Autumns Hesitation

Fall came the other day. I knew it was here because the air was chilled and the rain poured down as I drove to work. Fall is such a gloomy time. It’s not really something that we ask for. Its more like something that we just find ourselves in, you know? It lends itself to responsibility and schedules; as apposed to summers’ care free long days, late nights spent strolling the pier, watching movies with friends, or conversing about life and ministry and anything that lands in-between. Fall is the essence of real life. We work because we need money. We need money because we need to live and have some sort of social life. We do ministry… I’d like to say that we do ministry because we love it, but sometimes I wonder if we don’t find some sense of belonging there. Like what we are doing with our lives actually counts for something, and me helping out or leading somehow makes me part of a bigger, majestic sized masterpiece. I’d love to be part of something majestic. Actually, I just like to be a part- of anything really.

Tomorrow

Tell me. when did we stop believing in people? When did circumstances, attitudes, events, behaviors, when did these thing cause me to give up hope? when did we stop believing in people? When did I start letting the present outweigh the sense of destiny in my spirit? That urgency that says tomorrow is coming, and it bring good things. "Keep doing what's right, My justice is on it's way, and My salvation is about to come" (see Is 56) The outsiders come into the House. The ones who thought they would never fit, they get to come in. I love that promise. The outsiders coming into the family. They become a part. That's the end of the story. Don't you love knowing the end? Cause sometimes the plot line along the way turns and confuses me. Sometimes circumstances, attitudes, events, behaviors... sometimes those things make me wanna stop believing. Sometimes the battle seems lost, and I don't want to fight at all. But I believe in people. And I believe in tomorrow. So i'll keep on believing.

words

there are somethings that can't be put into words. somethings that perhaps shouldn't be. there are people who speak who could push until a thousand words come out and still mean nothing. they are the kinda people who talk with their brain. That person who says much and his words become common, and common is worth very little.

then there are the kind of people who can say very little, and say it very simply and with that, they capture everything needed at that moment. those are the kinda people i love. they are the ones that talk with their heart. the wise man who will hold his tongue, and at the right moment, fire with such precision, that all who hear will admire and revere. His words are valued and desired. this is the man i love.

morning light

The sky looks beautiful this morning. So beautiful I couldn't leave this moment with out mention. The early sun is like brilliant amber, and it brushes the clouds with hard strong light. A kaleidoscope of birds flew over head, and i'm ever left in wonder of how they do it. time passed and the orange tones of morning turn to white shades of blue, and day went on... morning light

left without balance

i think im gonna try n start something new, not sure how long it will last, but it's a search for music. I can't find music. Not the kind i want anyways. but i think my criteria is a little...well..
here:
christian but not "la la"
good "victorious" lyrics, but not cheesy
more on the side of rock... heavy
but even now as i get into describing genre i loose interest. i just think that there must be music that i love, and i don't know it yet. Music always seems to be left without balance. When we get to heavy, we sound angry, and im not angry. but if we are not heavy, the music seems lame, and often, lyrics to fit the same category. anyways this week is being sponsored my: pillar & blindside, each leaving much to be desired.

THRILL OF YOUR LIFE

Perhaps there are things that should not transcend cultures....

Un themed love

Perhaps Christmas just isn't for people like me. I mean, I enjoy ...the finer things in life. I enjoy...well let's get straight to the point. I enjoy when things are decorated nicely. Coordinating colors, themes. You know, nice stuff. Yet Christmas comes and there this barrage of colors that are all so loud, it's like they're yelling at me. None of them get along, and, if you live in my house, none of them are from the same decade. Ornaments from years past seem to make it to our tree each year, and each year I contemplate breaking them by "accident" so we can get new ones. I've been putting up nicknacks on our windowsills and mantels. My mom calls them decorations. Again, it feels like a collage of stuff gathered from all ends of the earth. Different things I made in grade school are on the hearth hanging out with any random Christmas oriented gifts we've collected in years past. I suppose it's something about sentimental value. I'm putting up these decorations, few of which i like and something starts to happen as I look around, and it looks different than before. Tackier, yes, but more than that. It feels kinda warm. Like love had spilled over into those crafts, and thought had spilled over into those gifts. I try to shake the sentimental moment-- But it stayed. I kind still feel it now, as I look around at mismatched care and un-themed love. It feels kinda like warm, and kinda like home. Maybe, just maybe Christmas is for people like me after all.

to sir, without love

I hate time. I hate worshiping the clock, looking for it's approval, bowing down like some sort of idiot, unable to fend for myself. Unable to make my own decisions. I hate the feeling of rushed. I hate the feeling of timed. I hate time. I hate thinking about how long im taking, how much time i have left. I hate thinking about the next thing to do while still in the middle of this..... the sun rose this morning (after I did mind you) (the clock said it was time to get up) and it went down today too, just like i'll go to sleep. But i wish I could go to sleep now. but i have stuff to do. it's not time yet.

exerpts from donald miller

When you are a speaker and a writer, you aren't supposed to watch television. It's shallow. I felt guilty because for a long time i didn't allow myself a television, and I used to drop that fact in conversation to impress people. I thought it made me sound dignified. I couple of years ago however, I visited a church in the suberbs, and there was the blowhard precher talking about how watching television rots you brain. He said that when we are watching television, we our minds are working no harder than when we are sleeping. I thought that sounded heavenly. I bought one that afternoon.

--donald miller, blue like jazz

sauna

there are many reasons I love my heritage. One of those reasons is the sauna. 'cause there is nothing like sweating my own sweat and knowing that i did absolutely nothing to get it there.

canvas

ok, so it's been months since ive been here. so what. i guess i had nothing worth telling, a joke is only funny once....or at least it should only be funny once.

Acctually, i've been thinking about art recently. How an artists mind works, seemingly so complex, so beautiful. I wish i was more artsy. i have always wished that. i think i would be if i took the time to show it. I think the only thing I wanted to say here, but can''t find a creative way to say it is that we express things in art that we feel but would never dare admit in real life. It's as if a canvas of any medium becomes a reality to which we can speak freely knowing the deaf ears that hear our complaints.

like a sale at the brick

Miss ..ter

Working at CK, you meet a lot of people. Most are kind older English gentlemen who call you dear, or sweetie. This past week I had a slightly less honest experience. Two ladies sat down and I went to greet them and I complimented one on their bracelets. Bangals , like from india. I like that sort of thing. The thank you to my compliment rang clear in my ears. A deep hearty thank you. It sent shivers down my spine.

The ladies were homely looking. Awkward almost. I would have set them in the catagory of "the awkward people of the world" (perhaps another blog for another time) yet that 'thank you'... Alright, they were more than homely. They were ugly. Down-right-not-pretty-people. Perhaps they were...no, never mind.

I began to judge myself for making such a judgment call. To question someones gender is perhaps the lowest blow to take on someones looks. Yet the "thank you" ...the homeliness...

If they really were that ugly, to spend their time with each other would be the smartest thing to do. I'm sure they would never marry..because ...well...ok, maybe if they met a blind guy. So to spend an evening together out for dinner...

I spent a better part of their stay wondering and finally, after observing their painted toe nails and lovely anklets, I asked the manager, and sure enough, they had been their before, and they were as I thought. Mr & Mr. sick.

Steele the best (by JAK)

film making. it's what I love, it's what, when I get a chance, I do. This "interest" of mine has left me as what I would call a critic. Therefore this review has been written by Jak.

Seraphim Falls. Liam Neeson, Peirce Brosnan, Destination Films 2006. I have to admit, I only wanted to watch this film for one reason. I enjoyed Remington Steele...alright-- i indulged in it. So a new film with Peirce in it caught my attention. Though he's not the dashing young chap he was, I wanted to see what my 1980's hero was up to on the small screen. (as far as I know, it never made it to the "big screen" thank goodness) Unaware of any sort of plot line any sort if idea what this Seraphim fall held in store, I purposed to see it. I sat down today and wasted a good couple hours of my life. The movie starts out with liam chasing peirce through the wilderness. I figure, interesting opening, not telling us why, but letting us see the chase. A few minutes go by. Still very little action, very little reason. Those minutes turn into 1 hour and 20 minutes of chase before we find out why. that's over 2/3rds of the film. Now aleast for the rest of the chase we know what it's about. And he continues chasing him. that's it. That is the movie. It was boring , it was long. It was aweful, to say the least.

I always said I didn't like Peirce, I only like Remington. Now, I know why. He was the best. I suppose they just don't make peirce...I mean movies like they used to.

you know you're in whtiehorse for a while when...

your van is indefinatley in the shop.... there's no place like home.... there's no place like home.... there's no place like home....

You know youre in the yukon when...

there are no sinlge misquitos here in white horse. they are all married and have big families.

You know you live in BC when....

you know that the only thing past Hope is Hell's gate.
(and williams lake....)
(and I suppose I should mention north country and the Yukon where I am going in 2 sleeps.)
(ok it was just geographical humor....)

THANK YOU

this is a special thank you for all my fans who thew a surprise b-day party for me on my 2 weeks before I turn 19 day. You guys rock. Grey owl all the way. Oh hey, know what I never thought of..Robin Crusoe. (or however you say that)

later

you order a pizza?

I've been told that I should not go "looking for boys" I've been told I should just wait. "You never know, perhaps one day God will drop on on your doorstep"....but...you know... I don't think I want to marry the postman, or the pizza guy for that matter.

Santa Baby

Two boys were walking home from Sunday school after hearing a strong
sermon on the devil.
One said to the other, "What do you think about all this Satan stuff?"
The other boy replied, "Well, you know how Santa Claus turned out.
It's probably just your Dad."