Planting for The Next Generation- Will of Fire

Friends. I have always felt impressed by the universal drive to become something "Greater than One's Self." In the case of something being universally applicable, then the audience to which it rings true is everyone- and not even religion speaks to everyone. That means that it's a fundamentally important issue that everyone feels is important. (Logic wins attention- thank you.) 

To discount this drive in a humanistic attempt, I would simply attribute this strong feeling to the time when I was 13 and I was deeply moved by prayers over me. The story goes as follows- when two people I deeply respected prayed over many people in a line (rather nonchalantly,) and coming to me, they paused and with growing intent and excitement said... "Woah. WOAH... WOAH!! You are going to do SOMETHING great for God. I don't know WHAT it is, but it's going to be great." 

I had just read the verse in Ephesians 1 that urges: "Live a life WORTHY of the calling you've received." I had always felt small. I'd always been told I was tiny- (when I was in 4th grade, there was a kindergardener who was bigger than me in every way) I was so daunted, i felt deflated- defeated even. My inner dialogue was- "(*Explative*) If I'm supposed to do things that are great, then I have to accomplish things that are hard. I can't- I'm not strong enough." I hadn't been given anything to make me feel capable.

Eventually, rising to take on this burden translated into me developing a savior complex- trying to solve ALL of the problems of anyone who confided in me, out of the 60+ youth in my youth group, and counting it as my own weakness when they didn't succeed. Truthfully, the greater weakness on the stage of events was that there were only 2 youth leaders for what became 80+ youth looking for some direction in life. It was PITIFUL how little response there was from our "forefathers-" and I felt it. 
My thoughts about elders in (any) church ever since have been riddled with heavy scrutiny as to their right to govern my life- as "they" did NOTHING with my pleas and suggestions for change which could be expressed as nothing less than originating in the heart of God. Their lack of stewardship fueled my rebellion through lack of support- as I felt I was never given the strength to accomplish, I felt it it easier not to attempt the seemingly impossible.

Basically my feelings were- "These old people are dumb. They can have what they have- I won't have anything to do with wasting my strength in their broken system." What I did in response made their quintessential feelings pertinent- "These young people are bright, but foolish. I won't give them everything I've worked for in life- they'll just mess up and squander it!"

For years I carried the weight of both not believing in myself, AND the burden to become someone/something "truly GREAT."

Even when I was 9 or 10, there was an instance where I was at a family friend's house- I was staying overnight and they had the tradition of praying before going to bed. The conversation was on dreams- and I'd constantly been affirmed greatly by them in how well I did massages. *Note- you can have life changing conversations with 9 year olds.*

I expressed "Y'know- I wish I could just give massages and get paid for it!"

One of them laughed and said- "You know you could do that- it's called Massage Therapy. You'd even get paid a lot!" I responded with an important question- "Don't you have to go to school to do therapy?"-" Yeah, it just takes a few years."- Defeated, I responded, "Oh. Well, I couldn't do that." - "Why not?"- ***"I'm not smart enough. Besides, I want to REALLY help people. (There's Irony there if anyone can see it.) - Their response was a laughing question- "Oh- and what are you going to do then?" - "I want to be a Pastor."

Let's Talk about Elijah first. He had a ministry that was referenced as the mantle in other generations hundreds (I think?) of years later- and even prophesied in the book of Revelations as being that which "prepares the way of the Lord." (note- if you want to "hasten the day" of the Lord where all debts are forgiven and wrongs are made right, then this article is for you.)

That's My story. I'm certain there are MANY more of you with similar experiences. Now I will talk about the timeless application of the Biblical generation gap. I can't take credit for these thoughts- these were GIVEN TO ME BY SOMEONE WISER THAN I.

Now hear this- The Spirit of Elijah Hearkened to work of Jesus. He is the great restorer and healer- if we live by His example, then life would be peachy keen. It is said that (and I'm going to mix, match, and mesh Bible interpretations to get my point across) "And he shall go before him, as a forerunner, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and the hearts of the rebellious children to the prudence of the just Fathers, to make ready a prepared people for the Lord."

As an aside- Let me make known this bit of poignant wisdom: The developmental aspect of a father is not necessarily in relative FAMILIAL position - but there are those who are fatherly without kids, and it merely denotes the more mature one able to bestow blessing and inheritance. Well- if you're more mature than those who are older, then be graceful. Don't assert yourself, but give as much as can be taken. Some kids are more mature than their parents. It takes a lot of humility to overcome a lot of pride.

Back to the main string of the content here: Elijah did have some crazy miracles in his day- he saw the whole of Israel turn to the publicly sexualized worship of Nimrod and Semiramis, called them out and said "MY GOD IS IN CONTROL" disputing in deed their gods' who were said to create fertility- and prayed that the heavens would be shut so it'd stop raining and it wouldn't be fertile anymore (A HUGE SLAP IN THE FACE AS TO THOSE gods' POWER.) After the three years of no rain [famine] proving their impotence, he has a showdown, calls fire from heaven, turns Israel to God overnight, opens the heavens, and voila. Ministry served. On to the NEXT GENERATION.

God gave Elijah a double portion of Elijah's spirit- as his heart was already turned towards Elijah. Elisha succeeded Elijah. He got a double portion- but ONLY because he avidly pursued everything Elijah did. When he found out Elijah would be taken from him, he spent EVERY SECOND with him- even following him to the bathroom (look it up!) On to the next Generation.

Gehazi. Gehazi, Gehazi, Gehazi... (shakes head.) May we all learn from your loss. Where Elijah had only one servant- Gehazi was one of many under Elijah- yet he's the only one named. [Biblical names have importance- and His meant "Valley of Vision"] - Either he was supposed to be full of it, surrounded by it, or he was lacking it. I think both.
As you read the account, you come to find that in the end he was bought out by the things that the ministry could earn him. [HE TOOK A PRICE FOR/SOLD WHAT WAS AVAILABLE TO HIM FOR FREE.] His want for the results overcame the heart of following in Elisha's footsteps which refused to be bought out by money and things. He was a sellout. Where Elisha had a double portion, he would've had a multiplied portion. The ministry ended, and then you find an Israel in the next book in much need of vision and guidance.
Imagine if Elisha had shown mercy and said "If you go and give that, which you wrongfully took, to the poor who couldn't get it- invest in the younger generation and continue on with me, you'll have already done greater things than I.

Isaiah 3-9 is a powerful representation of the heart of God WEEPING for the wounds which we inflict ON OURSELVES and the systemic issues which we STILL face in our society. IT'S STILL RELEVANT.

I feel like I get to combat those systemic issues by living out the next generation of the calling of a certain (and sweetly wonderful) nun by the name of Sister Rosalind- who viewed Massage as a way of laying hands on those who needed healing (like Jesus did.) She viewed it as a passion and a purpose filled calling much less than a job.
Personally, I feel like I'm acting as more of a pastor than some who have a church building do. I'm providing the relational transition from stress into peace, caring for the whole person, and giving my passion to serve the physical, emotional, and mental well being of those I touch. In the process I get to teach people how to strategically relate their affections in a tangible, and effective, yet acceptable way!
Sister Rosalind went through intense scrutiny in the process of it- even to the point of losing her happy and comfortable home- because the pharisees of her day couldn't see the heart of God in her tangible, but as of then un-forged, ministry.

I have to ask myself if I'd be willing to do the same. Those who are faithful with little will be given much. I have to ask if I'd be faithful with much. I'm still processing that. Who will keep me loyal to the older AND the newer generation? Will God have reason to trust me to pass on what I grab hold of- or will it fade away- pulled into the ground as I clutch it in final burial?

I hope that I can change from being a young fool. In fact- that's always been my hope. I just have felt very powerless to make that change- fearing failure quite deeply- not feeling like I have a safe place to stretch my wings and strengthen them before I need to fly. To add pressure from another side, I read the strong language in Ephesians 4 which says that I'm a "prisoner of the Lord" and that I must "live a life worthy" of the stuff/person you're supposed to do/become.

Today as I searched for that to express my fear, I came to a different, yet similar passage which changed my destiny. It paints the picture of support-

"Because we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people... For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light."

The words "SO THAT" hit me. It must be understood that I'm supposed supported by the prayers of those who love me- otherwise I'll have NO STRENGTH to do the things I need and want to do. If I don't become someone worthy, then who's squandered the inheritance- ME or THEM? The answer is: The more mature one is the one who is held accountable.

If EITHER side feels like there's no personal relating happening, it wouldn't matter if it was a priceless inheritance on the table- it wouldn't be transferred. All generations need to feel the genuine personal interest in what they've worked their entire lives for. It's called respect, perspective, scope, vision- all of the above. Another word for respect could be "honor." If I give people the honor due to them- they will see also what God has put in me.

My choir teacher once referenced someone smarter than him and said, "Our forefathers did farming and factory jobs so that their children could go to school to learn History and Literature. Those did so in the intent that their children would go to school to learn Math and Science. Our Fathers went to school to learn Math and Science so that we could learn Music and Art." I believed that to be so that all that could be found in years past would be expressed with thanks for the struggle and the grand outcome.

If we don't bridge the gap of generations, we stand to lose the greatest investments that God has made into the world through the ones that have come before us. 

We live in the time of the most opportunity. Internet with limitless instantaneous info, the most widespread systemic... systems... 80 million Baby Boomers with inheritances to invest in the next 30 years- OR take it to their graves... Even if you think things look bleak- We undoubtedly stand at a precipice. 

Einstein said "Energy never ceases to exist, it merely changes form."

This isn't the end of my thoughts, but I feel like my tirade should be done. So I leave you:
What will you do? The world is ripe for change.

Breaking Free

Something in the Super Bowl really caught my attention this year.

I saw two girls in one of the commercials stripping for (seemingly) no reason. They even paused and asked, "Wait...why are we doing this?" - "Because it's the Super Bowl." This happened after Beyoncé- the singer for the Presidential Inauguration speech, appears to strip down to lingerie. The media is blatantly displaying sensuality and desensitizing the presence of stripping and making it public.
This is a high price stage- where every moment costs thousands of dollars, and the audience at large is mainly a constituent of happy families and their friends. Kids get to stay up just to watch the halftime show and super bowl commercials. Knowing this, Marketing (and the general public) deems it fit to play the piper's flute to the beat of wanton desire. It feels like America is putting out to the highest bidder. "Well that's gotta be a job maker!" As of tonight, a large constituent of young girls have been "introduced" to the wonderful world of "interpretive dance." Seeing them on TV, it's doubtless that ONE girl out there asked- "Daddy, do those actors get paid?" and his answer (not drawing a connection) would possibly be "Yes honey, they get paid a lot." Whether she got the answer from him or not, she would find a conclusion. Imagine if she replied (maybe days later) with "I want to be on TV and get paid a lot like that too Daddy."

I'm sure many men would find shame in the selfish emotions that rise up looking at these scantily clad woman. I'm also sure that many men will be incited even to lust after letting the lingering sensation of enticement enter their mind through the gate of their eyes. Is it their fault? I say No. That's bold- I know. Simply said: our desires are being exploited. In truth, that can't be helped- unless we can find change.
Right now, with the postmodernism rocking the stage of intellectual conduct, sex is still on the table as fair game for being a victimless crime. "It's not the people in Porn industry's fault that so many men WANT to see a woman with no defense for their eyes. It's not the Men's fault that women want to be known for their beauty. It's no one's fault that commerce should be the forum for mediating the great job of capturing and appreciating the natural pulchritude around us! Men want to want, and Women want to be wanted! It's in our wiring- why stand in the way of that? How can it be so harmful as it's obviously so natural? It's evolution of our prim society."
Ha.

What we want is intimacy. That's easy enough to define. Lust stands in the way of intimacy- it isolates people. We should want a community where these appreciations and affirmations are given an organic forum. That entails growth, maturity, and fulfillment. By creating an inadequate surrogate, and making it commonly acceptable- you're creating a terrible leak in the system of healthy reciprocity. Read that sentence again- I said You're. The grammar use of a contraction between the words You + Are. This depicts an identity and its state of action- this time inferring possession of responsibility in a present tense.
"How?" By feeding the system. By playing your role. By accepting, with cordiality, so as not to offend, the emotional defense of our current dispositions. You're playing a society game. You're being programmed- or more like de-programmed from the way that God divinely purposed you to be. Not all of men's desires are a noble and beautiful thing. Women aren't supposed to be worshipped. Nor is every pursuit of the heart wise. They're supposed to be cherished and encouraged- certainly! I'm sure the symptoms of our society's bleeding hearts would be far less obnoxious if it were amply so- but the roots of infection still grow! Now that little girl, who saw the attention her father gave to the TV screen, and sees the grasp it has on what she wants, (Daddy's time and attention,) she sees a solution. Maybe one that could cost her a little discomfort? "Maybe- but it's NORMAL. I saw it on TV." That's the emotion's response- even if it's never put into words so plainly.

You're seeing the formation of a victim. The tasteless* odorless, poison- filled with spectacular color and relatively little pain. It goes in slowly, but is slower to be expelled. You see a polarization happening as the poison shades and darkens her eyes, colors her lips, and strips off her clothes. You see the burned. Call her a slut. A skank. Eventually, when she capitalizes on what she thinks she already is- you call her a whore. A prostitute. An adulteress.
Meanwhile, the man who makes this available is admonished as a Pimpin' sly dog. The "customer" is a John or Tom. Short for Tomcat?

Look again at the bleeding heart. Change your paradigm: They're each a Victim! A great majority of sex trafficked victims have been broken down in their identity through repetitive molestation. Even the men who engage in this economy must have been exposed time and time again before they worked up the nerve to disregard true compassion. Over 25% of women in Minnesota, age 23+ have been sexually abused or molested. (check the statistic- I can't be sure that number is high enough.) It happens to guys too. When any are exposed to sexual arousal, without trust, they experience the simultaneous feeling of shame and arousal. It causes them to hate what they like. They start hating themselves. They hold themselves in contempt. It awakens desire that can't be quenched for the rest of their lives.
Read the book "Wounded Heart" by Dr. Dan B. Allender (link at bottom.) I have read almost all of it, and it's given me a greater compassion for people at large. It gives a deeper look at the psychological and emotional shattering that happens. Think about how the simple touch on a shoulder may immediately remind a victim, (over 1/4 of every friend or stranger in the US,) of their shame and their desire for intimacy at the same time. That's a very sobering thought for a Christian Massage Therapist like me, who wants to bring God's healing and comfort at the advent of contact- not fear and shame.
My thought is this- I argue that the statistic of sexually abused people in America is 99.99%. Anyone who has heard provocative language to stir their desire. Seen the prodding of a lustful gaze. Tasted the honey that drips from the mouth of an adulterant heart. Spoken a crude joke until it pierced their heart.

• Minneapolis, Minnesota is ranked in the top 13 cities in the nation for high incidence of recruitment of minors into prostitution and sex trafficking. (3.)
• Every 2 minutes, someone in the US is sexually abused (not counting trafficked victims)
• About 30% of abused and neglected children will later abuse their own children, continuing the horrible cycle of abuse. ⁵
• When asked, 89% of women and girls used in prostitution wanted to get out but didn’t know where to turn for help (4.)
• In 2010, the online sales of minor girls being sold for sex in MN increased by 55% over a six month period (5.)
• By very conservative measures, a November 2010 study found that each month in Minnesota at least 213 underage girls are sold for sex an average of five times per day through the Internet and escort services. This number does not include hotel, street or gang activity. (5.)
• About 50% of adult women interviewed as part of a 2010 study focused on North Minneapolis stated that they first traded sex when they were under the age of 18, with the average age at 13. (6.)
• 75% of girls who are entangled in prostitution networks are controlled by a sex trafficker or “pimp.”(7.)
• The average age of entry into prostitution and sex trafficking is 12-14 years of age (8.)
• The Polaris Project conservatively estimates that a pimp with a “stable” of three girls or women often enforces an average nightly quota of $500, or $1,500 a night. If these quotas are met consistently, the pimp can make as much as $547,000 (or more) in a year ($1,500 a night x 365 nights a year = $547,500). (8.)

Talk about an economy. The Office of Exploiting People sure does make great jobs for the States! Look how many hotels get rooms booked. Look at how many ad agencies get escort services paying for advertising. Look at how many strip clubs are encouraging young women in need to think "I guess this is sort of a good career since it pays well." How are we going to combat this economy of demoralization? The exchange rate from dignity to dollars is about 1hour/$60 (more or less.) Does that make YOU think twice about what you're doing? The only way to combat a giant company is either to build an economic machine larger than theirs, or chip away at the foot of their mountain. Unless you can find a way to convince men to stop liking the form of a woman, and women to stop depending on the best paying job to fill her addiction- it looks like we're going to have to buy them out with something more worthwhile. Looks to me like we need to invest in the Economy of Mercy.

I've asked a lot of questions, and made many suppositions... you may ask "Where does it lead? What do you propose We do?" I'll be writing more on this later. (I'm sure.) Meanwhile, I suggest you start by demanding change- and then, as Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see." Break Free of your mindset of "oh well!" There aren't enough people who look with compassion on all who are wounded. Still fewer take it as their life's work to see that they be cared for. We all have been subject to injustice- but where you stand against it makes the difference between someone FOR and AGAINST the system. Right now, our economic system encourages what I've just described. If you DO want to make a difference, then I suggest you join with people already making the change. If you're in the Minneapolis, St Paul area visit http://www.breakingfree.net/ and read about what some of my friends (and soon myself included) will be helping with. There is an event coming up on May 3rd called The Demand Change Project. Check it out.

God bless-
And may you give Grace and Mercy as you have received it: Freely.

A new post

Too many things transpire in my mind between times where I take the minutes to build a testament. Now, I want to write about many things: the importance of learning horticulture for our future, the need to be a gentle yet strong advocate for a worldly nation-- sexually abused and wounded, and the need to be vigilant in philosophy and optimism.
I guess I'll need to narrow my scope, lest i be left to aimless rambling.

I think the Age we are coming to is the age of Identity- where what changes is what we allow to define us. To ascertain our true identity, we (the collective that Truly live) must become bold and outspoken about what is now seen as delicate and hidden treasures. We musn't be quiet and gentle so as not to break them- rather with skill deliver them to power in wholeness and fullness.

Like the sunlight just coming keenly above the horizon at sunrise, or where the keen edge of a blade is between nothingness or a solid molecule-- so is the truth we hold: powerful to divide and reveal the nature of things. I think my mind is drawn to the inexpressible because that is often where my spirit dwells- beyond the facts that try to un-prove my dream, but fall utterly short. In my dream I feel the destiny of the Days which are coming when people will be fully themselves- at peace. My optimism is that there WILL be peace.
Despite the mountains of debt- be they financial or emotional- there will be a straight path to a Kingdom rich in life. The shadow of the curse will be pushed beyond its walls, and healing will be in the footsteps of those that dwell in its ramparts. I speak of truth beyond faery-tale... of power deeper than the Old Magic of Narnia. This world I speak of is in the re-creating. It's been birthed in the Foundations of the earth- not the plates around the planet core, but in every molecule changed by the Economy of Mercy. Those Foundations make up the very nature and limit of our ability and determine how strong a molecular bond is. My Brothers and Sisters- God's Song will resonate in my bones, and it won't be kept silent. Let the fountain of ever living water run through you- let your lifeblood scream of God's Love. Willingly let it be spilt' if need to Pay some debt of the curse arise- and only then will you do greater things than He who made it possible.
My destiny is to let it be known that my World has been touched, in cosmic and molecular ways, by the Creator to redeem what was once given away.
All things are created by God with destiny- and so will come to their beauty in perfect timing. Dreams and mysterious things will be revealed. The consummation of Life's desire will be attended by all of creation. So God is leading me to speak a new Language to herald the change that comes also in my heart. It's the rising up of my true Self in flesh that's becoming new.It's like I see a coloring book where only small parts are colored in...but only those parts that are colored in are really real, and the rest has to catch up.

My friend asked me- "What does that look like in you?" and I said, "I can see a tangible Kingdom. I can see it all around me. One where everyone has a seat. And when they sit in that seat, all around it glows. But it takes everyone in creation to sit in their seat to get rid of the darkness."

God seems to be directing my desire towards growing a garden. He wants to show me how the fruits of life come naturally- not by lifting the nutrients out of the ground and stuffing them into a tree. It's a personal analogy that rings true to the ear of my heart, being that I hear God telling me it's spring time. It's time for me to grow and define what kind of fruit bearing tree I'm going to be.
God's healing comes in the Tree of Life which bears every kind of fruit. God is saying to me that there's supposed to be a place where the Gifts of God's love meet and marry with the Fruits of God's love. That said, I feel like the one thing that touches every part of a being is Sex- and as a Nation, America has been blatantly sexually abused. By being aroused too early in Godly desires, by faux promise in worldly treasure, we are then ashamed in the abandonment a weak response. I know that God does not awaken Love until it's time to prepare for its fulfillment.
The day is coming when God will not leave us aroused by a fleeting affection, but be Intimate and Consummate with His treatment of our hearts. He wants to show us who He truly is.
That said, we should take a personal stand for those who have been used and abused. People who have been hungry for love all their life shouldn't be chagrined for falling to lesser things. They should be befriended- defended- their captors apprehended. This society is much like a desert- devoid of life giving substances. Shaming just dries the lovelorn throat more- making them thirsty and speechless.

My life is finding new destiny in loving where there is little loved. I want to see gardens spring up from once Desert grounds. I'm finding my seat in Heavenly places. Let's retake the Kingdom of the Earth.

New things

So I'll greet you with an admission: I've been trying too hard to come up with something new and refined to say- and omit the things I see as trivial. Consequently, I haven't posted anything- nearly abandoning a worthy project. I apologize if this is too unrefined, and the texture is inconsistent for your taste. I know this becomes valuable to someone- even if it's only me.
All in all, as a new semester has just closed behind me, so the pressure to produce is gone- and the desire for it has promptly returned. Despite fatigue, I feel it necessary to chronicle what exactly it is I've experienced.
Being as my thoughts diverge so greatly from nearly every person I've ever met- I have to conclude that I am a rarity. (You are too- you just might fail to believe it.) I'm not afraid of a lack in commonality- rather I fear the depreciation of the singular things because we have little or no reference to their beauty. Things I take for granted as common sense or mindless drivel can be a deep draught or novel flavor to someone else's taste. Likewise, I see the same must be for me too.
As Truth is the only trustworthy thing, solid in an undulating world, we seek to hold it for as long as it pertains to our surrounding. Our minds can only hold so many things at once- and so we methodically climb steps of truth to to heights of conscious awareness- letting go of lesser concrete ideas to let us go onward.
Because everything has its context, I find the greatest importance in communication. My writing becomes dense and hard to palate as i am stuck trying to wring out every fluid ounce of meaning in me. Because I have not yet the literary strength to purify clout from meaning, I hint at sorrow for the loss of my acuteness. We often tire of our own thoughts before we have the chance to communicate them. It's that, or we become hopeless that anyone would pursue our mind to the exhaustive point of its case.
This is why friendship is so dependent on close affections. Without that proximal intimacy we frustrate the meanings we wish to convey. We are too forgetful and temperamental to well muddle through to explaining the more ultimate thoughts. We are still very much like children- still comforted by the commonality of experience- but refined so much as to needing a much more substantial commonality to share. With our fate of learning and creating, our utmost desire becomes that of finding someone who has the same fate to learn similar flavors and nuances of thought. We desire the most unnatural type of love- one of mutual respect honor and strength. (Lewis 91,96,97,103, 104- The four Loves.)
When I read from C.S. Lewis and see the thoughts that I've put down (totally aside) mirror or parallel his- I can't help a gasp of surprise and a warmness of understanding. I have an agony that is perceiving the misunderstood. If I compare myself to a proven literary master, and am so weak and unskilled- I just prove myself foolish. If I don't associate the literal comparison, you have no foundation to empathize my situation in its most intimate parts.
I would like to say that these thoughts and preconceptions are often clutter- things we feel we need to concern about before we can get to the truth of anything. This is a falsity and a clarity in one. Sadly, addressing them is the only rudimentary skill we have at hewing out a basin to hold our argument. I must contextualize my world for you, or the relative nihilistic nature of our cognitive styles cannot communicate.

Though he cannot respect me- for his passing on- Lewis is now one of my dearest friends despite only "hearing" less than a million words to speak of his intellectual affections. Because I have a common bond- a place I've arrived at all on my own, and see he's been there too- it makes me feel that someone would understand my hopes for greatness.
You see, it is not that I doubt my capability for greatness that hinders me so strongly and dampens my wick- it is that I don't feel that anyone could perceive a change if i did become great. Greatness wouldn't do anything good if no one knew to be helped by it.
You can think me foolish to aspire- but I won't be mocked, for it is my genius to realize that everyone is purposed for greatness- not many accept the call, and still fewer persevere to the point. Anyone can take a picture- but seeing how the world speaks without words is a necessary vantage for a photographer.
How to have more thoughts than what you say, and show that the world speaks it, is the job of a journalist. And how to show anyone what that truly means is the miracle of a true photographer. So it is with our minds- and writers write to freeze one pictorial tangible truth. Many times we shoot short and the focus is off- or the main object is only partially revealed because the perspective is too close to consider the immensity of it. Still more, we must consider that some photographers of the mind have dirt in the lens of their scope- and so blot out vital details in the scheme of reality. In the end, beautiful things can be a blur without the right focus and attention to perspective. So it is with having many good thoughts- but until it's on paper, it can't be measured, weighted, and tested. Until a thought has reached a definition, it's still a relative rule.
Even if a picture is worth a thousand words- those thousand words (or more) must be thought by the artist before it can be materialized. Without the preset of cognitively forming our creation, our product becomes a thousand words of blah from whence it came.
It's a shaky thought, but I think this note is relative to the ideals of evolving the mind. Owen Barfield may be seeping out of me through exposure in the works of C.S. Lewis.
I feel like I am too out of shape- or my mind isn't sharp enough to cut all the way through the bonds that hold my thoughts to this mud. I tire far too long before I've reached my intended destination. Case in point-I had planned on linking these ideas to the phenomena in my life wherein I seem to have very well failed the most important/growing/imbuing/fertile/nutritious/fostering/cultured/powerful/poised/destined semester of school I've had so far. I've gained more this semester than all of the semesters before altogether, but could not be where I am without them. Still, I've somehow squandered my stewardship despite extreme efforts. I think my quality dwindles with my hopes of it ever being complete. I believe also that I am cursed with a sick will- a plague of lethargy in my soul. I have a song I must write down, but yet... it evades me to even think long of it. Times will come when I will make the best of what I should, and make the best of not doing what I want.
Thank you for reading-
Yours (as you know me)

Waste Land

So I just watched what I expected to be a somewhat lame documentary about modern art. The documentary "WASTE LAND follows renowned artist Vik Muniz as he journeys from his home base in Brooklyn to his native Brazil and the world's largest garbage dump, Jardim Gramacho, located on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. There he photographs an eclectic band of “catadores”—self-designated pickers of recyclable materials. Muniz’s initial objective was to “paint” the catadores with garbage. However, his collaboration with these inspiring characters as they recreate photographic images of themselves out of garbage reveals both the dignity and despair of the catadores as they begin to re-imagine their lives. "
Somehow the people of this junk heap became a part of something much greater: an idea- a realization. As the movie followed the journey from meeting these people who remain optimistic, despite the circumstances of life which led them to this job, to everyone being changed by seeing themselves in such a positive way- my own eyes were changed. 
I was exposed to the story of a people living in what we might call destitution- getting $20-$25 for a full day of hard and dangerous work and being very thankful to God for it. In one of the first interviews with a worker, the man was asked if he was unhappy. He replied "No, I am fine. If I complain, God will need to punish me." How these people can find humility in their place astounds me. It even breaks my heart. Instead of being angry at everything- even after being empowered to leave, some returned because they missed their "colleagues." The community there was much more loving and supporting than any I've lived in- simply because they all know that they struggle together. 
A large mantra among them is that their work is honorable- not dirty. One woman commented "It's hard, but it's better than turning tricks for the Copa Cabana. The father of my children is a drug dealer- but if I depended on him to provide for my children I'd be screwed. When I first started riding the bus home after working a few days, women would look at me and say 'what's that smell?' and I knew it was me. Finally I just started asking people if I stink before they could speak. What I do is better than prostituting myself. I know that what I do is stinky, but when I get home- I can take a shower and I'll be fine." One  man who died during the making of the movie was highly revered by everyone- and highly quoted. He admitted that he hadn't been educated at all- but out of his love he spoke wisdom when speaking to the people. He encouraged the young people who had just arrived at the job "When you get your money, don't think that it's dirty money! What you do is honorable! It's better to be here and working hard than to be rich and have no morals."
In a country so riddled with crimes such as prostitution and robbery, where drug cartels war in the streets- and people are happy when there is quiet- here is found an exception: a people, an example, of the lower middle class working hard and having more meaningful conversation than most. They find books which are thrown away and give it to the few with enough literacy to read and talk to them about what they read. Most books are just recycled in ignorance. They have deep conversations about philosophy and about great thinkers- deciding where they themselves lie in school of thought. Their emotions run deep when talking of their dreams and their heartache- and they aren't afraid to let tears go. They remain respectful and thankful to God for the little they do have. These are the loving people many people would throw away just the same as the refuse they work in.
As they were noting the prices of some items of what we might think of as garbage- they added that the millionaires' garbage gets mixed in with the poorest of families. They would judge what kind of family the trash came from. Looking at the pile of garbage and mess in my room- which before watching this movie I felt disgusted by, I now feel very grateful for. The things I have in my college dorm room- where some might think that what I live in is much less than the comforts of home- my eyes are opened to the fact that it is quite the contrary. I am more than wealthy- and now somewhat ashamed.
The artist who decided to begin this project actually had humble beginnings not far from where they decided to perform this transformation. He said "I'd rather want everything and have nothing than have everything and want nothing. Because at least when you want something your life has a meaning- it's worthwhile. From the moment you think you have everything, you have to search for meaning in other things- and having nothing. I spent half my life wanting everything and having nothing, and now I have everything and I don't want anything... When I was poor I wanted material things. I just wanted to have things. I had to buy a lot of crap to get rid of that complex." The artist himself did not know that what he started would result in something so drastic.
Look around you. Look how great the blessings God has given you are! You're reading this off of a computer right now. Today I asked God in earnest- "show me how to love more" and of all mediums- He spoke to my heart through a documentary on an art project. This is the faithfulness of my God. I highly suggest you watch this movie yourself. Draw your own conclusions- have your eyes be opened and your heart changed. God sent us into this world to save the people in it- not store up nice things. He allows us to have them as a blessing, but we can make it a curse so easily.

Subtle flavor

So today seems to have a subtle message for me. In this blog I seek for something good to share in what I know or feel- but I won't say that I found anything inexplicable rare or extraordinarily beautiful today. In truth- I want this blog to give note to the fine blessings and passing thoughts that God gives us. I want to take notice and give praise to Him for the subtle things that normally pass before the unseeing eyes of those who think lesser of great collisions of fate.
Today was interesting. The sky was clear- and I feel the bitter fingers of winter slipping off for good. With warmth to look forward to, food provided for me, good projects to be a proud steward of, and flickering hope of new ministry venues being lit, I'll say that it was a very nice day.
Because I was finishing the aesthetics of my blog page in chapel, a friend of mine noted that she also had a blog. I had other things to do, so I put it off until just a few minutes ago. After a somewhat challenging songwriting session, I decided to check my mail on the off chance that someone decided to "love me." I received two things: my passport and a bill.
I observe things very well in conjunction with each other- and even observe in the scope of the symbolic connotations things might have. The bill looked new- not like the ones I was expecting, so I opened it in curiosity. It is apparently a bill from the doctor gone to a debt collector with a bill of $900+ (which should have been absolutely covered by my insurance.)
How I read this symbolically= I receive the tool to go serve and explore. I receive the accusation of the world's claim on me- saying that adventure is impossible and that my ties to debt and duty will keep me imprisoned as a slave, to the false remedies, caused by the sickness inherently tied to us in the scope of our curse.
With my level of faith- I know that God will provide for me to fulfill His great plans for my life. My developing understanding of "Heaven," and resurrection and the freedom we have from the claims of anything that speaks against the wholeness of God's claimed ones, allows me to have a peace about my future. I live well according to the verse that says "Do not worry about your life- for who of you, by worrying, can add an hour to you life?" but I thought... "why am I not more affected- at least burdened or affected?" The answer came as I was reading my friends' blog. The whole message of her blog is of love, light and uplifting truth- pointed at God's benevolence for us. She had a rebuke against stress which included the verse "“He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord. His heart is secure, he will have no fear; in the end he will look in triumph on his foes.” (Psalm 112:7-8)"
So I know that the powers that seek to hold me in bond, which is in conflict with the plan that God has for me, will not succeed. 
I know the money I do have is going to missions in one way or another. As of late I have been refined more and more in the Spirit. God is furthering my gifts of music, prophecy, and knowledge. As I pursue my gifts in music (and now have the venue of going to Carnegie Hall to perform with my choir) I realize the plan God has for me is much too grandiose to be bothered by the claims against the potential and purpose of my life.
You see, I know that even kings and rulers will be ruined in all their plans. A day is coming when the sin of men will not have the strong hold of fear in the lives of so many. There are oppressors who seek to destroy the people of this country and this freedom we possess. As men in high seats of power smile in wickedness at the contracts they have made with people- they will fall from their lofty places. The Lord will cause justice. Soon there will come a day when the capitalistic oligarchy which rules this nation will be removed from its seat. No longer will the sick be oppressed by the rich. (i'll get into this in a different post)
In the same way- the truth and power of Christ will spread as the lens of sin is taken off. When His power is fully shown, there will be healing and freedom. Now is the time where we remain stewards of what we are given to work with to prepare for the time of harvest that is surely coming.
Consequently, as today has an atmosphere of cool wind rushing through like cool water, so I feel the refreshing and renewing hand of God pressing me to remember that warmer days are coming- that more promise has yet to be fulfilled. Though I am made fully aware of the taxing things that are set before me- I have no worry because I am in His hand.

Giving things a name

Yesterday I started a Twitter account upon someone's suggestion. After- I asked someone "what's the purpose of Twitter anyway?" He then related to me that "Twitter is more for people who want to be celebrities- who are trying to represent a certain 'brand' in a way." Immediately I realize Twitter is not what I want. I don't intend on being any sort of celebrity- nor do i (by nature) ascribe to any 'brand.'
I'm naming this blog "entropic serendipity" because my whole persona hints at something more subtle- something- "something." It's slightly chaotic in nature... always fading away before you can place a finger on it. It's "a figurative lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder" with its root being mid 19th cent.: from en- 2 [inside] + Greek tropē =‘transformation.’ -denoting something in flux or changing into something different (not decisively decided.) Put all of that into that which is Serendipity in its entirety. "the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident" (finding beauty in a place you did not expect it)- always with the understanding that it requires a certain level of sagacity to ever experience.
I hope this will gradually become something exquisite- not "lofty" or airy. Things that happen in my life are so interestingly collided with my bumbling that I cannot claim to have any respect of hand in causing the beautiful things I see- I just want to share them. What I seek to contain cannot be grasped- much like the scent of the rain. In like manner, there are many who dislike rain because they cannot break their heart to love the experience betwixt the grayness of the sky, the chill, the wet- so it is an esoteric thing to appreciate. Note that those who have the mind to watch the rain are the ones who are gifted with seeing the world being ethereally cleansed.
The deepest collections of choice morsels are never ascribed to a brand. They are the homely and genuinely wrought things which we long for. The cornucopia of seasonings and elements that compose the taste of one person's experience is impossible to replicate. If it were not for the sympathetic and highly creative imaginative capabilities of those who search for more than they have- we would never be impassioned enough to work out a viable means of communicating the things we find so beautiful.
It was recently my sad observation of all of the small things which I will have appreciated and then lost forever that has spurred me to begin... telling you... my life.
The best flavors in cooking are bold and unique- much like the constructs of music. There are the base flavors that resonate strongly, the acids that electrify and illuminate, the juxtaposition of savory and sweet which sings out, the overtones which enrapture you and make you yearn, but- it is the complex aroma that first draws you and entices you.
I hope that I will achieve a good balance of elements in what I say so as to produce hearty sensations so that if you endure, it will not have been for any little purpose- but for a small portion of a great one. I wouldn't dare to use twitter- because it's not what I'm hoping for. 160 characters cannot express the intimate intentions I now understand to be of enough importance so as to inspire the words that follow.