This started out as a homework paper about faith...

As a Christian, there are many aspects in my life that require faith. Sometimes I wonder how non-Christians can survive some of the terrible heartaches they go through without the reassurance of Christ. Without any faith.
A few years ago my favorite uncle died. Now I know I’m not supposed to say I have a “favorite” uncle, but he was. He was the one I would get excited about when we got close to his house. He was the one who I got letters and packages from. He was the one I couldn’t wait to see, and the one that I cried about when we left. He lived next to my grandmother, so that he could mow her lawn, bring her newspaper to her, and make sure she never felt lonely. It was always the biggest part of my year to go to their house for a few weeks every summer. I loved him, and still do. The waves that he made when he was alive are still having major percussions today. Thanks to him and my grandfather, my grandma will never be in need of money. She said she planned to spend it all on her grandkids, so there wouldn’t be any left when she died, and I have no objections to that. He was always different from my other relatives. He had long red hair, followed by handlebar mustache. He lived in a trailer his entire life, right next to my grandma. He didn’t have any kids, and was never even married. I don’t know why he never married, and frankly the entire family is perplexed about that one. But he treated us as if we were his kids.
His entire existence revolved around us really. He had an odd shift at work, where he would wake up early, and be able to get off before supper time, so that he could spend time with us. We would spend the better part of the afternoon waiting on his big old van to come rumbling down the gravel road. A big old van that he drove not because he had to. After all, he had a Corvette and a Harley. No, a big old van that he drove so he could come home, get dressed, and then take us all go out for ice cream. A big old van he drove so that when we went on vacation trips, our whole family could fit. A big old van that he hooked a small TV up to the cigarette lighter in, so we could watch cartoons on long trips.
We would wait till we heard that van, rumbling down the old gravel road. And we would run to him. We would run to him, and he would always somehow be able to hug all three of us at once. Before he went in and changed out of his work clothes, before he went in and got comfortable, and took a shower. Before he did anything, he made sure we knew how much he loved us. And we knew. Everyone that knew my Uncle Galen knew how much he loved us. He would save his vacation time all year, so that for three weeks in July he could use every single bit of it on us. He would fix up the pool for us, help us build teepees and take us to the library. We knew every flavor of ice cream that Mayfield made, and he made sure we tried each one. He took us on road trips, to amusement parks, parades, museums and ship harbors. I have never experienced so much of the world than I did in three weeks in July that always seemed too short.
My uncle was not a poor man. Not in the least. But instead of getting a nice house for himself, or even a HOUSE, he lived in a trailer. He lived in a hand-me-down trailer to stay close to his mother. He wore hand-me-down clothes so he could save money in her bank account. He drove hand-me-down cars so that he could splurge for three weeks in July.
If someone were to ask me who the most selfless man I knew was, there would be no hesitation. If someone were to ask me who the most caring man I knew was, there would be no hesitation. If someone were to ask me who the most loving man I knew was, there would be no hesitation.
And then all of the sudden, this man among men began to fade from my life. He was diagnosed with kidney cancer, and by the time they found out, it was too late. That sounds dramatic, but it is 100% true. Kidney cancer has no outward signs, and when you find out you have kidney cancer, you find out your entire body has cancer. He knew this. He was not uninformed of his situation, he was not in the dark. He knew exactly what was happening to his body. And he knew what he needed to do.
He began putting his money in an account set apart for his mother. He invited us up to his house, and we had the time of our lives. He did not take it sitting down, and he made sure we were never happier. Eventually, he began to get weak. My mother did not want us to be there during this time, but she would occasionally go and check on him. It ended up being a good thing that he lived so close to my grandma, because he moved back in with her. He began to lose weight, and started spending more time in bed. Eventually they were under the impression that it was “time”. Such a dark and meaningless way of putting it. They believed that he was in his last few days, and my mother went to be with him. But as always he surprised us. He lived longer than they believed possible, and I think it was so that he could see his nephews and niece one last time. So Hallmark can sue me. We went up to grandma’s house to see him, and a few days later, my favorite uncle passed on. He just laid on his bed, went to sleep, and woke up in heaven. I was in the neighbors yard with my brother jumping on the trampoline when they told me. My brother ran to my dad and I just sat there. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Fifteen minutes earlier, I had held his hand. Told him it was alright. That things were going to be alright.
I had complete faith in God that He would heal my uncle. Never for a second during the entire ordeal did I think God would take him. I fully trusted God that my uncle would get better. I heard what the doctor said. I saw the tubes attached to him. I saw the bed he had to lie in. I saw how skinny he was. I saw all of that, and still I was 100% sure, I was completely positive that my uncle would get better.
It took me a long time after the funeral to realize that he did get better. I know that’s what everyone says, but its true. God healed my uncle in ways I can’t even begin to imagine. And He showed me that my faith was not misplaced. He showed me that faith is not trusting that God will do something for you. Faith is trusting God. Period.

Sonrise

The horizon does not end with your eyesight. You can look, and see as far as you can see. You can climb on your roof, you can even climb a mountain. You can look, and use binoculars, and stare until your eyes hurt. But you will never see the end of the horizon. You can drive a thousand miles, and fly a thousand more, and you will never come to the end of the horizon. Its always the farthest point you can see. Its always just over that hill, or just beyond that mountain. The horizon is always in front of you, always close enough to see, but far enough to keep trying to reach. And that’s what we do. Stretch, and strive for the horizon. Climb the next mountain, take the next plane, run the next mile, reach for the future. And when we stop, stop climbing and running and striving. When we stop searching, and chasing. When we stop shooting for the horizon, we end up turning around. Looking at what we’ve done, being content with it, and looking behind us. Building a home is good. Having a good job, and a loving family, those are good things. But when we stop chasing the horizon, the one thing that’s always just out of reach. The one thing that houses our dreams that we continually strive for. When we stop chasing that, we give up the fight. We close our eyes, and turn our back on the horizon. And we forget. We forget that the Son always rises on the horizon.

Darkness

The sky is black,
Its never blue,
Just close your eyes,
you’ll see its true.

Darkness washes over you,
Rushing like a flood,
It steals your breath away,
It chills your very blood.

You trip and fall,
On even ground,
And not one is near,
To hear a sound.

You choke upon its stench,
Slowly impounding you now,
Dropping you to your knees,
It forces you to bow.

You can smell its vile breath,
As it whispers in your ear,
You feel yourself draining,
As it feeds upon your fear.

Your strength has all but gone,
You know your tomb awaits,
When you look upwards and glance,
The one thing Darkness hates.

With your slowly gasping lips,
You cry a silent plea,
But the Light seems to hear,
You once again can see.

A single Hand you glimpse,
In an instant Darkness shattered,
The Hand it hoists you up,
As if nothing around you mattered.

Your sin the Light can see,
Nothing can hide from His sight,
And yet He pulls you closer,
Further towards the Light.

The Light knows no bounds,
He has no time nor space,
And yet He came to find you,
In that filthy vile place.

When you sank below your strength,
Struggled with all your might,
When you choked upon the Darkness,
When you had given up the fight.

He found you deep below,
Lost, in need of love,
He came after His creation,
He lifted you up above.

Your eyes are spotless now,
Your lungs are crisp and clean,
You walk on even ground,
But now on HIM you lean.

A.A.A.

The words ‘Adaptability’ and ‘Apathy’ are almost the same. They both start with A, and end with Y. But in between, there are thousands of excuses, arguments, discussions and dialogue concerning the difference. The ability to adapt to your surroundings is a good one. You can become comfortable in the most difficult situations. You can smile in the face of adversity, and bounce back after even the most devastating blows. While others crumble under the weight of their circumstances around you, you adapt and move on. You continue without batting an eye, live your life any way you can, and continue as you were. Some people may think you are heartless, unobservant, and indifferent, when in reality you are the exact opposite. You observe everything, and take it all in quietly. You care about what goes on in your life, but have the sense to know when things cannot be changed. You do not allow things to happen, but when they do, you accept them as a fact of life. In this way, you can bear what many others cannot shoulder. In this way, you are able to move on.
Apathy many times disguises itself as adaptability. It convinces us that life is life and we must go with the flow. It tells us that things cannot be changed, for better or worse. They must remain etched in stone, and we must watch as our life flies by. It often tell us we are adapting, but we aren’t. We aren’t living our lives, or affecting our surroundings to better ourselves. We are waiting for the next big event to rouse us from our apathy for a brief moment. You have to be careful with these two words. They are easily mistaken for one another, and you must show the world which one you are. I have to be careful of these A words, because Adam starts with A too…

IF by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

walk on the water, or swim in the sand?

Question:

Walk on the water?
Or swim in the sand?
Tough one isn’t it? Mainly because it doesn’t make sense. Neither of those things are possible. You can not walk on water, nor swim in sand. Perhaps the other way around, but no. the question is stupid. Well, you know when you see famous quotes that are short, and insightful? They make you think a lot without saying much? I’m trying that. So choose. Walk on the water, or swim in the sand? Those are really the only two options for your life. Now sand, although not the most reliable ground, can still be walked on. You can walk on the beach, stand in a little kids sandbox, and sit in a box of kitty litter. I have no idea why, but what you do is your business. But see, you can walk on sand. You can grab a handful of it, and build a castle, or throw it at someone. It’s tangible, you can feel it, hold it. But besides making sandcakes, what else is sand good for? You can sell it to preschools, and you can put it in a bottle for a souvenir, but what else? Can you build a house? Can you feed it to your pets? Can it sustain life? Not really. Sand is just that: sand. In life, you have things that are meaningful, and things that are sand. You have school and video games. Salad and triple chocolate chunk ice cream. Homework and backyard football. Now, these things that are sand, they’re fun, right? Just like building a sand castle, and burying your brother. They’re fun, but like sand, it doesn’t last. Eventually the tide comes in, and eventually your mom yells at you. It was fun while it lasted but, your just standing there. Just treading water, staying in the same spot, not progressing, not digressing, just playing in the sand. Now, on the other hand, you can walk on water. Something that is physically impossible, scientifically impossible, impossible in any way or any dimension. Unlike sand, you sink in the water. You can’t hold it, and make things with it, or let your cat use it as a restroom. But nonetheless, it is still vital. Everything on this planet that lives, needs water. It keeps us hydrated, keeps us healthy, it sustains life. When you have water, you have life. Water is useful, school, salad, and homework, right? And walking means that you are progressing towards a certain mark. The fridge, the mailbox, the car. But how can we walk on water? We look to God. When peter looked at Jesus, he could walk on water. He could do the impossible, and progress towards his mark, his point of interest, his Lord. When he looked to God, he could spread the water of life, he could do the impossible. Those are really the only two options in your life. Tread water in your fun, neither go forward or back, and be happy making houses in the sand. Or do the impossible. Walk where men fear, look nowhere but forwards, progress in usefulness, water the thirsty. Take your pick. Walk on the water, or swim in the sand?

Insane!!

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results each time. Not technically, but basically. If you do a gainer into a pool and break your nose, chances are you’ll break your nose again if you continue to do gainers. Which is why I do not do gainers. By this definition, I know many, many insane people. My dog. He runs when his leash is on, chokes himself, then does it again. My gerbil is constantly trying to chew through the same piece of hard plastic. Every night. My cat sits on my lap while I’m reading, and I throw her off. Then here she comes again. Now, this does not only apply to my unobservant house pets. This applies to all of mankind. Build a house on a beach, is slides off. Build a bigger house on the beach. It still slides off. What I’m trying to get at, is that men have been at this for years. Since the beginning of time, when cavemen froze to death for not inventing clothes. Mankind is certainly delusional. We buy nice cars. Very shiny, with loud engines and a bunch of cool parts that I don’t know the name of. But now look, my heart is mad at me cause my house costs less than my car. Okay, well lets climb the corporate extension ladder, and work weekends. Now we’ve bought a new house, it has shag carpet, a leather sofa, and I giant rotating bed. Now our heart is filled. Wait, that huge yard in the back… it’s missing a boat. Okay, now work late into the night. Okay, got a boat. Now your heart is mad at you. Why on earth would you buy a boat without buying j.crew boating attire?! Okay, bring your work home with you and work on it in the morning. There ya go, you have a nice car. A beautiful home. A giant boat. And stylish shorts that need a little more length. Is your heart happy? No, you have to top yourself don’t you? See, let me show you what happened. You had a longing. Even though you had a good running car. Even though your apartment was snug enough for you. Even though you could fish from the pier. Even though you had t-shirts from the half off section of wal-mart. You had a little longing that wanted to top itself. To continue to fill the hole with people, and things. We’re all born with a hole you see. One that only Jesus can fill. Now, before you read this and say “I’m already saved. Who cares.” finish it up. I am not talking to the unsaved people. I am talking to Christians. Yes, you may have been saved before you could go to school, but you still have a hole. See, this hole is easy to mistake for something else. A girl. Or a car. Or shag carpet. And every time that she leaves and breaks your heart, or the engine stalls, or a kid spills grape juice, you see it again. You catch a glimpse of that hole, and you think you need another girl. Or a better car. Or a darker carpet. But the hole was there for something else. You’ve been filling it your whole life with uselessness. And you never see it. Your chest aches, and you think it’s cause of the car payment. It took me years to figure out why that little hole was there, no matter what came and went. But now I found out. I’m sure it won’t be easy to keep empty for Him. I know it will be a struggle, and maybe the legend of Zelda will take over sometimes. But remember when you lose your car, or the game gets scratched, or your girl leaves you, the hole is there for a special reason. Put something special in there.

Community Kitchen Fun

The community kitchen is a fun place. Now, I understand how some people would assume the opposite. But if you go down there, and serve those people, just try not to smile. It’s impossible. The stories you hear, the people you see, it’s just a great experience. This morning my mother woke me up at an ungodly hour as usual. I sat up and took the better part of three minutes to realize where I was. Wiping away the crust that had accumulated around my eyeball was a difficult task at 5:57. Throwing on a shirt and just making it into my shoes, I fought the urge to sit down. And close my eyes… And go to sleep… I was unsuccessful. As I awoke the second time, my mother offered words of encouragement as she escorted me out the door and into the van. You would think that at this time of year that it would be hot in the morning. It’s hot in the day. It’s hot in the evening. It’s hot at night. It’s hot when you wake up from having that same scary, recurring dream at 1:43. But in the morning? Nooooo, let’s throw a curveball and slap everyone in the face when they try and go serve hungry people. Very discouraging. Anyway, I don’t remember the ride over there. But when we did get there, my mother began to greet the people on the street, the people on the sidewalk, the guy holding the door open, the guy making the grits, the guy that greeted her. I grunted a greeting as well, and I believe I made myself very clear. First order of business was turkey. Now, please realize that up until twenty minutes ago, I was unaware I would even be here this morning. I am tired, half awake, unsure which part of my dream was real last night, and moving very slow. So the head guy in charge naturally tells us to prep turkeys. Not to brag or anything, but I’m a pretty mean turkey prepper. I prepped about twenty turkeys one day, with very little help. But, as previously mentioned, this is not day. This is morning. So, of course being the muscular chap I am, I had to haul the turkey bags from the sink to their final resting place. There was a hole in the bag, and I hope that the blood did not stain the floor. I then proceeded to cut open the bags, exposing the cold, dead flesh of the hefty young foul. My mother than proceeded to reach into what used to be the neck, and remove a bag. I knew the contents of this bag, but was lucky enough never to have seen it for myself. But then, at that terrible moment, the bag tore, and I was staring at it. The neck, a slimy tube I could hardly believe could support a head, resembled a large, bloody, bloated, dead worm. The lungs and/or kidneys which looked just like lungs and/or kidneys, only smaller and covered in blood. He was obviously not a donor. And the heart. The poor little meaty thing that had kept blood running through this young turkey, had allowed him to gobble, to spread his tail feathers and attract ladies. To power his legs that obviously did him no good in escaping the hand/machine that had ended his life, and in his prime, no doubt, as the bag stated. It was really gross. We washed turkeys, held back bile, and removed the life-giving organs of these poor beasts. After that was done, and a long hand washing had ensued, I went to the front lines to serve toast. Now, the thing you should know is on the line, you are exposed to EVERYTHING. Comments: On your hair, smile, apron, and anything else they can see from the waist up. Questions: “you got sugar?”
“you got salt?”
“where‘s the milk?”
“what‘s your name”
“why is this burnt?”
“why don‘t you cook with sugar?”.
Complaints: “there‘s no sugar!”
“they started a fight!”
“I need to talk to Miss Vera!”
“this food is cold!”
“why don‘t you cook with sugar?!”
But, it is still enjoyable. Passing out bread to the patrons, hearing their life’s stories, and today, hearing multiple versions of how a building burned down. From what all I heard, this is what was believed to have happened: There was a short, skinny white guy who no one knew the name of. He was drunk, and high, and decided to light a pile of clothes on fire for an unknown reason. There also happened to be spray paint cans in the building, along with quite a few more highly flammable objects. These exploded under the heat, and the building went down quite quickly. When the police arrived, they located the perpetrator. They then used night sticks to beat him to death, after which the ambulance workers used the defibrillator to bring the poor soul back to life, only to incarcerate him afterwards. Last night was quite a night I suppose. After we had served nigh a hundred and fifty patrons, I grabbed a granola bar, a soda, and headed home. My mother was skeptical of the true story of the building fire, but I really believe it. A skinny white guy. Blew it up. Then got beat to death. And brought back to life. Like law and order. I was drifting away on the way home, and when I got back I crawled right back into bed and picked up where I left off. The funny thing is, I’m not entirely sure what has actually happened today, and what was a dream… I guess I’ll ask the blue elephant that’s doing the spelling check for me.

Wisdom

What is wisdom? We hear people tell us how wise we are when we give advice. Or what a wise decision fast food restaurants made by creating a dollar menu. But what is real wisdom? In our world today, people get confused between being smart, and being wise. There are many, many smart people in this world. But considerably less wise people. The dictionary on my word processor defines smart as “showing intelligence and mental alertness.” Wise, on the other hand is defined: “able to make sensible decisions and judgments on the basis of personal knowledge and experience. Sensible, learned and shrewd.”
Now, besides the fact that this definition is considerably longer and with larger words, what’s the difference? The difference: I can sit up straight in class, listen politely, study hard and earn a good grade. I can follow the rules of success, earn a large salary, support my family, and have a good life. Or, I can sit up straight in class, listen politely, study hard and earn a good grade. I can discern when I should purchase a large yacht, and when I should pay tithe. I can determine when my children need to hear the score of the Sunday football game, and when they need to hear the word of God. I can sit up straight in church, and instead of smiling politely, I can have a determined frown on my face, writing down what the preacher says and studying over it. Being smart is knowing what the world knows. Being smart is taking the world’s words and teachings, and learning them. Being wise is knowing what God knows. Taking His words, and His teachings, and learning of Him. Anyone can be smart. Anyone can be wise. You just have to choose which one to be.

$_$

So here is a twenty dollar bill. Nice and crisp, just got it from the gas station, okay? So I know you want this, right? You could buy a lot of candy with it, or some movie tickets, or whatever you want, as long as it’s under twenty bucks. BUT, what if I decided to crumple it up? Yeah, not nice and crisp, now it looks like its been stuck in my wallet for a year. It’s not nice looking, and since I didn’t mash my hands today, a little bit dirty. But you still want it? Okay, okay, I’m gonna do something bad to it. Throw it down, step on it, man, I’m gonna rub dirt on it and everything. NOW look. Dirty, messed up, nasty, and looking like it went through WWII. None of you can POSSIBLY want this now, right? I mean, look, you can’t even tell that it’s a twenty anymore. But what’s that? It still IS a twenty? You’re telling me that even though it’s dirty, and nasty looking, it’s still worth the same amount to you? Wow. Maybe that’s how God feels, right? Even though you look totally different from what you started out as, and you’re all messed up, He still knows how much you’re worth. He can still use you to buy twenty dollars worth of stuff. You are still valuable. Pretty neat.