I'll skip inventory and just say that I am going to sleep for a few hours. When I wake up, the adventure begins.
Mike and I are sleeping at my family's home, and we'll meet Paul on campus in the morning.
How does it feel, Phil?
Liberating.
Thanks to Morgan and Mom for sewing up a few pairs of my pants so that I can be clothed during this endeavor. The canned grapefruit provided is an added bonus.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
RoundTop
Hanging out in the radio station with Kate, I got a call from Mike saying he arrived on campus and that I should come to Ski Round Top with him. I almost turned down the offer, knowing we'd be skiing/snowboarding in Colorado as well. Didn't want to spend money twice.
Found our way to the mountain (I'm not used to seeing snow on it, only mud and hardcore bands). Bought some rental equipment.
The ride up on my first chair lift was beautiful. Kind of intimidating, but whatever.
I had never skied. Neither had Mike (but he's good at snowboarding). I should've taken a lesson or something. I tried to teach myself by going down a black diamond slope for my first try. Wrong decision.
After trying a few tough routes, I figured out that there were easier slopes on the other side of the mountain. I made it all the way down some of the green slopes on the first try, but I don't know how to stop, so I just made myself wipe out so I wouldn't run into people at the bottom.
I feel very accomplished. Not because I am an amazing skier (I suck), but because I feel beat up and that sure beats not going at all. I would've regretted not going. I'd rather learn that I suck now so I can appreciate the beauty of the Rockies by looking at them, not dying on them.
Jake and Kate were one goal away from defeating me in table soccer today which I felt was a disgrace because no one has come within three points of me this whole year (a little ego rubbing after an embarrassing attempt at real sports).
I'm back on our floor for my last night here, studying for my last final tomorrow at 8 AM. American Government. I don't like the American Government, necessarily, and I certainly don't like to learn about it; however, this says a lot about the professor because he actually kept me interested in the curriculum and class discussion.
I cursed at Paul a lot. He does this thing where he'll ask you how you feel and then prove you wrong (just for the sake of being right) about a part of the conversation that's entirely irrelevant. Then he'll smile about it because he can never stop smiling and then I'll get really angry because he's just glorifying himself by seeming to be better than everyone (or at least me). Anyway, I shouldn't curse at him for it. He's the only one I ever really freak out on. Really, he's not doing anything wrong, it's just his ADD and all that. I shouldn't take it personal when he wants to challenge me (and how I'm always more right than him). I should just let him talk and be right and then when he's done with showing up everyone else's knowledge, I'll continue by answering the original question presented to me. So yeah, I cursed and I shouldn't have. But the bigger issue is that I will have to tolerate other people's character if I'm going to live in a vehicle with them for three weeks. I don't know how Jesus tolerated so many diverse personalities. That seems like so much pressure. Well, he didn't go skiing and tear up his entire back and left wrist (and athletic self-image). It's not like the cross hurt that much....
Tomorrow I have a final, then I'll go home, do laundry, sleep, leave to come back to campus so we can begin adventuring. I'l try to remember to post an inventory of our groceries tomorrow. All anyone needs to know for now is that we have hundreds of Chick-fil-a free meal coupons.
Next time I at a ski mountain I'll just ride the ski lifts. They're peaceful and stuff. Or at least I'll just sit and admire all of the distant town lights you can see piercing the dark abyss from the top of a mountain. Just don't ask me to ski. Well, we'll see....
Whoever left me the basket full of candy and toiletries and a hat and stuff for the trip: thank you. It says a lot because I honestly probably wouldn't do that for you, whoever you are (Matthew 6:3-4).
Found our way to the mountain (I'm not used to seeing snow on it, only mud and hardcore bands). Bought some rental equipment.
The ride up on my first chair lift was beautiful. Kind of intimidating, but whatever.
I had never skied. Neither had Mike (but he's good at snowboarding). I should've taken a lesson or something. I tried to teach myself by going down a black diamond slope for my first try. Wrong decision.
After trying a few tough routes, I figured out that there were easier slopes on the other side of the mountain. I made it all the way down some of the green slopes on the first try, but I don't know how to stop, so I just made myself wipe out so I wouldn't run into people at the bottom.
I feel very accomplished. Not because I am an amazing skier (I suck), but because I feel beat up and that sure beats not going at all. I would've regretted not going. I'd rather learn that I suck now so I can appreciate the beauty of the Rockies by looking at them, not dying on them.
Jake and Kate were one goal away from defeating me in table soccer today which I felt was a disgrace because no one has come within three points of me this whole year (a little ego rubbing after an embarrassing attempt at real sports).
I'm back on our floor for my last night here, studying for my last final tomorrow at 8 AM. American Government. I don't like the American Government, necessarily, and I certainly don't like to learn about it; however, this says a lot about the professor because he actually kept me interested in the curriculum and class discussion.
I cursed at Paul a lot. He does this thing where he'll ask you how you feel and then prove you wrong (just for the sake of being right) about a part of the conversation that's entirely irrelevant. Then he'll smile about it because he can never stop smiling and then I'll get really angry because he's just glorifying himself by seeming to be better than everyone (or at least me). Anyway, I shouldn't curse at him for it. He's the only one I ever really freak out on. Really, he's not doing anything wrong, it's just his ADD and all that. I shouldn't take it personal when he wants to challenge me (and how I'm always more right than him). I should just let him talk and be right and then when he's done with showing up everyone else's knowledge, I'll continue by answering the original question presented to me. So yeah, I cursed and I shouldn't have. But the bigger issue is that I will have to tolerate other people's character if I'm going to live in a vehicle with them for three weeks. I don't know how Jesus tolerated so many diverse personalities. That seems like so much pressure. Well, he didn't go skiing and tear up his entire back and left wrist (and athletic self-image). It's not like the cross hurt that much....
Tomorrow I have a final, then I'll go home, do laundry, sleep, leave to come back to campus so we can begin adventuring. I'l try to remember to post an inventory of our groceries tomorrow. All anyone needs to know for now is that we have hundreds of Chick-fil-a free meal coupons.
Next time I at a ski mountain I'll just ride the ski lifts. They're peaceful and stuff. Or at least I'll just sit and admire all of the distant town lights you can see piercing the dark abyss from the top of a mountain. Just don't ask me to ski. Well, we'll see....
Whoever left me the basket full of candy and toiletries and a hat and stuff for the trip: thank you. It says a lot because I honestly probably wouldn't do that for you, whoever you are (Matthew 6:3-4).
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
I never would've laid in this grave of a body for so long
I will open this blog session with a poem I recently wrote, and end it with one written quite awhile ago (and certainly not written well, but whatever):
" iowa mothers clothed in the death of husbands
potato one, two, planting
potato three my country tis of
liberty of trees desolate of branches
of saints sinking in shallow waters
whether daughters crave desire for their
fathers
minnesota lakes filled with protestants
scripture abiding vagabonds, nomadic
once with homes
going there is nothing
more than leaving "
It's time to leave.
Danika's text today: "You need to not convince yourself that you are at peace with just anything but that you are at peace with yourself."
She also made me tell her what it feels like to not be at peace. I told her it feels like I'm hungry all the time, but cannot ever eat food in front of me. Constant tension is in my muscles due to my horrible posture. Often I would love to cry, but I just can't make it happen. I'm completely turned off to erotic thoughts at this point, which honestly I think is a shame because sex drive is part of our humanity, part of what mysteriously makes us gorgeous as people.
Finals need to end. When I go home, I will realize my house is a temporary thing and that earth is home. I certainly like finals week; it's pretty chill and good conversations abound. Maybe that's the problem though, even when something is good in life, I'm always waiting for the next thing. The next step. The next phase of progress. No more progress, Phil. Just wake up, breathe, smile, enjoy. Smiling. I can't do it without people around. For the sake of heaven, what am I doing alone in my room right now? I'm just going to go read outside of the dining hall (pancake night) and let the ambiance of chatter circle around me. That will feel good.
" A cycle of birth, growth, and death.
The sky holds a dangerous sense of wonder.
Walking, talking in vain.
I know these tracks.
I make and remake them by day.
By night I fly through clouds,
Finding beauty is nothing more than what I've seen.
I've yet to scope the Northern Lights,
But surely he keeps nothing more in his pockets.
Vacant pockets.
Empty hearts of a seemingly true state of content.
I left the globe for the same reason I had came. "
3 days to go. But I can't be making an attempt to run away from something. I have to be running toward something. Or at least not putting the future on a pedestal, neglecting present community.
" iowa mothers clothed in the death of husbands
potato one, two, planting
potato three my country tis of
liberty of trees desolate of branches
of saints sinking in shallow waters
whether daughters crave desire for their
fathers
minnesota lakes filled with protestants
scripture abiding vagabonds, nomadic
once with homes
going there is nothing
more than leaving "
It's time to leave.
Danika's text today: "You need to not convince yourself that you are at peace with just anything but that you are at peace with yourself."
She also made me tell her what it feels like to not be at peace. I told her it feels like I'm hungry all the time, but cannot ever eat food in front of me. Constant tension is in my muscles due to my horrible posture. Often I would love to cry, but I just can't make it happen. I'm completely turned off to erotic thoughts at this point, which honestly I think is a shame because sex drive is part of our humanity, part of what mysteriously makes us gorgeous as people.
Finals need to end. When I go home, I will realize my house is a temporary thing and that earth is home. I certainly like finals week; it's pretty chill and good conversations abound. Maybe that's the problem though, even when something is good in life, I'm always waiting for the next thing. The next step. The next phase of progress. No more progress, Phil. Just wake up, breathe, smile, enjoy. Smiling. I can't do it without people around. For the sake of heaven, what am I doing alone in my room right now? I'm just going to go read outside of the dining hall (pancake night) and let the ambiance of chatter circle around me. That will feel good.
" A cycle of birth, growth, and death.
The sky holds a dangerous sense of wonder.
Walking, talking in vain.
I know these tracks.
I make and remake them by day.
By night I fly through clouds,
Finding beauty is nothing more than what I've seen.
I've yet to scope the Northern Lights,
But surely he keeps nothing more in his pockets.
Vacant pockets.
Empty hearts of a seemingly true state of content.
I left the globe for the same reason I had came. "
3 days to go. But I can't be making an attempt to run away from something. I have to be running toward something. Or at least not putting the future on a pedestal, neglecting present community.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
While Naked
40 hours without sleep is horrible.
But it makes you recognize hidden truths about earth. About people.
People are beautiful, and sometimes I wish I could remove everything from earth that did not matter. I would be left with people.
Bought a 60 gig panasonic 50x optical zoom video camera today (for the trip, mostly). Also, a sweet onezy with glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs.
Also manned up to some things this weekend. Miscommunicated a lot in the process. Oh well. Not that I don't care, I deeply care, but my seriousness about affairs that I think I have control over (even though I don't) has destroyed my heart in the past. External affairs beyond my decision should not alter my love and heart for Christ and my direct mission of love for people....
Been chilling in the union for hours and hours, studying for finals tomorrow but frequently distracting myself with conversations with Kate and Blake, because they are two of the most gorgeously authentic people I know.
About to go buy tons of food for our trip with my remaining campus flex dollars at the C-Store. Non-perishable items I guess: pop-tarts, chips, snack foods, the like. Unhealthy things.
Midnight (40 minutes from now), everyone will be screaming from their dorm windows because of some weird Messiah tradition. I'll go stand outside and appreciate stuff.
Got my hair cut (really, really short). Kate asked me if I felt naked. I said not really, just cold. Then later I realized that yes, I feel naked. Not so much in the physical sense, but I could always hide behind my hair. I could refuse eye contact, I could guard my heart instead of always offering a piece of myself to people that may destroy it. Now I have no option but to be authentic, exposed, transparent.
Katina gave me The Art of Happiness by the number one US psychiatrist and the Dalai Lama. I have benefited a lot from it. She also told me much about how to appreciate a rainbow, we gotta suffer a storm. We gotta endure and observe great patience.
My life has been about patience.
I think that's what people refer to when they say, "my life sucks."
Many more ideas racing through me, but they will appear in blog form in the future. You know, like when I have time to write things. When I have time to breathe and reflect and love.
I must make time to love.
I'm being dangerously scientific.
And selfish about selflessness.
EDIT:
People are the only healing thing (no matter what pills I take)
I'm so self righteous.
My outward tranquility is a direct distortion of my inner turmoil.
But it makes you recognize hidden truths about earth. About people.
People are beautiful, and sometimes I wish I could remove everything from earth that did not matter. I would be left with people.
Bought a 60 gig panasonic 50x optical zoom video camera today (for the trip, mostly). Also, a sweet onezy with glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs.
Also manned up to some things this weekend. Miscommunicated a lot in the process. Oh well. Not that I don't care, I deeply care, but my seriousness about affairs that I think I have control over (even though I don't) has destroyed my heart in the past. External affairs beyond my decision should not alter my love and heart for Christ and my direct mission of love for people....
Been chilling in the union for hours and hours, studying for finals tomorrow but frequently distracting myself with conversations with Kate and Blake, because they are two of the most gorgeously authentic people I know.
About to go buy tons of food for our trip with my remaining campus flex dollars at the C-Store. Non-perishable items I guess: pop-tarts, chips, snack foods, the like. Unhealthy things.
Midnight (40 minutes from now), everyone will be screaming from their dorm windows because of some weird Messiah tradition. I'll go stand outside and appreciate stuff.
Got my hair cut (really, really short). Kate asked me if I felt naked. I said not really, just cold. Then later I realized that yes, I feel naked. Not so much in the physical sense, but I could always hide behind my hair. I could refuse eye contact, I could guard my heart instead of always offering a piece of myself to people that may destroy it. Now I have no option but to be authentic, exposed, transparent.
Katina gave me The Art of Happiness by the number one US psychiatrist and the Dalai Lama. I have benefited a lot from it. She also told me much about how to appreciate a rainbow, we gotta suffer a storm. We gotta endure and observe great patience.
My life has been about patience.
I think that's what people refer to when they say, "my life sucks."
Many more ideas racing through me, but they will appear in blog form in the future. You know, like when I have time to write things. When I have time to breathe and reflect and love.
I must make time to love.
I'm being dangerously scientific.
And selfish about selflessness.
EDIT:
People are the only healing thing (no matter what pills I take)
I'm so self righteous.
My outward tranquility is a direct distortion of my inner turmoil.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
i once had a chance to breathe; now one thing creates my only opportunities
Like a computer.
Wake up early.
Walk to library. No breakfast.
Bible paper.
Eat ice cream.
Walk to library.
Bible paper. Skip class.
Pick up keys.
Drive to Carlisle.
Learn songs.
Drive back. Horrible rain.
Be late.
Drive to old high school.
Do business.
Drive back.
11:32 PM. 4 more pages for Bible paper.
Like a computer without breath.
I never breathe.
I never breathe, except when I see your smile. Except when I watch your soft eyes light up this cold, hard earth as if behind this, all was tranquil. It reminds me of the few times I've put progress aside, the times my mind and soul were at peace, marveling at you. At your beautiful laugh, my body feels lighter. My awe is only due to your composure. Your authenticity. It's the only thing real on this globe, and I don't want to leave without it.
Paul's $2000 behind on tuition and is going to pick up a temporary male stripping job to pay for his portion of our trip.
He's learned a lot about Christian vocation since he arrived at Messiah.
Like a computer.
Wake up early.
Walk to library. No breakfast.
Bible paper.
Eat ice cream.
Walk to library.
Bible paper. Skip class.
Pick up keys.
Drive to Carlisle.
Learn songs.
Drive back. Horrible rain.
Be late.
Drive to old high school.
Do business.
Drive back.
11:32 PM. 4 more pages for Bible paper.
Like a computer without breath.
I never breathe.
I never breathe, except when I see your smile. Except when I watch your soft eyes light up this cold, hard earth as if behind this, all was tranquil. It reminds me of the few times I've put progress aside, the times my mind and soul were at peace, marveling at you. At your beautiful laugh, my body feels lighter. My awe is only due to your composure. Your authenticity. It's the only thing real on this globe, and I don't want to leave without it.
Paul's $2000 behind on tuition and is going to pick up a temporary male stripping job to pay for his portion of our trip.
He's learned a lot about Christian vocation since he arrived at Messiah.
Like a computer.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
foreshadows
I'm going to be traveling thousands and thousands of miles through North America's highest mountains in the winter and I can't get five miles off campus before encountering car accidents.
First, our own. Morgan and I were on our way (and left campus early at that) to another house show, this one in Frederick, Maryland. If you know anything about Pennsylvania, you know that our tax dollars don't go toward road maintenance. Also, New Jersey is the only state where the primary transfer of AIDS is by needle. Irrelevant.
Anyways, even in four-wheel drive going at the same 30 mph rate as traffic, Morgan's jeep swerved all over the road and we smacked the barrier right outside Wolf's Diner. We pulled into the parking lot, just as another guy pulled in who flew off the road because he also lost control of the wheel and went over a curb. We turned to our right to see another car facing sideways in the middle of the street. Morgan did everything she could, and we were both fine. I checked her car (pretending to know something about vehicles like a real man) and I had her drive around the parking lot to see if everything felt good with the jeep (again, pretending to be a man). We went back on our way, no real harm done.
No real harm done.
18 accidents, other than our own. That's what we counted.
Cars with front ends smacked inward like accordions, trucks laying upside-down in the middle of 15 S, flashing lights everywhere. I'm thankful for life.
One can't help but imagine the realms of heaven and hell when considering possible deaths he has just witnessed. "If only he had lived another day, he could've found Christ."
What is worse than our neglect to reach the unsaved is our pursuit of individualism. Morgan kept wondering if all the people in each accident were ok. She was concerned. Not about accidents holding up traffic making us late for the show, but about the lives of people she didn't know. I want to be more like Morgan sometimes.
And then there is the "Red Lion" coach bus that flies by the right lane traffic at 70 miles per hour. A bus filled with strangers, the driver more concerned about reaching the destination in time to make an extra buck off of doing an extra route that night. Who cares about the lives of our customers when we have their money (Blood Diamond, anyone)?
Individualism. It's the simple things too. You know, I complain about paying too much taxes and I also complain about the quality of road maintenance. Basically, I want to give you less money to do a better job at maintaining my roads. Someone else needs to work more efficiently for less compensation so I can individually benefit.
We're caught up in an idea of progress. I never think to live in the present and let life happen. I look at the clock on my cell phone for no reason.
Moses did a lot of crazy things to free his people. We all know the story (or at least have seen "Prince of Egypt," no matter how accurate or inaccurate). Maybe I'm messing up the plot real bad, but when the Israelites finally get to a point in their Exodus where they find a feeling of freedom from the Egyptian rule, they discover that Pharoah's army is chasing after them to kill them. Some guys ask if Moses did all that work to free them so that they could just die out in the desert by the sword. Some guys ask to be sent back to die in slavery. One guy complains about there only being a Burger King and no McDonald's at the next exit. But Moses shuts them all up. What he says is profound, denying the idea that you have to have control, that you can do something on your own to "make progress," that to fix something is a matter in your own hands. He says, "Be still, for the Lord will fight for you."
There once was a man who inherited a lot of money from a dead uncle. He bought an island and a Ferrari. It was a private island and sometimes he would pay hot chicks to ride in his sweet car, but he never remembered their names. They were hot though. Then he would drop them off, like a nice guy, go home, and play the latest video games on a big screen TV or chill at his private pool. He bought out some businesses and had them named after him. He was publicly known across the country for babes, luxury, money, and image. Then he died.
Ever notice the guilt of gaining something for yourself, especially something material or unessential to your existence? Ever notice the genuine pleasure of giving something you love to someone else who needs or appreciates it more?
Ever recklessly give a part of yourself to somebody at the risk of losing it or having that person destroy it? God is stupid, because he created me, and I'm a risk he shouldn't have taken if he's concerned with His emotional well-being and not having his heart played with. I'm blatently cared about at His expense. I'm an idiot and forget about Him but then later He's all like, "Now you know how to love. That it sucks but it's so worth it." I go about not loving and feeling guilty. Then I'm told to stop feeling guilty and just be authentic. I'm told to stop trying to impress God and just get on with who I am (because apparently for some reason, despite sinful nature, there's deep down a little morsal of beauty in me - even when I have all the trees but want the interesting apple).
Christ said a cool thing, that He came to serve, not to be served.
I want to receive. That is not selfish. Christ wants to serve me. Guilt (and the desire to reciprocate) can no longer be my motivation to serve other human beings.
Now I just really want to. How can I be at your service? And how can I do it without wanting a badge for being an awesome Christian? Please, take away this scoreboard of my God points and all that. Don't worry about offending me.
2:03 AM - Morgan's brother's futon. Time for sleep.
Long days are allowed to be good.
EDIT: When I woke up at Morgan's in the morning, there was a Subaru commercial on television saying that they would donate $250 to the charity of my choice if I bought a Subaru. Why? they asked, "because giving feels good." They actually said that. Apparently giving is supposed to make you feel good about yourself.
First, our own. Morgan and I were on our way (and left campus early at that) to another house show, this one in Frederick, Maryland. If you know anything about Pennsylvania, you know that our tax dollars don't go toward road maintenance. Also, New Jersey is the only state where the primary transfer of AIDS is by needle. Irrelevant.
Anyways, even in four-wheel drive going at the same 30 mph rate as traffic, Morgan's jeep swerved all over the road and we smacked the barrier right outside Wolf's Diner. We pulled into the parking lot, just as another guy pulled in who flew off the road because he also lost control of the wheel and went over a curb. We turned to our right to see another car facing sideways in the middle of the street. Morgan did everything she could, and we were both fine. I checked her car (pretending to know something about vehicles like a real man) and I had her drive around the parking lot to see if everything felt good with the jeep (again, pretending to be a man). We went back on our way, no real harm done.
No real harm done.
18 accidents, other than our own. That's what we counted.
Cars with front ends smacked inward like accordions, trucks laying upside-down in the middle of 15 S, flashing lights everywhere. I'm thankful for life.
One can't help but imagine the realms of heaven and hell when considering possible deaths he has just witnessed. "If only he had lived another day, he could've found Christ."
What is worse than our neglect to reach the unsaved is our pursuit of individualism. Morgan kept wondering if all the people in each accident were ok. She was concerned. Not about accidents holding up traffic making us late for the show, but about the lives of people she didn't know. I want to be more like Morgan sometimes.
And then there is the "Red Lion" coach bus that flies by the right lane traffic at 70 miles per hour. A bus filled with strangers, the driver more concerned about reaching the destination in time to make an extra buck off of doing an extra route that night. Who cares about the lives of our customers when we have their money (Blood Diamond, anyone)?
Individualism. It's the simple things too. You know, I complain about paying too much taxes and I also complain about the quality of road maintenance. Basically, I want to give you less money to do a better job at maintaining my roads. Someone else needs to work more efficiently for less compensation so I can individually benefit.
We're caught up in an idea of progress. I never think to live in the present and let life happen. I look at the clock on my cell phone for no reason.
Moses did a lot of crazy things to free his people. We all know the story (or at least have seen "Prince of Egypt," no matter how accurate or inaccurate). Maybe I'm messing up the plot real bad, but when the Israelites finally get to a point in their Exodus where they find a feeling of freedom from the Egyptian rule, they discover that Pharoah's army is chasing after them to kill them. Some guys ask if Moses did all that work to free them so that they could just die out in the desert by the sword. Some guys ask to be sent back to die in slavery. One guy complains about there only being a Burger King and no McDonald's at the next exit. But Moses shuts them all up. What he says is profound, denying the idea that you have to have control, that you can do something on your own to "make progress," that to fix something is a matter in your own hands. He says, "Be still, for the Lord will fight for you."
There once was a man who inherited a lot of money from a dead uncle. He bought an island and a Ferrari. It was a private island and sometimes he would pay hot chicks to ride in his sweet car, but he never remembered their names. They were hot though. Then he would drop them off, like a nice guy, go home, and play the latest video games on a big screen TV or chill at his private pool. He bought out some businesses and had them named after him. He was publicly known across the country for babes, luxury, money, and image. Then he died.
Ever notice the guilt of gaining something for yourself, especially something material or unessential to your existence? Ever notice the genuine pleasure of giving something you love to someone else who needs or appreciates it more?
Ever recklessly give a part of yourself to somebody at the risk of losing it or having that person destroy it? God is stupid, because he created me, and I'm a risk he shouldn't have taken if he's concerned with His emotional well-being and not having his heart played with. I'm blatently cared about at His expense. I'm an idiot and forget about Him but then later He's all like, "Now you know how to love. That it sucks but it's so worth it." I go about not loving and feeling guilty. Then I'm told to stop feeling guilty and just be authentic. I'm told to stop trying to impress God and just get on with who I am (because apparently for some reason, despite sinful nature, there's deep down a little morsal of beauty in me - even when I have all the trees but want the interesting apple).
Christ said a cool thing, that He came to serve, not to be served.
I want to receive. That is not selfish. Christ wants to serve me. Guilt (and the desire to reciprocate) can no longer be my motivation to serve other human beings.
Now I just really want to. How can I be at your service? And how can I do it without wanting a badge for being an awesome Christian? Please, take away this scoreboard of my God points and all that. Don't worry about offending me.
2:03 AM - Morgan's brother's futon. Time for sleep.
Long days are allowed to be good.
EDIT: When I woke up at Morgan's in the morning, there was a Subaru commercial on television saying that they would donate $250 to the charity of my choice if I bought a Subaru. Why? they asked, "because giving feels good." They actually said that. Apparently giving is supposed to make you feel good about yourself.
Monday, December 1, 2008
I'm going to die alone
"Phil, you're going to die alone"
That's what Morgan said when we were watching James Bond and I had commented on how cute and cuddly James Bond's new girlfriend in Casino Royale was. She is very attractive and I wanted to be gentle with her and I envied James for being so BA. I think this event was significant (because it reveals that I deeply desire a connection and community with another human being) and I forgot to include it in my last post. The fact that I long for an emotional intimacy and that I am unsatisfied without it, is that lust? This topic got DJ and I talking about whether romance novels can be pornography in the same way, fulfilling some kind of need at someone else's expense.
I finished Through Painted Deserts last night. So good. I love how theology is kind of thrown to the side for awhile, especially in the ending chapters, where Don just describes how brilliant and majestic God is and how many things are irrelevant. Passion pours through his writing at this point and it is authentic. Read it if you are a homosapien.
Paul made a completely new route for our trip. Looks like we are going to Colorado after all (I get to try skiing), which I am excited about. Generally, we're kind of going through the southwest and the north when we return, instead of vise versa. I like the new route. However, we will not get to spend Christmas Eve at Donald Miller's church now. Maybe someday....
That's what Morgan said when we were watching James Bond and I had commented on how cute and cuddly James Bond's new girlfriend in Casino Royale was. She is very attractive and I wanted to be gentle with her and I envied James for being so BA. I think this event was significant (because it reveals that I deeply desire a connection and community with another human being) and I forgot to include it in my last post. The fact that I long for an emotional intimacy and that I am unsatisfied without it, is that lust? This topic got DJ and I talking about whether romance novels can be pornography in the same way, fulfilling some kind of need at someone else's expense.
I finished Through Painted Deserts last night. So good. I love how theology is kind of thrown to the side for awhile, especially in the ending chapters, where Don just describes how brilliant and majestic God is and how many things are irrelevant. Passion pours through his writing at this point and it is authentic. Read it if you are a homosapien.
Paul made a completely new route for our trip. Looks like we are going to Colorado after all (I get to try skiing), which I am excited about. Generally, we're kind of going through the southwest and the north when we return, instead of vise versa. I like the new route. However, we will not get to spend Christmas Eve at Donald Miller's church now. Maybe someday....
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