Is it time...to quit yet?
Please...
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I'm just feeling out into the empty white spaces...leaning forward before I jump, taking into account for the wind before I just plunge headfirst into the nothingness that feels so encompassing.
This white page of potential is so hazardous to my writing...my desire for art...for peace and for peeling back the layers of my soul.
What is good?
What is pure?
What is right to write about?
Purpose...purpose...fell purpose and dread.
Hope in the future, that grace has and will continue to fall upon me...fallen that I am.
This white page of potential is so hazardous to my writing...my desire for art...for peace and for peeling back the layers of my soul.
What is good?
What is pure?
What is right to write about?
Purpose...purpose...fell purpose and dread.
Hope in the future, that grace has and will continue to fall upon me...fallen that I am.
Quote of the Day:
"Biblical orthodoxy without compassion is surely the ugliest thing in the world."
-Francis Schaeffer
-Francis Schaeffer
Monday, March 29, 2010
"What an arduous task, it proves such a feat to be only one of a kind,
Through the scenery slips through the spaces we meet,
Press forward and leave me behind,
What a child you are, for you look just like me,
Looking out for number one, I'm all that I have and all that I see,
Saved by the grace of the Son,
So shall we deny?
And rot as we die?
As I write a book about me,
My noble wealth of serving myself,
I am so selfish it's funny."
Through the scenery slips through the spaces we meet,
Press forward and leave me behind,
What a child you are, for you look just like me,
Looking out for number one, I'm all that I have and all that I see,
Saved by the grace of the Son,
So shall we deny?
And rot as we die?
As I write a book about me,
My noble wealth of serving myself,
I am so selfish it's funny."
Quote of the Day:
"God is not moody or capricious; He knows no seasons of change. He has a single relentless stance toward us: He loves us. He is the only God man has ever heard of who loves sinners. False gods--the gods of human manufacturing--despise sinners, but the Father of Jesus loves all, no matter what they do."
-Brennan Manning
-Brennan Manning
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Rejoice
Why do I?
I'm so tired of...disappointment and getting upset over small things...really things not even worth consideration or bothering with...
...but at the same time I try.
Too hard.
Much too hard.
Jesus...why can I not just be happy with what I have?
Why do I strive for absolutes and the perfection that doesn't exsist?
Why am I such an idiot that I cannot simply let the past be?
I really just want to hit myself.
Really, really, really hard with the hope that the pain would shock me out of the idiotic fantasy playground I have been living in.
Reality, truth...is people do not care.
Most could care less about anyone but themselves and the problems of those around them...much less the whole world.
Why am I differnt?
Why do I care at all?
Does it matter if I even try?
I can't change the world, I can't even change myself, change the anger and bitter pain inside of me...so why am I so stupid and delusional to think I can do anything to help the world?
"He helped others but he cannot even help himself."
I just want to fall on my knees, yell and scream to the heavens.
Proclaim my incompetence, my sin and my failures...oh Lord, oh Lord what do I have to offer to thee?
I am so incomplete.
I need You, oh Lord I need thee.
I need you.
"I try to sing this song loud
I try to stand up
But I can't find my feet
I try, I try to speak up
But only in you I'm complete
Gloria, in te domine
Gloria, exultate
Gloria, Gloria
Oh Lord, loosen my lips"
I'm so tired of...disappointment and getting upset over small things...really things not even worth consideration or bothering with...
...but at the same time I try.
Too hard.
Much too hard.
Jesus...why can I not just be happy with what I have?
Why do I strive for absolutes and the perfection that doesn't exsist?
Why am I such an idiot that I cannot simply let the past be?
I really just want to hit myself.
Really, really, really hard with the hope that the pain would shock me out of the idiotic fantasy playground I have been living in.
Reality, truth...is people do not care.
Most could care less about anyone but themselves and the problems of those around them...much less the whole world.
Why am I differnt?
Why do I care at all?
Does it matter if I even try?
I can't change the world, I can't even change myself, change the anger and bitter pain inside of me...so why am I so stupid and delusional to think I can do anything to help the world?
"He helped others but he cannot even help himself."
I just want to fall on my knees, yell and scream to the heavens.
Proclaim my incompetence, my sin and my failures...oh Lord, oh Lord what do I have to offer to thee?
I am so incomplete.
I need You, oh Lord I need thee.
I need you.
"I try to sing this song loud
I try to stand up
But I can't find my feet
I try, I try to speak up
But only in you I'm complete
Gloria, in te domine
Gloria, exultate
Gloria, Gloria
Oh Lord, loosen my lips"
Friday, March 26, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
I miss playing music a lot.
But more than that...I miss the bond and the feeling of standing against the world with my brothers.
I miss that in so many ways, more than words can express.
That at least, is the beauty of being in a band with like minded people attempting to make a difference in the world.
But there is a reason...and a means and a meaning...
But more than that...I miss the bond and the feeling of standing against the world with my brothers.
I miss that in so many ways, more than words can express.
That at least, is the beauty of being in a band with like minded people attempting to make a difference in the world.
But there is a reason...and a means and a meaning...
Just An Idiot
My hands tremble from caffeine
and stress of bearing my soul into writing,
emotional history
becoming distress,
dissimulating reality
only as I have seen it
and as the music blares from the machines
to the earphones,
into my soul.
I find it impossible
to not consider,
to not wonder
and think of how you fare as
one who lives in another world,
so far away
and apart from anything I have known.
I'll be wide awake thinking about the cross
and the sacred bond
that binds the hearts of all who believe
and I wish your heart well in its venture.
It is always silly to base life on dreams
but if all were to dream
and there was hope for only one
my prayer
and the hope I dare
is that this dream continues to blossom
and bloom
bringing you joy
from here until eternity.
From the hands of the Father
may the blessings fill your heart
to such levels of overflowing
that you loose footing
and drift into His arms tonight.
and stress of bearing my soul into writing,
emotional history
becoming distress,
dissimulating reality
only as I have seen it
and as the music blares from the machines
to the earphones,
into my soul.
I find it impossible
to not consider,
to not wonder
and think of how you fare as
one who lives in another world,
so far away
and apart from anything I have known.
I'll be wide awake thinking about the cross
and the sacred bond
that binds the hearts of all who believe
and I wish your heart well in its venture.
It is always silly to base life on dreams
but if all were to dream
and there was hope for only one
my prayer
and the hope I dare
is that this dream continues to blossom
and bloom
bringing you joy
from here until eternity.
From the hands of the Father
may the blessings fill your heart
to such levels of overflowing
that you loose footing
and drift into His arms tonight.
"Sure Shot" - The O.C. Supertones
"I wanna do the right thing.
I wanna be the sure shot.
I wanna have my mind straight.
I wanna have my point got.
I wanna be a good man,
I wanna have my act down.
I wanna be the future
and I wanna be right now.
Sometimes I feel
like I can change the world.
But I don't know where to start.
I dig and come up empty,
clutching an empty heart.
I wanna see a life change.
I wanna see a new man.
I wanna fight the good fight.
I wanna take the right stand.
I wanna be like Jesus.
I wanna pour my heart out.
I wanna pick my cross up.
I wanna hear the mob shout.
I'm wide awake
and thinking about the cross,
the Trinity apart.
I dig and come up empty,
clutching an empty heart."
A Sojourn into the Shadowlands
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
-Revelation 21:4
The photo series of ‘Murder She Wrote’ by Angelique Strum is a rare example of a provocative, thought evoking and truly artistic endeavor by an artist who is a Christian. Although the definition of what makes a Christian artist is a topic better left for another essay it will suffice to say that by using such an uncompromising theme in her work it is pointing to higher things than the frivolities found in works by the likes of Thomas Kinkade. Similar to the gospel of Jesus, her art is forcing people to move beyond mere religious sentimental platitudes and force people to deal with the taboo and awkward subject of death in incredibly concrete terms.
In Jungian psychoanalysis one of the most recognizable archetypes is that of the Shadow. This Shadow is made up of the darker aspects of our inner conscious and the biggest pains that people seek to repress in their lives. Jung wrote that "Everyone carries a shadow and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” By acting as a sounding board art is able to draw out these darker thoughts and repressed emotions that would otherwise never be considered or properly dealt with.
One the single most difficult subjects for me to write, speak or much less talk about is that of family. The Christian subculture in the southeast tends to portray the typical all-American Nuclear family as the norm and anything existing outside of that as being abnormal, dirty and something to be ashamed of. Given the choice who would want to grow up barely having contact with their father and then loose him at the age of eight? Who would want to grow up having to navigate the conundrum of life, having to discover what it really means to be a man and having no one to guide them by the hand?
From some of my earliest memories up until today I have dealt with issues of low-self-esteem, bouts of deep depression and intense moments of social anxiety. Based on my brief reading of the work of Jung and the intense reaction I had from viewing Strum’s art collection I believe there is a correlation between these issues and my inability to properly confront the Shadow dwelling in my soul. I have come to believe that the longer I go without reconciling my perception of reality with what is true, the greater the crash will be when I can no longer go about living as though everything was alright.
One of the ways that this Shadow has manifested itself in recent years is concerning my ability to follow through with my faith in feeling called to serve in ministry work. Even though I have had a deep seated faith in Jesus Christ since I was nine years old there has been this hole in my heart, this deep aching that will never be filled because of my dad being taken away from me. The reality of the situation is that I am human. I am a paradox that is simultaneously full of faith, hope, fear and doubt about the goodness of God in a world marred and in decay because of death and the evils of humanity.
There are enough wolves posing as sheep that inhabit the pulpit, the last thing the church needs is another actor pretending to have their life in perfect order. In the course of examining this art I heard the word of Jesus echo in my head, his demand in Matthew 16:24-26 that:
“If any of you want to be my followers, you must forget about yourself. You must take up your cross and follow me. If you want to save your life, you will destroy it. But if you give up your life for me, you will find it. What will you gain, if you own the whole world but destroy yourself? What would you give to get back your soul?”
By refusing to confront the darkness hiding in this Shadow I have been refusing to be myself and refusing to accept the fact I am in fact human. To carry the cross of Christ means to accept my broken nature and the absolute fact I cannot live this life on my own. I have to cast aside this addiction and crutch of hubris before it envelops my soul. Instead of a lifestyle based on the lie of "do it yourself Christianity" I must come clean about my weakness and my need for a Savior outside of myself.
True art will only change the world if it forces people to examine who they are, what they believe and why they believe it. Unless this confrontation occurs than a person will continue on a religious path best describe by Marx as being the “opiate of the masses”. A person can only begin to truly find themselves when they cast aside the charade they have grown comfortable with and begin to look deep into the Shadowy abyss of their broken soul and cry out for help.
-Friedrich Nietzsche
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
-Revelation 21:4
The photo series of ‘Murder She Wrote’ by Angelique Strum is a rare example of a provocative, thought evoking and truly artistic endeavor by an artist who is a Christian. Although the definition of what makes a Christian artist is a topic better left for another essay it will suffice to say that by using such an uncompromising theme in her work it is pointing to higher things than the frivolities found in works by the likes of Thomas Kinkade. Similar to the gospel of Jesus, her art is forcing people to move beyond mere religious sentimental platitudes and force people to deal with the taboo and awkward subject of death in incredibly concrete terms.
In Jungian psychoanalysis one of the most recognizable archetypes is that of the Shadow. This Shadow is made up of the darker aspects of our inner conscious and the biggest pains that people seek to repress in their lives. Jung wrote that "Everyone carries a shadow and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” By acting as a sounding board art is able to draw out these darker thoughts and repressed emotions that would otherwise never be considered or properly dealt with.
One the single most difficult subjects for me to write, speak or much less talk about is that of family. The Christian subculture in the southeast tends to portray the typical all-American Nuclear family as the norm and anything existing outside of that as being abnormal, dirty and something to be ashamed of. Given the choice who would want to grow up barely having contact with their father and then loose him at the age of eight? Who would want to grow up having to navigate the conundrum of life, having to discover what it really means to be a man and having no one to guide them by the hand?
From some of my earliest memories up until today I have dealt with issues of low-self-esteem, bouts of deep depression and intense moments of social anxiety. Based on my brief reading of the work of Jung and the intense reaction I had from viewing Strum’s art collection I believe there is a correlation between these issues and my inability to properly confront the Shadow dwelling in my soul. I have come to believe that the longer I go without reconciling my perception of reality with what is true, the greater the crash will be when I can no longer go about living as though everything was alright.
One of the ways that this Shadow has manifested itself in recent years is concerning my ability to follow through with my faith in feeling called to serve in ministry work. Even though I have had a deep seated faith in Jesus Christ since I was nine years old there has been this hole in my heart, this deep aching that will never be filled because of my dad being taken away from me. The reality of the situation is that I am human. I am a paradox that is simultaneously full of faith, hope, fear and doubt about the goodness of God in a world marred and in decay because of death and the evils of humanity.
There are enough wolves posing as sheep that inhabit the pulpit, the last thing the church needs is another actor pretending to have their life in perfect order. In the course of examining this art I heard the word of Jesus echo in my head, his demand in Matthew 16:24-26 that:
“If any of you want to be my followers, you must forget about yourself. You must take up your cross and follow me. If you want to save your life, you will destroy it. But if you give up your life for me, you will find it. What will you gain, if you own the whole world but destroy yourself? What would you give to get back your soul?”
By refusing to confront the darkness hiding in this Shadow I have been refusing to be myself and refusing to accept the fact I am in fact human. To carry the cross of Christ means to accept my broken nature and the absolute fact I cannot live this life on my own. I have to cast aside this addiction and crutch of hubris before it envelops my soul. Instead of a lifestyle based on the lie of "do it yourself Christianity" I must come clean about my weakness and my need for a Savior outside of myself.
True art will only change the world if it forces people to examine who they are, what they believe and why they believe it. Unless this confrontation occurs than a person will continue on a religious path best describe by Marx as being the “opiate of the masses”. A person can only begin to truly find themselves when they cast aside the charade they have grown comfortable with and begin to look deep into the Shadowy abyss of their broken soul and cry out for help.
A reaction to Marx's view on religion:
Those that view faith as being a crutch or a mere ‘opiate of the people’ are sadly mistaken. In true Christianity the crutches are taken away, the blinding fetters are ripped from our face and we are forced out of our complacency concerning the life around us. True faith in Jesus means a person is no longer concerned with their advancement but in how they may lower themselves to a place where they may serve ‘the less of these’. The only home for the Christian is in the gutters, the slums and ghettos of the world. The friends of a Christian are the prostitute, the beggar and drug junkie dying of AIDS.
There is no place for the politically minded, those seeking personal advancement and the fool who seeks to use God and His people for their gain. The opiate is only found in the dead church whose chief concern is building a tomb for an ignorant and stubborn people concerned only with the shades of paint on the church wall and raising enough money for a new steeple.
The true Christian is concerned with not how much to give but is grieved in their heart that they have gave everything but haven’t been able to feed all of the hungry, clothed all the naked and heal all the diseased.
There is no place for the politically minded, those seeking personal advancement and the fool who seeks to use God and His people for their gain. The opiate is only found in the dead church whose chief concern is building a tomb for an ignorant and stubborn people concerned only with the shades of paint on the church wall and raising enough money for a new steeple.
The true Christian is concerned with not how much to give but is grieved in their heart that they have gave everything but haven’t been able to feed all of the hungry, clothed all the naked and heal all the diseased.
Quote of the day:
"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."
-Friedrich Nietzsche
-Friedrich Nietzsche
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
"I'm not Looking for a miracle
Signs and Wonders are things thereof
I caught a glimpse of what You want from me
and what I have is not enough
I read the story one more time
of Those who gave to You Their lives
With no fear or compromise
I want Faith Like That
To see the dead rise
or to see You pass by
Oh I, I want Faith Like That
Whatever the cost
I'll suffer the loss, Oh I
I want the Faith That can move any mountain
and send them to the sea
I want the Faith that can break every stronghold
That keeps you, keeps you from me "
Signs and Wonders are things thereof
I caught a glimpse of what You want from me
and what I have is not enough
I read the story one more time
of Those who gave to You Their lives
With no fear or compromise
I want Faith Like That
To see the dead rise
or to see You pass by
Oh I, I want Faith Like That
Whatever the cost
I'll suffer the loss, Oh I
I want the Faith That can move any mountain
and send them to the sea
I want the Faith that can break every stronghold
That keeps you, keeps you from me "
Monday, March 22, 2010
"The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord I'm begging for one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will
This life has shown me how we're mended and how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be
And now that it's done
Well, if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don't care
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye"
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord I'm begging for one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will
This life has shown me how we're mended and how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be
And now that it's done
Well, if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don't care
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
Well, It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye"
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