Talking Muffins

Well it has been quite some time hasn't it? I have attempted to get on here and blog several times. I actually started like three different posts and scrapped them about two sentences in. I wasn't sure why that was. I've had a lot weighing down on me, and I felt like I really wanted to talk about those issues in my posts. I just never could get a handle on them when I started writing. I tried just starting with how I was doing, but even this seemed entirely too complicated. What's changed since then? I've gotten really busy. Being busy kinda numbs me a bit; it's how I deal with stress. I block everything else out and become a task oriented machine. When I do this I'm able to really not care as much about what I'm doing. This sounds terrible I know, but it's almost a whimsical felling. It's not as if I really don't care; I just become detached. In a nearly flighty manner I simply do. It's how I stay sane. I quit thinking as much and just do what's right in front of me. Tomorrow can wait its turn.

What does this have to do with me blogging all of a sudden. Well my light hearted, detached frame of mind has put a little space between me and my problems. They might come out in this post, they might be completely ignored while I choose instead to tell a joke about talking muffins.

I am a very self-contradictory person. I'm an engineer, a linear thinker, someone who likes everything to have its place in a systematic and manageable way. Yet I am a romantic, a mystic, and an idealist. I love to be swept up in something bigger than me. I love to see freedom, beauty, truth, and love conveyed in a simple, raw, and unabashed way. I love getting embarrassingly giddy about stuff. Sometimes I think people are just way too cool, too afraid to show their real feelings to people. I love to screw being intellectual and modern, critical and elitist, all for the sake of being kind to someone; I love seeing people get along. I love happy endings. People say they're sick of happy endings; my life will have a happy ending. This world will have a happy ending. I heard once that creation was groaning and eargerly awaiting for the sons of God to be revealed; sounds big. All things said I'm quite content with my head in the clouds of romantic happy endings.

While this contradicting quality makes for the comicaly confused clown that I am, there is a rub. Many times the idealistic world simply can't fit into a reasonable and systematic mold (although C.S. Lewis comes the closest to marrying the two worlds off). I have found myself in one such situation as of late.

A little ways into the fall semester I became very passionate about finding a church home for college students. I believed college students could "change the world." In fact I was witnessing them doing it. I watched as my friends poured their hearts out into the lives of others through the church we grew up with and other ministries. They were transforming the world, one person at a time. However, I didn't see anyone pouring into them. There is a big push where I come from for college students to stand up on there own two feet. "No one needs to take you by the hand any more." While I see that this is true, there is a lot of standing up on your own that is inherent in becoming a college student. And as I watched students attempt to do this, I saw a problem. Many of the on campus ministries are wonderful, but they are mobilization style ministries. These ministries serve as a pushing force behind students urging them forward. As I watched others try to stand with forces behind them and a goal ahead, they quickly fell because their was nothing below them. The foundation was pulled from under their feet. What was missing was a church home.

Without droning on much longer with details, for a list of reasons I could not possibly fit in here, we moved forward with a college ministry at my home church. A foundation that students could stand on, and a place that I believe God did wonders through this year. Fact is, some of my friends faced some tough times this year, and no, they didn't need anyone to hold their hand. They needed someone to hold them close and carry them for a while. They needed the Body of Christ.

Now for the rub. We don't have the resources for a college ministry. We don't have a building to meet in next fall. We don't have any money for a staff position. My church is about to go from 3 student services to 6. I'm nothing special as a worship leader. Below average singer, sub-par guitar player, and I'm rubbish at talking in front of people. However, as far as numbers go they need as many people as they can get in the non-college student services. It just doesn't make sense to spend hours on 25 college students when the same amount of time could go to 1000 or something 6-12 grade students. None of it seems to add up. If it's about being good stewards of resources, college ministry might not be where it's at. But I believe in this. I believe God could do something great in it.

I don't know where I'm going. Not now, not tomorrow, not five years from now. It's terrifying. I want to be a part of something grand. But what if I forget what I'm working for. I'm terrified that I'll find myself running to stand still. But for now all I know to do is just put my head down and keep moving forward.

Now for talking muffins.
Two muffins are in an oven, and one says, "Whoa! It's hot in here!" and the other one says, "Oh my gosh! It's a talking muffin!"
Have a great day.

Greetings from the Rockies

Hey guys, just wanted to say hi and see if I can incite some envy. I just spent three days in Colorado with my Dad. It's beautiful! We got to ski and just hang out. Hope everybody's having a great break. Have a Happy New Year and God Bless.

















This is Lake Keystone.















What can I say? I'm good with a camera.

Waiting for Noon, December 10th, 2005, or perhaps 4 years from now

This is pathetic. It's eleven something on Friday night, my last final is tomorrow at 10 am, and I have to make an A on the final to have an A in the class. I've been studying for 5 hours, and this is my excuse to get away from studying for a moment. I hate this feeling. I think I'd rather just take the B and be done with it. I just don't like doing this very much. Yes, college is lightyears above and beyond high school, but that doesn't make it walking through a field of flowers while fairies fan your face. Please forgive the ridiculousness of that last sentence while taking note of the cheap and poorly used alliteration. I guess I just need a break.

Roland Out!

Waiting for Sunrise

Levon wears his war wound like a crown and calls his child Jesus, 'cause he likes the name. He sends him to the finest school in town. Levon likes his money; he makes a lot they say. He spends his days counting in a garage by the motorway. He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day when the New York Times said God is dead, and the war's begun. Alvin Tostig has a son today.

Where do we really fit in? Will the footprints we leave in the sand be washed away before we have time to retrace our steps to find the answer? Imagine one night you awoke to a frightening storm. What if, as you stare out the window and hours pass by, you come to a terrifying conclusion: the sun is not coming back to rescue you. You know that the predicted sunrise is only an hour away, but it's so cold, so dark all around. Surely there's no reason to think the sun isn't coming back like it promsied, but why can't you see any sign. You hear the squeeking as the walls shake just a little from the relentless wind. It seems insane, but this time you really are sure that you are left in the dark for good. The possibilities race through your mind of what life in the dark would really mean. "Generators for light and heat, ultimate games might be harder to arrange. Ultimate? Life itself will be harder to arrange! Nearly impossible! It's all lost! This is ridiculous, what am I thinking? This couldn't be! But what if?"
It all seems ridiculous from the outside; it's even ridiculous 60 minutes later when that golden orb rises up in the horizon and warmth hits your face as the clouds roll away. But for those few moments, life is terrifying. Sometimes the things of this world darken the horizon; we begin to think that everything we do goes unnoticed by anyone in the universe. We begin to wonder if God actually hears us, and we wonder what life without the Son would hold for us. Those make for some very unsettling moments as we try to come to grips with how many details and comforts, the very meaning of our lives would be lost without God. Once the clouds clear, we realize how weak our faith was, but inside we know, another storm is just around the corner. In times like these, there is not much one can do but be still and wait. When you can't see the sun, find the moon. If the sun is not shining on you, it's shining on someone else. Be lifted up; the break of dawn is just around the corner.

Giving Yourself Away

Well I had posted this on the CFP blog, but it clearly got no exposure there. I've had quite a bit on my mind lately. I think I may be going through what some would call a crisis of faith. That may not be the right term, but something big is happening. I can't really put my finger on it, so I won't say too much. I can tell you this, what I believe is in no way in danger. It has more to do with how I'm supposed to respond to what I believe, how my faith is supposed to flesh out. This first semester in college has shown me lot about who I am, and I'm feeling a bit exposed. All of this is only to say I've been learning a lot, some at a pace that I cannot dream of keeping up with. Today I would like to share with you all one lesson I have been learning that seems quite elementary, but like all things of principle relevance carries a depth that demands more extensive reflection.

Facebook is a glorious thing. It connects people in ways that we could not have dreamed of only a short while ago. Many of you grew up together; you experienced elementary school through high school together with the joys and pangs of adolescence scattered throughout. My growing up was slightly more fragmented. I went to public school in Conway from 1st to 3rd grade, and then went the route of homeschooling and eventually a small Christian school. Finally, in 6th grade my family moved to Northwest Arkansas, where I attended junior high at Shiloh Christian and then Springdale High School. I know it's nothing near the quick amount of change that one hears about in military families and the sort, but I think in some respects, this was worse. I was in each environment for either 3 or 4 years; this gave me just enough time to develop some close ties before they were cut off. I found my life existing in multiple worlds. Each of these existed with different characters and themes, and each of these faded to an evanescent memory that would rarely be revisited.

Enter facebook. Out of seemingly nowhere, friend requests show up coupled with messages of "Holy crap, it's been like 40 years!" With each of these requests, at least a dozen memories resurface, and I am faced with the daunting reality that the worlds that I have left behind did not cease to exist and grow upon my parting. I can't tell you how many names I have clicked on expecting a 4th grade face to appear before me. Yet these faces have grown into those of a nearly adult world, and each one seems to carry the story of its coming of age. Though not my primary lesson to take home, it was a subtle reminder that the world does not revolve around me. I have a tendency to ignore the weight of events that do not directly affect me, to the point that I am completely unaware that they take place at all.

However, these faces carry another small miracle. Upon one glance at a face I’ve not seen in years, those misty memories begin to take shape. I am suddenly back on the bark turfed playground, running to the monkey bars. This was where Hunter and I would hang out. We would grab one bar and perform our magic. Each foot was thrown upward to catch the bar ahead. We would then pull our torsos to the sky and slide each elbow on top of the wooden frame. Finally, we forced our 7 year old frames through the foot and a half gap between bars. Here we found our thrones, our tower on which we could oversee the chaotic world below.

This memory is a simple one. It has no strong emotional attachments. However, as I looked on the faces of my best friends of the year before I moved away, I was reminded of my last day in Conway. I was always kind of an odd-ball, but at Conway Christian School, I really fit in. For possibly the first time in my life I really felt like I belonged. Then it was taken away from me. I have not dwelt on the memory of my last day in Conway much since then. I have scarcely recalled the memory that tells of my friends’ farewell. In fact with each passing day the lines that separate the bodies from the air between them had blurred. I could only see that which was once a long goodbye in a few frames of flashback, and they’re all in third person. Isn’t that odd; think back on a memory from years ago. You will likely see yourself standing there, acting out the scene. Have the years of separation caused us to completely loose the images that our eyes gave to us? Nonetheless, this was all I had retained from that day, until I again saw the faces. The inundation of emotions and sensations hit me in an instant. I can now remember the exact glaze in a few friends’ eyes, the saltiness in my throat that I fought down.

It was a cold, cloudy day in January; everything carried a blue hue. At the private school, we all had on our navy pleated pants and gray school sweatshirts. I don’t believe guys had really gotten to the point of being comfortable with a good hug yet, making the whole thing quite awkward. We would look at each other and spout out ready made phrases, “I’ll be back to visit all the time” and that sort of thing. Of course the girls effusively poured out their farewells in apocalyptic proportion, some of these coming from those I didn’t really know that well. I guess it was the drama of the semester for this 400 student school. There was a party, a few tears, and a lot of unkept promises to stay in touch. One thing was true though, I genuinely felt like these people would miss me as much as I would miss them.

A connection has been made. My childhood has been coming back to me in gulps for the past several months, and I’m finding new parts of myself, parts that I had left behind with the friends that new them. And that’s the rub. When you get close to someone, you give them a small part of yourself. My childhood friends retain in them memories of purity, fun, and freedom from worry. When I left them, I left a part of myself, but it was redeemable. My current fear for today is that I am not giving enough of myself away. Without investing time in friends, creating memories to forget and one day rediscover, I lose this method of self-preservation. I very well may look back in ten years and wonder what happened to the young man who walked onto the U of A’s campus in the fall of 2005. Only the others who walked there with me will have the answers.

I believe Christ intended for us to depend on each other in this way. When he sat down on his last day to walk freely on the earth, he sat with his twelve closest friends. At this meal he sent one resounding message to the world, love each other. He said it three times. Christ clearly thought this essential to our walk.

I know I haven’t spent much time with you guys this semester, but I intend for that to change.

Hello World!

I have my own blog! Ironically I created it moments after saying that I would not make my own. I stated on the Fuller blog that I would continue with my personal posts there. That's why I am an idiot. Look for more ridiculousness soon.