove them to a “preemptive strike,” so to speak (something caused by their competative personalities, no doubt). I suppose our constant teasing of them didn’t help matters. For the time being though, this new situation pushed Rachel and me further from considering each other. We were not going to bow to the pressure and become a cliché. We would not let “The Four” fully devolve to merely two couples. We’d be the lone “third wheels” and would not become an "axel" (very much an inside joke, sorry). We’d remain independent!

Right. I remember talking with Ryan about how confused I was by Rachel, it seemed clear she wanted nothing (we had a few talks about “not being ready for a relationship” and such) and yet, when we were at movies she’d fall asleep on my shoulder; we insisted that we would not be cliché and yet as Joanna and Ryan fell into the stride of relationship, we became more and more “couple-ish.” To add to my frustrations, the switch of schools was hard. I was attending OSU-Tulsa for the semester with plans to go to the main campus in Stillwater the following semester (plans that would eventually fall apart). I was taking upper-level programming courses, I no longer had a computer, and the computer labs didn’t have the programs I needed (with two weeks notice to get a program installed with 4 days until my first due date). Everything went wrong that could go wrong. I spent 3 days trying to get the compilers (what makes the code you write come to life, for those who are lost by techno-babble) just to work (not even working on the assignment itself), and then another day (after giving up that approach) to try and install and then learn Linux (a new operating system) with no prior experience using the kernal (more programming stuff) so I could finish the programming assignment; I didn’t come close (Wow, lot's of parenthesis, hope you didn't get lost). I reached the deadline (plus my two day grace-period) with a complete and utter failure. I programmed right up until my Computer Concepts test that I had spend less then 45 minutes studying for; it didn’t go well either. Right after, I had a big program in Visual C++ due within days. Right at the point I was reading to turn it in, the lab computers would crash, disconnecting me from my network drive and not allowing me to turn in my work (and the teacher wouldn’t accept the excuse, saying “I should have prepared for this to happen.”). I’d spend the entire night before the due date trying to get back to where I had been. I worked hard and I survived, but it was one of the hardest times in school I’ve ever had. I’d end up dropping my Computer Graphics class just to salvage my grades in other classes, it was the first and only time I did that, and despite legitimate reasons, I felt humiliated.

After school one day, and after I had already resolved my conflicts with school (more or less falling into the routine of things) Rachel called me inviting me to Panera bread to meet up with her and Joanna. “Okay, I’ll be there” I said with a coldness in my voice that scared me, even though I don’t think she noticed. Something in me was gone. I felt dead. It might have been the stress, the radically different schedule (night classes versus day classes), but I just didn’t feel right. As I drove across town to the restaurant I did a lot of self-reflection, which continued as I met up with them. I remember Rachel asking if something was wrong, and that I gave some answer along the lines of “I just have a lot to think about, I promise I’ll tell you later.” Who knows why I made that promise, but I would keep it. As I prayed and thought about what was wrong, I began to realize that I had been fighting my feelings for Rachel with such vigor that I was destroying all my feelings for her entirely. I was falling into apathy about our friendship. She was one of my best friends and I was starting to no longer care about her, rather she stayed or went, rather she cared for me or not.

It was decision time. The status quo would no longer suffice. For the sake of our friendship, I’d tell her. I’d tell her everything, leaving my soul bare. Or at least, that thought crossed my mind. I’d talk to numerous people about it (some in vaguer terms then others) and they all seemed to respond the same “do it.” Ryan was the most influential, smacking me with the "Cosmic 2x4 of Truth"™ in rather plain (and scarily close to what I thought God was telling me) terms. Besides what others said, the one thought that really drove me was that Rachel was one of my best friends, or so I considered her. How could I hide something like that from her? I had to trust her. I knew that I faced rejection (inevitably in my mind), but trust doesn’t take into account the consequences. With my decision made, I still refused to set a time or force a conversation; I would let it come in its own time. I’m pretty sure it was over a week, maybe more, between the decision to talk to her and the actual conversation. At the time, however, it seemed like it happened all too quickly.

We were hanging out at Barnes and Nobles by ourselves since everyone else neglected to show up. We were in the back, sitting in some comfortable chairs, studying. Well, she was. I was sitting there, my mind racing a mile a minute, as nervous as can be. After what seemed like ages I finally broke the silence, “You want to go on a walk before you go?” She gave me this quizzical look (the “what are you up to” look). It seemed like a good idea, we’d be away from prying eyes, we’d walk, I’d talk; it’d be done. I failed to account for the fact that we were in a large complex of shops with nothing but the bookstore, a grocery store, and a movie theatre to walk around; very scenic. Yep, I’m a hopeless romantic, what can I say? We did walk around the shopping center though, 4 or 5 times in fact. I spilled it all. I told her that I liked her, I told her why I liked her, I told her why I was telling her that I liked her, I told her what I had been feeling, I told her what I’d been thinking, I told her the truth and I kept my promise. She listened for a long time, an unreadable look on her face, but I never sensed frustration or complete rejection. I finished and we paused on the sidewalk. She looked at me seriously, pondering her words, “I think I know what I want to say, but I’m going to pray about it first, okay?” I nodded. It wasn’t what I was expecting. Why wasn’t she saying, “Sorry, I don’t feel the same way,” or something along our previous talks like, “I’m just not ready for a relationship.” I respected her answer. It made me sure that I had done the right thing. That I could, in fact, trust Rachel. I still knew she would reject me, but my, what a nice way to do it. She took me seriously and cared about my feelings, that’s more than I had dared to dream. As we got into our cars, I added one more thing, “Rachel, I’m thrilled with our friendship and I don’t want anymore. Okay, I do - I’d be thrilled to have more, but I’m satisfied with where we are and I’m your friend, first and foremost.”

It was two agonizing days later until we’d talk. Looking back, it was laughable how I acted and felt in the day between our talks. Ryan has forever made fun of me for my pessimism (something that is very out-of-character for me), especially since he had already found out what she was going to say. She had meant to not tell anyone until she talked to me, but sitting in the back seat of a car with Joanna and Ryan, they took one look at the goofy grin on her face and it was all the confession they needed. “You like him!”
“Yeah…” she said looking down in embarrassment.

I still didn’t know though, and Ryan was having a blast with me. What a jerk. I even thought about calling her up and telling her how she was going to answer. “Um, Rachel, I know you don’t like me so I’m taking it all back.” I'm a head-case if you haven’t figured that out. The next day came and I decided to hang out at ORU (since I had no classes on Friday). I went to chapel and sat with Ryan and Rachel (she even gave me an awkward hug). The whole thing was a weird experience. I’m sitting beside her dieing to know what she’s thinking and what she’s going to say, knowing that she’s not going to say a word because we’re surrounded by our friends. Afterwards, she had class. I remember her hesitantly coming up to me, with a sheepish look on her face, “Ben, did you, uh, still want to talk later to day?”
“Of course,” I said.
”Okay, I’ll call you after I’m done with class.” Looking back, I realize that she was suffering from the same self-doubt I was. What if I had changed my mind? What if I realized she didn’t like me? What if…

Humans are all head-cases I think. We met at Panera a few hours later. I remember her walking in, saying hi to Joanna who was working behind the register, and then time slowing as she turned toward me. She walked across the room and gracefully slid into the seat next to me. “How are you?”
”Uh, just fine. How was class?’
”Oh it was nice.”
Yes, after two days, we started with small talk. I sat there in agony as I realized she was going to torture me with inane questions about school and work while there was only one thing I wanted to know. My mind was screaming and my heart was reeling in pain. Shut-up woman, get to the freakin’ point! Why are you dragging this on? Is this a sick joke!? Rip my heart out already, get it over with! Then, there was a pause. Is this it? Do I finally get to hear the words I’ve longed to hear or will I face rejection yet again? With her elbow on the table and her head propped up by her arm, she looked at me in a completely genuine, amazing way that will forever be burned into my mind's eye.

“Ben, I like you.”

My mind came to a complete stop. I forget how to speak. I might have even blacked out. “Oh, wow.” I mumbled. She looked at me strangely, wondering if I was going to respond intelligibly. “I’m thrilled.” I said in a kind of flat way. She looked as if she didn’t believe me. “Wow! I can’t believe it!” I finally got out, as my emotions kicked in and my mind began to operate at a semi-normal speed. The smile on her face was beautiful, but I could still detect a little bit of anxiousness.
“What are we going to do now?” She asked.
“Well, I guess we talk to your dad.”
She relaxed, and all anxiousness faded. Some of you might wonder about that, and let me just say this; Rachel’s parents are very traditional. Very traditional. I have many stories for another time about my talks with her dad, but to say the least, she was relieved that I volunteered to talk to her dad without her having to tell me I needed to. I did talk to him and he approved. We were together.

So, on September 8, 2004 I took a walk and on September 10, 2004 the girl of my dreams told me she liked me. It was only the first step of the true journey (our real “walk to remember”), but it has been such a fantastic time. I never in my life felt that I could learn so much from an individual, be challenged so much, or loved so much.

“It's a masterful melody when she calls out my name to me
As the world spins around her she laughs, rolls her eyes
And I feel like I’m falling but it's no surprise
’Cause I love her with all that I am
And my voice shakes along with my hands
’Cause it's frightening to be swimming in this strange sea
But I’d rather be here than on land
Yes she's all that I see and she's all that I need
And I’m out of my league once again”
-“Out of my League,” Stephen Speaks

A Beautiful Friendship (Rachel and I - part 1)

2005-09-01T13:31:00.000-05:00

(I would like to note that I wrote this once before. It was beautiful, but in some amazing glitch of technology, it disappeared as I was trying to copy it. When I went to paste it, a single sentence came out. My would-be saviour "undo" failed me. When I used the Auto Restore, that single sentence came back to haunt me. There was no crash; my hard work was just gone, forever doomed to the eternal pit that is Microsoft XP.)

We met in the fall of 2003. I was hanging out at my friend Ryan’s house after school, since I was a commuter who lived 35+ minutes away from campus, so from time to time, I’d go to his house, get out of dress-code (which at the time constituted a dress shirt, tie, and jeans or collared shirt, slacks, and dress shoes), and hang out. Usually, we played basketball, or videogames, or we talked about theology/philosophy (with me and Ryan, the two always intertwine in bizarre and interesting ways, but that’s just kind of how our friendship is…a topic for another day, perhaps). On this day, I believe we were talking in his room. One way or another, he invited me to go to a concert with him at the chapel, and I went since I didn’t have anything better to do. I don’t remember the exact specifics, since it was a pretty typical day. All I remember is that I was over there and that I changed clothes at some point (and that because my girlfriend can tell you what I was wearing—black basketball shorts and a blue italian-style shirt).

So, we got to the chapel and we sat down. What Ryan neglected to mention was that we were going to be sitting with one of his friends, namely, Rachel. What he also neglected to mention was that he had to go to a business meeting in 15 minutes. So, when the time came, Ryan left me sitting next to a girl I did not know listening to a mediocre-at-best band. Even to this day, Ryan claims it was all some elaborate plan and that he is solely responsible for Rachel and I's relationship. What can I say, though? We hit it off. Sparks flew, conversation flowed; it was love at first sight. Or, I chickened out, awkwardly said goodbye and went home. You know, whatever seems more believable.

You see, I as much as I’d like to say I’m a ladies man who woos every woman in my vicinity, it just isn’t true. I even have trouble with the most basic of flirting without coming off either forced or too subtle. I’m the nice guy whose majority of friends are girls, who view him as a “brother” and who have never “thought of him that way.” You know what? Rachel was one of those girls. We were just friends, never seeing the other in any other way then that. Maybe it was because I had grown used to being in that role and thought nothing of it, or perhaps it’s because we were different. I was a vegetarian; she was not. She’s a Presbyterian; I am non-denominational (with supposed differing views represented by those labels). I like video games; she loathes them. Out of those differences, and out of our many, many hidden similarities grew an amazing friendship. It started humbly, with me walking into the commuter lounge, “Hey, your Ryan’s friend from the concert, right?” “Yeah.” And so it began. She would later go on to say (paraphrasing Casablanca), “Of all the commuter lounges in all the colleges in all the world, you walked into mine.”

In fact, as the school year trudged on, we became better and better friends. It was a time that I wouldn’t have traded for anything. Soon, as our friendship grew closer, as did our circle of friends, we started spending time together, alone. We watched Fiddler on the Roof for my Hebrew class in the Language Center. We watched Matrix: Reloaded and Revolutions in the commuter lounge, even after everybody left us. It was never intentional, per say, it just happened. There were even times where it was avoided, like during Spring Break when we were going to see The Last Samurai with a group of friends, who all back out, leaving us. All of a sudden, she had to do something with her family (the truth would come out later). Still, we were becoming inseparable and despite the fact that we didn’t realize it until we looked back, there was something growing during those months. Sometimes I’m sure we were the only ones who didn’t realize it. Apparently, my friend Matthew was the first to predict our impending relationship, but he was too polite to mention that to me. He did, of course, tell others for when he’d be proven right.

Summer came, and Rachel decided that she was going to Mexico for a two month mission’s trip. Part of me was crushed. Yes, I was thrilled for the adventures she’d have and for the good she’d be doing, but I was still going to miss one of my best friends. She’d become that so slowly and casually that I don’t think I realized it until she was about to leave. I have trouble saying what I want when in person, but I do a much better job communicating through my writing. When I have to tell somebody something important (goodbye, you’re screwing up, I miss you, I screwed up, etc), I almost always do it in a letter. So, I wrote her in my genuine, almost too genuine, way. She told me later that I made her cry because of how sweet it was, but my honesty would plant some unintended notions in her head. I gave her the letter a day before she left, after we went bowling with some friends. With a simple hug good-bye, we parted.

Throughout the summer, we kept in touch. I emailed a few times and she always responded, plus she sent a few traditional letters. We even got to talk on the phone a handful of times. I think that goodbye letter haunted her, though, in some strange way. She would later tell me how she was afraid that I liked her and she worried about having to deal with it when she returned. She just wasn’t interested. At the time I wouldn’t admit, even to myself, that I was interested. I had figured out (wrongly) that these kinds of emotions lead to a very bad outcome, so I wasn’t even willing to acknowledge them, lest I feel the pain of my past in an all new way. I thought ignoring it would allow me to go on blissfully in my friendship. I thought I could go on, not wanting more. I was wrong. I'm glad too.

Boring Computer Science = Poems?

2005-08-31T19:32:00.000-05:00

Okay, so Monday I was sitting in my 7:30-10:00pm Information Assurance class. It's boring. When I say boring, I mean one of the worst I've ever taken. It’s supposed to be about security, a new, happening thing in the technology field, right? Well, no. The teacher says it's more of an Operating Systems course which isn't as cool, but in actuality it's turned out to be about "computer basics." What I mean by that is, subjects that were covered in my first semester's introductory course of college, and that I knew back in High school. So, as I said, absolutely boring. For some reason or another, it prompted me to write not one, but two poems, plus a little bit of a story. I don't write creatively all that often anymore, but it was pretty fun. I thought I'd share the poems even though I wouldn't call them great works of art or anything.

Here's the first:

Almost there, never ending
Finish line, up ahead
A year, a month, a day
Pass away, come again.
Is this life? Not exactly.
Is this real? Not really.
Fooled, life's too short
Learning, I've played the game
Think you've won? Not a chance.
I see the end, not far off
I'm fresh, anew, not under you
You're finished, you've lost
I see the light, blazing
Bright, towering above
Casting long shadows of
My new slavery, freedom
From you, supernatural
Never ending, almost there
Up ahead, my finish line
Lay ahead, under a cross.

The Second (which made my girlfriend cry, btw):

Pedals fall, dancing in the wind,
Swirl around in ghostly eulogy
Spring is fading, newborn autumn
This is the way of earthly life.
So it is with our pure love
Nothing remains new, but goes on
In you, my heart jumped with life
It learned to dance and sing
And drank in your merry spirit.
Each day was met with trepid steps
As we started a bold, fantastic journey
Led onwards by an awesome pillar of fire
We slept under the billowing oak
Fed by rains of the Ancient's grace.
A gift from above is our love;
How exciting and brilliant it has been!
But winds of change are flowing in
Ushering the next phase of our adventure
Strange and scary the unknown can be
But if its half as good as before
I'll cast out, with a grin, out to sea
With you by my side
The holy wind at our backs
And a pillar of clouds
Always leading us on.

A Matter of Time

2005-08-30T15:21:00.000-05:00

I have a fascination with time, or rather, the absence of time. I’ve been known to interject into an argument “Well, if we consider that time is relative…” or more often, “Since God is outside of time…” often met with the groans of those who know me best. The idea that time had to be created and that there had to be a time (excuse the lack of a better word) in which time itself did not exist is something I find incomprehensible, but at the same time I have trouble not thinking about from time to time (ha ha). How does God being outside time (Oh so wonderfully summed up by him being the simple “I am”) effect free-will or lack thereof? How does a timeless God communicate within time? How do God’s interactions with us in the moment skew our perspective of Him in an eternal sense?

As of late, however, I’ve been dwelling on a different train of thought (away from the specifically God “timelessness” or how giving an “age” to the universe is meaningless since relativity destroys time as a constant). This latest thought trend was started by my reading A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. It is an absolutely wonderful, true story about a couple, how they met and what life had in store for them, along with many theological and intellectual discussions and debates with friends such as C.S. Lewis (one of my favorite authors of all time). The book talks, specifically near the end, about how it is those moments that seem timeless that are most dear.

In actuality, we all say things like “If only I had the time,” “I need more time,” “How did time get away from me,” and on and on and on. We’re constantly being pressed for time all the while wishing for more of it. Or rather, maybe we wish for no time at all. I don’t speak for all, but I always wish I didn’t have to worry about time. I long to stop by and chat with friends without checking my watch to see if I’ll be late to work, or wanting to read a book under a tree without worrying about the class I have to attend. How pleasant it would be to stop and ponder the trees or mountains, or to sit on top of a rock in the mountains contemplating the deep thoughts of the universe until I no longer felt like doing so. When I think about it, when life most closely resembles those wishes, it is when I feel the most satisfied. Like my first date with Rachel when we went to the river, watching the sunset while a jazz band played softly behind us. Time slowed down to a crawl, if it existed at all. I don’t remember how long we were there, nor do I remember when we decided to go for a walk across the bridge, or how long we did that. I remember the words, I remember her snuggling up next to me for the first time, but time was the most distant think from me. All that mattered was she was there. It was the two of us, with no other obligations…we just were. Isn’t that what we long for? Yes, the beautiful girl next to us, but to the point of everything I’ve written so far…just being.

It has been said that because a man hungers, it does not prove that he has food. I’ll go with C.S. Lewis’s response by saying, though it does not prove he has food, it does prove that such a thing as food exists. We thirst and water exists. We desire love and love exists. We desire relationship, and girls exist. We desire immortality; we desire timelessness…..because eternity exists. I have desires that this world can in no way fulfill, but only resemble. As C.S. Lewis put it so much more eloquently in Mere Christianity "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

We are designed for more than this place can offer.
We are designed to be so much more then we are.
We are designed to be with God.
It’s fascinating…

This Should Offend You

2005-08-12T12:22:00.000-05:00

"Life is a story, told by an idiot with sound and fury, signifying nothing." –Shakespeare

A Tribute to my friend Pastor John Knorr of the Universtiy of Tulsa's RUF
(As a side note, this is not meant as an attack on anyone, but just conveys my emotional response to a debate I was having about predestination. The title is in reference to an often said phrase by John. This is not a theological piece, but based more on the emotional debate that was weighing on me at the time I wrote it.)

Is it all meaningless?
Has life maintained an illusion
Grand in proportion and scale
Deceiving all who live and
laughing at all who die?
What use is the logical mind
if we dismiss its conclusions
with a wave of the hand
In the end we've used
logic to dismiss itself
and leave ourselves with
nothing. How can we?

We claim to be light,
but insist no hope for the dark.
They were made into darkness
and darkness they will stay.
Then, what good is light?
So we systematize and categorize
to comfort our lack of compassion.
We kill the living and breathing
so it is cold and factual,
law to be followed; never understood.
And what of this amazing grace?
'Tis not grace at all
a misunderstanding all along
It is simple redefinition
chosen by a deity not
acting in and by love
but in arbitrary time and way.

What potter weeps for making
a clay pot to hold trash?
Does it not serve its purpose?
We deem the pot dishonorable
but that's only a label
for our skewed perspective.
It was made for such a purpose.
Who are we to question?
Who are we to say it did not serve
as well as us other pots?
Rather in honor or dishonor.
Have we not both brought
the same potter His glory?
Rather heart of stone or flesh
was it not given from
one source for one purpose?

All this ends in meaninglessness.
We have ripped out our heart
and destroyed the Image
of the One who made us
more then we currently are.
Can we, those who claim
A sovereign, masterful, creator God,
Live with a philosophy that ends
The same as those long-winded
philosophies of those who claim none?
-Ben (Feb 2005)