So who's going to watch you die?

" 'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room
Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news
And then the nurse comes round and everyone will lift their heads
But I'm thinking of what Sarah said...

that "Love is watching someone die"


So who's going to watch you die?.. "

, What Sarah Said - Death Cab for Cutie

I had heard this song a dozen times before it clicked... and once it did I was blown away by my Father once again. How many ways can love be portrayed in such a powerful way as this. When I see love, I see the woman crying at Jesus feet because she can't find any other way to express this furious love for Him. Sarah sees someone holding a loved one's hand during their last minutes. Love is such an amazing thing that can be expressed in so many different ways, and I think I'm guilty of trying to equate it to numbers and formulas when I should really just spend some time in awe of it.

God created love so we could experience Him. Just as much as He created the mountains so we could see His majesty, He created this experience of love so that we could know Him deeper through it. I want to know love. Spend some time in awe of this thing of love. What do you see?

Back

I am now back from camp, and I can say that I'm glad I'm home.

I have learned so many things already, but I feel like I'm seeing two things and don't understand how they fit together yet. One thing that God has shown me is that we only need to please Him. We can't seek after the approval of anyone else but our heavenly Father. But there's this other part of me that seems to yell even louder that I need the attention of people. Not everyone, but sometimes certain someones. There's nothing that could convince me that this desire isn't real in me.

So on one side, I feel like I'm drowning in the burning awareness that we were created to be in community with others, and I cannot quell this desire to be a part of that. Yet this needy sort of thing seems to contradict the fact that I need to seek after God's approval and no longer the approval of man. It just doesn't seem to completely vibe with me... how about you

What is real anyways?

I was having a conversation with an old friend about life and where we've come from and where we're both headed, and at some point in the conversation, the term "real" started being thrown around. Now this is something that I am guilty of quite often. You know those people, they are just very real... but in trying to explain this to someone else, I realized that I'm not even so sure of what I'm talking about.

So is being real just always being honest and not being a fake? Or does real have more to do with being in tune with God's rhythm of life, living life how it was meant to be lived? I've been throwing this word in front of all sorts of other things to make it some sort of better. I could probably explain to you what I usually mean when I say real in reference to someone else, but when I kept describing my own life experiences and my efforts of just trying to be real... I fell short.

Help me out here.

Back from the City & Colour

We've been passing through the mountains now for about four hours when a conversation erupts. The backseat is talking of past flames of all sorts, with a kind of casual familiarity; as if we should all be familiar with it. I don't intrude as to not seem like a tourist in the car, but it makes me painfully aware of myself for a little while. I've never been that kind of person, you know, the kind of person who has endless tales of silly relationships or people that were especially fond of me that I had to "let down easy" you know. And that's always been a popular topic to bring about self awareness in my case; I’m just not really the biggest ladies man I guess you could say. I start wondering about why I might not have had all these people wandering through my memories to add to the conversation.

This is the part where I put down my pious mantle of awesomeness to admit that I'm not perfect. Have you ever started to become very aware of your brokenness? Like you’re not put together right and the way that feels natural really isn't the right way. I think everyone does from time to time.

This is the silly part of my tale, because I start to think about all the things that I do that people don't like. How could I change myself to create a more suitable person to be on a girls’ arm. As I'm thinking about all this, to further my purposes of adding to this explosion of stories in the backseat, I very quickly realize that I'm heading down a very inwardly focused road. I guess there's nothing wrong with bettering yourself, but it just seemed like I was missing something and my focus needed fixing. So now I'm left with a broken image of what I feel like I'm supposed to be, and for now, I think I'm sort of ok with it.

I feel like I just want to meditate on it is all. Something doesn’t seem right but I don’t know what.

Am I just a machine that wasn't put together properly and needs some repairing? Is it as simple as finding the right pieces and putting them in the right places and I'll be a "good" person? But for some reason that doesn't seem like it'd be good enough...

Reality has a well known liberal bias

Sometimes I look back at how I was. Sometimes it seems like I did less "bad stuff" than I do now, or whatever you right wing politicians want to call it. But follow my meandering thought process as I consider a few things...

I saw a kid at the intersection of Saanich and Blanshard the other day, and he had a sign that showed a burger and fries. I could have argued for days on how he could just as easily go and spend any money i give him on drugs or alcohol. Or maybe how he should just go get a job like everyone else. I would have never had a problem driving right on by him and would never have even felt a hint of empathy, but just the other day I found myself considering how I would be feeling if I had nothing. What if I was forced to such a desperate act of begging on the street and trusting on the generosity of others to fill my stomach.

And this is what I have come to consider... I think I was plagued by a different sort of sin. A kind of sin that the world has taught me to so cleverly cover up. It was the sin of contempt of others. It was the sin of unforgiveness... and the list goes on. They were attitudes that I so deviously convinced myself were justified.

This day though, I was moved to consider how I would hope to be treated if I was in such deplorable state of poverty. I decided to show that I care about him more than the five dollar bill in my pocket. I didn't worry about what he was going to do with it. All I can be expected to do is show to him that I value him as a person and can empathize with his poverty. I can't extend him love with the conditions that he must go purchase a value meal at some fast food joint. We have been given love unconditionally and I should hope that I can give him that as well.

That was wordy and I admire you if you are still reading... but I felt like I really wanted to give an example of the sins that I was ignoring for so long. That's just an example though. And these sins I was brushing under the carpet seem just as plentiful (if not more) than these new ones that I am seeing. But you know what? I feel like I'm living in an arena of sin that I have a chance against. I am becoming more and more aware of my sins and the things that I want to change about myself. I am now convinced that being generous whenever possible is a better way to live. I am convinced that loving a person without any sort of agenda is a better way to love. I feel like when I sin now, I'm no longer fighting blindly but am making leaps and bounds and finding the person I've been created to be.

Does that make sense to anyone?

The Blowers Daughter

I think that the book I'm reading right now is dangerous to the health of my normal life. I jumped into "Through Painted Deserts" the other day while I was hanging around at the West Arm Grill for Cam's last day. I'm less than a third of the way through, and he hasn't really told me anything about anything, but I feel like things just make more sense now than they might have before.

So while I read this book, I'm more and more leaning towards this preference of mine to just live life and stop worrying about what is ok and what is not. Life is not about following rules, life is about living and rules were only meant to make it more comfortable. But the more I let life take me away, I start to see some parts of me that sometimes do things that I not a big fan of. But the interesting part is, I doesn't make me feel like a horrible person. It sort of makes me want to find that part of me I haven't surrendered yet, and give it over to God so that I can continue really and truly living.

Does anyone else ever feel like they've just been being the person they feel they're supposed to be and not the person they feel that they are? I'd hate to avoid the real me in some silly hopes that I will be able to avoid my real problems.

Sooo alone

I don't think I can ever remember being quite as alone as I feel this weekend. Why does everyone disappear at the same time? ooor get a job at a hotel and start doing graveyard shifts? This is my emo post for the month, sad sad sad.