Where St. Paul stood, too.

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I've been missing Greece a lot lately. I think a few people from our trip have taken a trip or two back in the past three years. I'd like to go soon, too. I think about how weird it is to know someone so well for a few months, only to either lose contact with them, or realize that you live in different states instead of the apartments next door to each other. It was getting drunk and laying out on nude beaches with your friends in paradise for 4 months. But actually, I used to think about those things a whole lot more than I do now. Lately, it's just fleeting.

Because I've been realizing also that people are supposed to keep moving. I miss my friends and that beautiful interim home, of course, but I love that everybody from that trip is probably doing something pretty awesome. I like where I am right now, partly because I don't know what's about to happen, and partly because I'm about to finish something pretty huge. Yeah, the big C-O-L-L-E-G-E, folks. I'm proud of myself for just finishing. I didn't think I would honestly. I don't really care about the degree because who the hell cares 5 years from now.

But back to Greece. Look at these sweet cartoonies:

Oh so Grecian and wonderfully cartooned. Greece is a place, you could say, where everything began. It's weird that we always say that everything we have comes from Ancient Greece. Things begin/began there. Words, architecture, culture, politics. I thought I was going to go find myself there 3 years ago. In a way I started over, or "began" there, but I realize in hindsight that I didn't need finding. Regardless, it was a really great trip.

Longevity

I think that heroism can be put into action in only a few select ways.

Saving a damsel in distress from the terrible prison of an evil and perverted covetous king is the classic picture of what heroism is to most people.

But I guess the most heroic thing I can think of is doing something that is good and right when most surrounding people reject that hero and that deed. The reason it really is heroic is because most people would never call it heroic. Whatever the the rejected deed, it is probably something that most others can never accept or understand. It's heroic because it stands alone-it happens, in different ways, only every once in a while. It doesn't matter that it changes maybe a handful of people, it just matters that a change did happen.

I love that a hero can still be a hero even when they aren't alive anymore. If they leave behind something with substance, a mark that withstands the mockery and spurning of everyone against it, it is still understood by some. That's the part that matters. The longevity of the heroism.

igbok

I always hear a lot of people say things like, "Life isn't always going to go your way."

But "Life" doesn't go anywhere. We go places.

And sometimes we mess up, and get frustrated with the time we waste, and wish that the "now" would actually be 5 years from now. Skipping ahead.

And sometimes I wish I could take the past 5 years and crumple them into a ball, like a damp newspaper, and throw it away, and start over.

Because most of the time I'm ignoring the beautiful things that are always, always happening to me. Because they're supposed to. I forget that while I was apparently "wasting" the last 5 years of my life in school, I fell in love. I began to write music. I made new friends. I lived so far away from home that Hercules couldn't get me back to Dallas for an emergency. That while I groaned about finding myself and hating life, the next day I loved it again, over and over and over. I dyed my hair who knows how many colors, and I worked at an Indian restaurant. I waited upon death with fear and grieved with hope for a friend. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and learned that, miraculously, I was going to actually graduate from college.

So in this time, God has stung my wounds, ripped me at the seams, and told me that I am exactly where I should be. My opportunities are endless. My life is rich and I have choices. I already know who I am, and I probably always have. Maybe it was that i wasn't happy with it yet.

And instead of the newspaper ball, these years can now be the front page of the Sunday paper, crisp, and thumbed through with my fingers. While I'm reading and absorbing every word-not skipping anything. And actually enjoying it.

Sanctuary.

I don't know a lot about why things happen in this world. I do know that there is an infinite Being who does, but who also doesn't want us to sometimes. Satan, that reprobate serpent that has so much control over the people and things of this world, somehow thinks that by creeping in, and messing with the small things, he is going to make shit hit the fan. And guess what, Satan? We both know that you're good at what you do. And sometimes on this earth, things go terribly, terribly wrong. Un-curable illnesses, fear, terrorism, all things that come from you. But maybe you've forgotten that the body of Christ is a living, breathing, impenetrable sanctuary of hope and life. Your ultimate destruction at the end of this finite existence will be the most glorious and victorious day for the coming of the LORD.

So, for the Matt Chandler's and Carson Leslie's and Apostle Paul's of this world:

I don't understand why Satan has so much power here, but I know that suffering happens in the midst of the glory of the living LORD. May we never cease to praise Him in the midst of suffering and doubt.

For Which It Stands

Last night I met people at work who encouraged me and lifted me up even though we were strangers. Again. But this time, we weren't really strangers.

And Indian couple came in to eat, not really a rare occurrence since it's an Indian restaurant, and it was a slow night so we started up a conversation. After small talk about the estrogen boosting effects of fennel, the woman told me that she and her husband live in Minnesota and that he is a pastor there. The Lord did not tell him to establish a physical church, but a comfortable place where all denominations can gather as ONE body of Christ to worship. Their goal, together and with their children, is to build up a restoration of God's presence in America.

Their names are Sharon and David Dawson, and I say we're not really strangers in the main sense of the word because we're part of the same BODY. David said that when he came to America when he was 24, he placed his hand on the Bible to become a citizen, and in his heart, was pledging his allegiance to GOD, the God that this nation was established on. This is no longer a "Christian" nation of course, but a melting pot of religions and cultures. One of the greatest things about America is that everyone has the freedom to believe what they want. But David makes it clear that his allegiance is not to a red white and blue flag, but to the God of this nation.

I rarely have encounters with friends, family or strangers in which the conversation is rolling on the Jesus train and just can't stop. When I realized that last night, I felt sad. To these people, these Indian Americans, these ripped from Hindu culture come to evangelize to the "Nation Under God" people, are totally on that train every singe day. For a purpose, too, and that's to get everyone else back on that train. Walking blessings.

I think that a lot of us quiet folk that call ourselves Christians should probably think some things over. Otherwise, what's the point at all?

Conviction, anyone?

2nd post of the day?

So,

The reason for the name of my blog:

I whispered, 'I am too young,'

And then, 'I am old enough';

Wherefore I threw a penny

To find out if I might love.

'Go and love, go and love, young man,

If the lady be young and fair.'

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,

I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,

There is nobody wise enough

To find out all that is in it,

For he would be thinking of love

Till the stars had run away

And the shadows eaten the moon.

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,

One cannot begin it too soon.

A Contrite Sinner's Prayer for Pardon.

Psalm 51

¹Be gracious to me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness;
According to the greatness of Your compassion blot out my transgressions.
² Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
And cleanse me from my sin.
³For I know my transgressions,
And my sin is ever before me.
⁴ Against You, You only, I have sinned
And done what is evil in Your sight,
So that You are justified when You speak
And blameless when You judge.
⁵Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
And in sin my mother conceived me.
⁶Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being,
And in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.
⁷Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
⁸Make me to hear joy and gladness,
Let the bones which You have broken rejoice.
⁹ Hide Your face from my sins
And blot out all my iniquities.
¹⁰ Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And renew a steadfast spirit within me.
¹¹ Do not cast me away from Your presence
And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
¹²Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
And sustain me with a willing spirit.
¹³Then I will teach transgressors Your ways,
And sinners will be converted to You.
¹⁴Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation;
Then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness.
¹⁵O Lord, open my lips,
That my mouth may declare Your praise.
¹⁶For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it;
You are not pleased with burnt offering.
¹⁷The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.
¹⁸ By Your favor do good to Zion;
Build the walls of Jerusalem.
¹⁹Then You will delight in righteous sacrifices,
In burnt offering and whole burnt offering;
Then young bulls will be offered on Your altar.