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Saturday, September 30, 2006

Two steps backwards is making progress

I'm experiencing a rebirth of sorts. Today I was in a crowded place, and I was strangely aware of all the strangers. Normally I feel safe and calm around many unknown people. Today I felt vulnerable and not in control. I'm changing. Living for those that I do not know is not good because I leave behind the ones that I love. My exploration of the world should never lead me to forsake home. I am moving inward and backwards, hoping to recover what I have lost, hoping to connect again with the world of my deepest friends and loves. I will always be an adventurer, that will never change, but my new journeys to the unknown will always end once again in the place I am loved for who I am, not for what I bring to the table.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

What should I call this post?

I've been struck by this thought - what if I turned every "should" in to reality? How different would my life be? The prospect of eternity or the afterlife, if you believe in it, either makes you completely apathetic because nothing here really matters or obsessively passionate about every minute you live right now because you are practicing for eternity.

My pastor has said that earth is a chance to begin practicing heaven. The first part of walking in heaven now is opening the heart to the sacrifice of Jesus... but too many people who label themselves Christians stop there and so their lives become hopelessly boring. If it is really possible that the God of life can live inside of people, then I'm very excited about that and how it impacts my reality. And so that brings us back to the "shoulds."

I should hug my family more.
I should love the person whose attitude bothers me at work everyday.
I should give my money to the poor and the church.
I should make that phone call even though I'm tired.
I should become more politically active.
I should waste less time watching TV.
I should learn how to write in cursive so I can write letters.
I should not spend more money on things I don't need.
I should stop and explore that park.
I should jam with my pops.

Those are a few of mine, some I've done, some are hard for me to do.

What are your shoulds? Make them a reality.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Communion

Tonight I was driving to the gym and I felt a sort of tightness in my chest, a little sadness and a little aprehension about the future. I tried to pinpoint the source of it, but couldn't.

Then, I played the scripture on CD and the peace of God came in. I was really struck by how simple the Lord's real solution is to our problems. He wants us to eat His Word and drink His blood.

It's that simple, and that mysterious.

The Brink of Madness




The Brink of Madness
A familiar place.

By Victor Davis Hanson

When I used to read about the 1930s — the Italian invasion of Abyssinia, the rise of fascism in Italy, Spain, and Germany, the appeasement in France and Britain, the murderous duplicity of the Soviet Union, and the racist Japanese murdering in China — I never could quite figure out why, during those bleak years, Western Europeans and those in the United States did not speak out and condemn the growing madness, if only to defend the millennia-long promise of Western liberalism.

Of course, the trauma of the Great War was all too fresh, and the utopian hopes for the League of Nations were not yet dashed. The Great Depression made the thought of rearmament seem absurd. The connivances of Stalin with Hitler — both satanic, yet sometimes in alliance, sometimes not — could confuse political judgments.

But nevertheless it is still surreal to reread the fantasies of Chamberlain, Daladier, and Pope Pius, or the stump speeches by Charles Lindbergh (“Their [the Jews’] greatest danger to this country lies in their large ownership and influence in our motion pictures, our press, our radio, and our government”) or Father Coughlin (“Many people are beginning to wonder whom they should fear most — the Roosevelt-Churchill combination or the Hitler-Mussolini combination.”) — and baffling to consider that such men ever had any influence.

Not any longer.

Our present generation too is on the brink of moral insanity. That has never been more evident than in the last three weeks, as the West has proven utterly unable to distinguish between an attacked democracy that seeks to strike back at terrorist combatants, and terrorist aggressors who seek to kill civilians.

It is now nearly five years since jihadists from the Arab world left a crater in Manhattan and ignited the Pentagon. Apart from the frontline in Iraq, the United States and NATO have troops battling the Islamic fascists in Afghanistan. European police scramble daily to avoid another London or Madrid train bombing. The French, Dutch, and Danish governments are worried that a sizable number of Muslim immigrants inside their countries are not assimilating, and, more worrisome, are starting to demand that their hosts alter their liberal values to accommodate radical Islam. It is apparently not safe for Australians in Bali, and a Jew alone in any Arab nation would have to be discreet — and perhaps now in France or Sweden as well. Canadians’ past opposition to the Iraq war, and their empathy for the Palestinians, earned no reprieve, if we can believe that Islamists were caught plotting to behead their prime minister. Russians have been blown up by Muslim Chechnyans from Moscow to Beslan. India is routinely attacked by Islamic terrorists. An elected Lebanese minister must keep in mind that a Hezbollah or Syrian terrorist — not an Israeli bomb — might kill him if he utters a wrong word. The only mystery here in the United States is which target the jihadists want to destroy first: the Holland Tunnel in New York or the Sears Tower in Chicago.

In nearly all these cases there is a certain sameness: The Koran is quoted as the moral authority of the perpetrators; terrorism is the preferred method of violence; Jews are usually blamed; dozens of rambling complaints are aired, and killers are often considered stateless, at least in the sense that the countries in which they seek shelter or conduct business or find support do not accept culpability for their actions.

Yet the present Western apology to all this is often to deal piecemeal with these perceived Muslim grievances: India, after all, is in Kashmir; Russia is in Chechnya; America is in Iraq, Canada is in Afghanistan; Spain was in Iraq (or rather, still is in Al Andalus); or Israel was in Gaza and Lebanon. Therefore we are to believe that “freedom fighters” commit terror for political purposes of “liberation.” At the most extreme, some think there is absolutely no pattern to global terrorism, and the mere suggestion that there is constitutes “Islamaphobia.”

Here at home, yet another Islamic fanatic conducts an act of al Qaedism in Seattle, and the police worry immediately about the safety of the mosques from which such hatred has in the past often emanated — as if the problem of a Jew being murdered at the Los Angeles airport or a Seattle civic center arises from not protecting mosques, rather than protecting us from what sometimes goes on in mosques.

But then the world is awash with a vicious hatred that we have not seen in our generation: the most lavish film in Turkish history, “Valley of the Wolves,” depicts a Jewish-American harvesting organs at Abu Ghraib in order to sell them; the Palestinian state press regularly denigrates the race and appearance of the American Secretary of State; the U.N. secretary general calls a mistaken Israeli strike on a U.N. post “deliberate,” without a word that his own Blue Helmets have for years watched Hezbollah arm rockets in violation of U.N. resolutions, and Hezbollah’s terrorists routinely hide behind U.N. peacekeepers to ensure impunity while launching missiles.

If you think I exaggerate the bankruptcy of the West or only refer to the serial ravings on the Middle East of Pat Buchanan or Jimmy Carter, consider some of the most recent comments from Hezbollah chief Hassan Nasrallah about Israel: “When the people of this temporary country lose their confidence in their legendary army, the end of this entity will begin [emphasis added].” Then compare Nasrallah’s remarks about the U.S: “To President Bush, Prime Minister Olmert and every other tyrannical aggressor. I want to invite you to do what you want, practice your hostilities. By God, you will not succeed in erasing our memory, our presence or eradicating our strong belief. Your masses will soon waste away, and your days are numbered [emphasis added].”

And finally examine here at home reaction to Hezbollah — which has butchered Americans in Lebanon and Saudi Arabia — from a prominent Democratic Congressman, John Dingell:
“I don’t take sides for or against Hezbollah.” And isn’t that the point, after all: the amoral Westerner cannot exercise moral judgment because he no longer has any?

An Arab rights group, between denunciations of Israel and America, is suing its alma mater the United States for not evacuating Arab-Americans quickly enough from Lebanon, despite government warnings of the dangers of going there, and the explicit tactics of Hezbollah, in the manner of Saddam Hussein, of using civilians as human shields in the war it started against Israel.

Demonstrators on behalf of Hezbollah inside the United States — does anyone remember our 241 Marines slaughtered by these cowardly terrorists? — routinely carry placards with the Star of David juxtaposed with Swastikas, as voices praise terrorist killers. Few Arab-American groups these past few days have publicly explained that the sort of violence, tyranny, and lawlessness of the Middle East that drove them to the shores of a compassionate and successful America is best epitomized by the primordial creed of Hezbollah.

There is no need to mention Europe, an entire continent now returning to the cowardice of the 1930s. Its cartoonists are terrified of offending Muslim sensibilities, so they now portray the Jews as Nazis, secure that no offended Israeli terrorist might chop off their heads. The French foreign minister meets with the Iranians to show solidarity with the terrorists who promise to wipe Israel off the map (“In the region there is of course a country such as Iran — a great country, a great people and a great civilization which is respected and which plays a stabilizing role in the region”) — and manages to outdo Chamberlain at Munich. One wonders only whether the prime catalyst for such French debasement is worry over oil, terrorists, nukes, unassimilated Arab minorities at home, or the old Gallic Jew-hatred.

It is now a cliché to rant about the spread of postmodernism, cultural relativism, utopian pacifism, and moral equivalence among the affluent and leisured societies of the West. But we are seeing the insidious wages of such pernicious theories as they filter down from our media, universities, and government — and never more so than in the general public’s nonchalance since Hezbollah attacked Israel.

These past few days the inability of millions of Westerners, both here and in Europe, to condemn fascist terrorists who start wars, spread racial hatred, and despise Western democracies is the real story, not the “quarter-ton” Israeli bombs that inadvertently hit civilians in Lebanon who live among rocket launchers that send missiles into Israeli cities and suburbs.

Yes, perhaps Israel should have hit more quickly, harder, and on the ground; yes, it has run an inept public relations campaign; yes, to these criticisms and more. But what is lost sight of is the central moral issue of our times: a humane democracy mired in an asymmetrical war is trying to protect itself against terrorists from the 7th century, while under the scrutiny of a corrupt world that needs oil, is largely anti-Semitic and deathly afraid of Islamic terrorists, and finds psychic enjoyment in seeing successful Western societies under duress.

In short, if we wish to learn what was going on in Europe in 1938, just look around.

Victor Davis Hanson is a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution. He is the author, most recently, of A War Like No Other. How the Athenians and Spartans Fought the Peloponnesian War.


National Review Online - http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=ZDBhMzg5Mzk4NjQ5MjM5OTJhZjRjMWQ4OWMzNDhmMzk=

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Abandon

Ah, such a whirlwind of thoughts, really stirred up more by how I'm living than by any conscious decision to have them.

A while ago, I wrote to myself about myself, because I tend to do things like that. Usually I'm very introspective and at the same time very open and vulnerable. I wrote to myself about my "superhero complex", which perhaps I'll talk more about some other time, but suffice it to say that I was identifying a tendency in me to believe that no-one could understand me. It all really boiled down to narccisism, to be quite blunt, Christopher, if you don't mind -- no I don't at all, continue.

Right on. So living in my world looked like a mix of love for people that was tempered by an inability to really feel natural about them because I somehow had gotten hung up on the idea that they didn't understand me.

Once I knew that about myself, I really didn't know what to do, until last week, my trainer at work let me know about the feedback I was getting back from my team members. They seemed to think I was a good boss, catching on quickly, but I was completely lacking any sort of personal relationship. What? -- I thought to myself at first. I'm great with people! But no, this was something worth digging deeper for.

So I really thought hard about my interactions and realized that something was missing. To them, I was becoming "the boss", "the man", "big brother", all things which ironically are about as far from my personality as could be. My team did what I asked, but with no joy and some fear. Could this be possible? Is it really true that the friendly, listening, open-minded Christopher was only "the boss" to them?

I decided to latch onto the simple thought that every moment was a chance to build something deeper. The next day I spent about an hour listening, walking, asking, helping, calming -- maybe not very well, but I knew something was changing. I saw walls go down in peoples eyes, and laughter behind them when I was around, and they started to joke with me. It wasn't perfect, but there were no more scared looks, no more distaste when I assigned a task, even the general defensiveness started to melt.

And it's still going on, but I'm so excited because I'm learning to let go and abandon myself to the strengths of others and help them dream and live and show them that I'm on their side.

It's all very beautiful to me.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Free-thought

Waterwallways
Here I am awake but bleeding from the slow love
That plagues me, makes me.
Eternal pounding, pumping, precipitates my Love.

I don't know what to make of this,
representing my heart is a lost art,
lost by me of all people, and yet not quite lost
Held in the mystery of Jesus guiding loving
While I stumble for bits and look up for light
The night is right sometimes to hide the moon
Eyes more keen to catch light
Shadows are places where bright rays chill
Holding hope for the alley cats shimmering broken glass
Awaits the day when the Son returns
To put Humpty together again

Or better yet, Humpty's shell broken fell
Now, not refinished but replaced
Not taped together
His jagged sad face
Looks nigh, where the Son draws.
Does he draw as he draws?
Does he color as he rides?
Does he love the bride he sees broken?
Her Humpty face looks up to catch a ray
Awaiting the glory day when this shell won't hold her the jagged edge won't hurt her
The Lover has arrived to transport her
Fly Lord, as my heart bleeds beauty with the alley cats

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Iris

Look at the pictures. This site always moves me.

Healing Poem

My heart is like an iceberg

Not cold and hard

But seven-tenths hidden

If I love you only

With the tenths that show

My love won't last the course

But if I am to love you

With my whole heart

I must face the pain

Of hidden things

Surfacing

Come, Lord

With the Titanic of your love

Collide with my heart

And in that great collision

Let it be my reservations

That sink forever


Original Context

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Ahorita

There are some things that make me melancholy. Like:

the fact that people get old and die,
that people spend so much of their time working at jobs without much to show for it except a paycheck,
that people are lonely, that time moves on,
that so much of the past is in the dark and memories only hold so much water,
et cetera ad nauseum. :-)

Thinking like that can really slow you down.

So, I try to let go of it. Because you really can't change any of that. People will still die, still grow old, time will still meander on, many memories will fade, and I can't stop everyone from being lonely.

And really the solution has nothing to do with being melancholy. I live in now, whether I like it or not. Fighting NOW is a waste of time. One time someone told me that John 3:16 was written in Greek something like this: "For God so loved the world that whoever is believing in Him will not perish, but have eternal life." I love that because to me it talks about discovering God's love now, now, now. The future is overrated sometimes. We think about what we are want to be when we grow up and who we will marry and what we will look like when we are bald. LAME! I wonder how much time I've wasted worrying about the future that could have been spent growing in LOVE. It's about who we are becoming, not who we were, or who we will be. God holds those other things for us, and it doesn't get Him bent out of shape like it would for us.

Ah... i want to know Jesus' love... so tangible and real. The Lord has been a theory for too long. Capture my heart Jesus.