Life has a funny way of picking you up, right after it's nailed you right in bollocks. Just when it's looked you square in the eye, knocked you to the bottom rung, laughed at your defeat, it turns around and offers a helping hand to get you back up there.
I won't lie -- I feel like my life sucks every morning when I wake up. I feel cheated, I feel robbed, I feel lonely, I feel depressed, I feel confused, I feel angry, I feel desire; I feel like the life I'm living shouldn't be mine, or isn't mine at all. Like it belongs to some one else, but I'm just holding it for him or her until they can get back to me and reclaim it. I feel like I'm just a place holder, no more than a bookmark in the story of some one else's life, holding their place until they can finish.
Maybe that's true. Maybe that's what I've been designed to be, for now. Maybe that's the purpose God has called me to, to hold people's lives in place until they can finish on their own. That would be nice, that kind of service, but I believe there's more to my life than that. After all, the bookmark has a story too, right?
But to continue my thought, I'm hitting rock bottom on a weekly basis now. This isn't some inescapable, unpassable, unclimable wall. This is the rock bottom. And most days, when I've hit rock bottom, I just stay there until some one gives me a jack hammer and says get to work. And some days, let's use today as an example, I'm handed a giant earthmover and told I need to go extra deep, extra fast.
However, the days that make me want to go to sleep at night just so I can wake up in the morning are also days like today. Days when I've been drilling to what may be the very core of what I have left, and God just smiles. His smile is enough to stop me from where I'm going, and push me in the other direction.
I'm reminded of the movie "A Knight's Tale," when Geoffrey Chaucer is introducing our favorite protagonist, and he says "Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy-handed words." My day today is far too rare, far too precious, far too much a jewel for me to give over with exuberant expressions that don't convey the depth and beauty. I know in a few years I'll look back and know that this whole time God had His hand under me, carrying me daily, but right now this day is complete enough for me.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Move Along
Tonight is shaping up to be the most annoying night on duty yet. There is one resident in particular who has annoyed from the first day he moved in that does nothing but sit in the lobby every night and brag about how good he must be at whatever it is he happens to be playing at the time. And by brag, I really mean he says "YAAA CUDDAY!!!!"
The word "Cuddy" is a word I first heard as fashioned by the incredible Quincy Daniels. Quincy, or Chocolate Bear as I like to call him, only used it when he was talking to me as a word of encouragement in place of my name, and his pronunciation of the word was more like a "cuddy," but with the "y" sound dropped off a bit, almost to the point where you really weren't too sure what he was saying.
This kid uses it so frequently, I cringe every time I hear his voice because I know what's coming. Beyond that point, he's just an annoying bragadocious guy in the first place so if he were to disappear tomorrow, I probably wouldn't miss him even at all.
After this guy, there are the girls. The same girls who come into the lobby just about every night so they can hang out with the guys. Don't even get me started on this one. Let me say this much and I hope it will suffice -- GTFO!!!!!!1
Moving right along, I am coming to the ever clearing realization that I miss having the company of an awesome, genuine, real relationship of another person in my life. Maybe a girl and girlfriend, or maybe another amazing best guy friend I can phileo for life. Either way, I'm missing it.
But beyond just the normal missage I experience on a day-to-day basis, I find myself wondering about girls an awful lot. It has been some time since my last relationship with a girl, and I wonder if there is a girl out there with her eye on me, and if there is, I wonder how great she looks on a scale of 1-10. I have had my eye on a specific chica for some time now, however everytime I get near her I get so nervous I can't say anything, and so I pull out my phone and pretend that whatever it is on my phone is infinitely more interesting than looking around. I know that sounds odd, me with nothing to say, however she has some sort of effect on me to the point where I am rendered almost completely paralyzed. I haven't felt this in...oh, some time.
I am enjoying Greek. Greek=Fun for me.
Alright possums, I'm out.
The word "Cuddy" is a word I first heard as fashioned by the incredible Quincy Daniels. Quincy, or Chocolate Bear as I like to call him, only used it when he was talking to me as a word of encouragement in place of my name, and his pronunciation of the word was more like a "cuddy," but with the "y" sound dropped off a bit, almost to the point where you really weren't too sure what he was saying.
This kid uses it so frequently, I cringe every time I hear his voice because I know what's coming. Beyond that point, he's just an annoying bragadocious guy in the first place so if he were to disappear tomorrow, I probably wouldn't miss him even at all.
After this guy, there are the girls. The same girls who come into the lobby just about every night so they can hang out with the guys. Don't even get me started on this one. Let me say this much and I hope it will suffice -- GTFO!!!!!!1
Moving right along, I am coming to the ever clearing realization that I miss having the company of an awesome, genuine, real relationship of another person in my life. Maybe a girl and girlfriend, or maybe another amazing best guy friend I can phileo for life. Either way, I'm missing it.
But beyond just the normal missage I experience on a day-to-day basis, I find myself wondering about girls an awful lot. It has been some time since my last relationship with a girl, and I wonder if there is a girl out there with her eye on me, and if there is, I wonder how great she looks on a scale of 1-10. I have had my eye on a specific chica for some time now, however everytime I get near her I get so nervous I can't say anything, and so I pull out my phone and pretend that whatever it is on my phone is infinitely more interesting than looking around. I know that sounds odd, me with nothing to say, however she has some sort of effect on me to the point where I am rendered almost completely paralyzed. I haven't felt this in...oh, some time.
I am enjoying Greek. Greek=Fun for me.
Alright possums, I'm out.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Heroes
Heroes, the hit NBC show debuting last season on Monday nights at 8, returns this Monday, at 8 PM. I am excited.
The premise of the show is that their are people in the world born with advanced DNA that provides them with some sort of genetic superpower. Pretty much, they're mutants like in the X-Men universe. The main characters are
Peter Petrelli - a hospice nurse with a sponge-like ability similar to Rogue in X-Men, but different in that he can absorb a person's power permanently just by being in the vicinity of another "mutant."
Nathan Petrelli - Peter's older, politician brother who just won a fixed race for US Congress, and was picked by an elite, secret group of people to be the President in a few years. Nathan can fly.
Claire Bennet - Ever heard "Save the cheerleader, save the world?" She is that cheerleader. Biologically, she is Nathan's daughter, however she was raised by another man who worked for the aforementioned elite group. She can regenerate tissue and organs; she's got Wolverine's power.
Noah Bennet - A man with no powers of his own, but he worked for this elite group until he defected. He became Claire's adopted father because of his connection with this group.
Hiro Nakamura - A Japanese peon who can stop time, teleport, and travel through time. Last season he was last seen in feudal Japan approx. 400-600 years ago, caught between two warring parties.
Sylar/Gabrielle - The villain. His power is something weird, but he can "see how things," or "see how they're put together," and from this he took the ability of telekinesis from one man, and has stolen various other powers from various other characters. He does this by killing them, and eating their brains, or at least a specific part of their brain which contains their powers. He is Peter's counterpart, as they both possess more than one power because of their own natural power.
There are more characters to list, but these are just my favorites. There's a doctor, a woman whose split-personality is a super-strong killing machine, a little girl who can "find" people, no matter where they are, and various others.
Peter and Nathan were last seen flying off together moments before a gigantic explosion ripped through the night sky in NYC, leaving us to guess at whether they are dead or not. However, I have seen a teaser video for next season and Nathan was in it, and said Peter's name, but that doesn't mean they're both alive.
Anywho, Season 2 starts this Monday, and I have a colossal Greek exam on Tuesday, so I'll be watching Heroes, and then studying for Greek.
Ta ta
The premise of the show is that their are people in the world born with advanced DNA that provides them with some sort of genetic superpower. Pretty much, they're mutants like in the X-Men universe. The main characters are
Peter Petrelli - a hospice nurse with a sponge-like ability similar to Rogue in X-Men, but different in that he can absorb a person's power permanently just by being in the vicinity of another "mutant."
Nathan Petrelli - Peter's older, politician brother who just won a fixed race for US Congress, and was picked by an elite, secret group of people to be the President in a few years. Nathan can fly.
Claire Bennet - Ever heard "Save the cheerleader, save the world?" She is that cheerleader. Biologically, she is Nathan's daughter, however she was raised by another man who worked for the aforementioned elite group. She can regenerate tissue and organs; she's got Wolverine's power.
Noah Bennet - A man with no powers of his own, but he worked for this elite group until he defected. He became Claire's adopted father because of his connection with this group.
Hiro Nakamura - A Japanese peon who can stop time, teleport, and travel through time. Last season he was last seen in feudal Japan approx. 400-600 years ago, caught between two warring parties.
Sylar/Gabrielle - The villain. His power is something weird, but he can "see how things," or "see how they're put together," and from this he took the ability of telekinesis from one man, and has stolen various other powers from various other characters. He does this by killing them, and eating their brains, or at least a specific part of their brain which contains their powers. He is Peter's counterpart, as they both possess more than one power because of their own natural power.
There are more characters to list, but these are just my favorites. There's a doctor, a woman whose split-personality is a super-strong killing machine, a little girl who can "find" people, no matter where they are, and various others.
Peter and Nathan were last seen flying off together moments before a gigantic explosion ripped through the night sky in NYC, leaving us to guess at whether they are dead or not. However, I have seen a teaser video for next season and Nathan was in it, and said Peter's name, but that doesn't mean they're both alive.
Anywho, Season 2 starts this Monday, and I have a colossal Greek exam on Tuesday, so I'll be watching Heroes, and then studying for Greek.
Ta ta
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
I've got the world on a string
The title has absolutely nothing to do with this blog.
I don't think it's by any accident that the Catholic Church places top dollar value on the Grace of Perseverance. Nor do I also think it's by any accident that Protestans believe that faith is a journey that we must persevere through.
Lately, my life has sucked. If you've paid any attention to my ramblings, rants, and moans from a few weeks prior you would know that. Add on classes, add on SGA, add on RA responsibilities not even connected to living in Gettys, add on my hope and search and desire to find a church with which I can live and work and grow, add on a social life, and well, life can get full pretty quick.
My life has been full, real full, these past few weeks, and all I've wanted and desired are strong relationships to keep me enthused about life. Last night I feel as if I hit rock stinking bottom. I completely slammed into the deepest pit of what I've been feeling.
And what did God do in response to sunkeness?
He picked me up. He picked me up and showed me that I should be proactive in my life and relationships and He set me on a course to find out deep relationships with others. I was reminded of the perseverance it takes to continue living life with faith. I was reminded that when times get tough and I need to lean on some one, I shouldn't expect others to run to me to offer their arm, hand, shoulder, whatever it is that I need. I was reminded that despite whatever wrongs I feel I've suffered under the neglect, oversight, absent-mindedness, or mistreatment from my friends, I am not perfect and I do neglect and forget and mistreat.
I don't think it's by any accident that the Catholic Church places top dollar value on the Grace of Perseverance. Nor do I also think it's by any accident that Protestans believe that faith is a journey that we must persevere through.
Lately, my life has sucked. If you've paid any attention to my ramblings, rants, and moans from a few weeks prior you would know that. Add on classes, add on SGA, add on RA responsibilities not even connected to living in Gettys, add on my hope and search and desire to find a church with which I can live and work and grow, add on a social life, and well, life can get full pretty quick.
My life has been full, real full, these past few weeks, and all I've wanted and desired are strong relationships to keep me enthused about life. Last night I feel as if I hit rock stinking bottom. I completely slammed into the deepest pit of what I've been feeling.
And what did God do in response to sunkeness?
He picked me up. He picked me up and showed me that I should be proactive in my life and relationships and He set me on a course to find out deep relationships with others. I was reminded of the perseverance it takes to continue living life with faith. I was reminded that when times get tough and I need to lean on some one, I shouldn't expect others to run to me to offer their arm, hand, shoulder, whatever it is that I need. I was reminded that despite whatever wrongs I feel I've suffered under the neglect, oversight, absent-mindedness, or mistreatment from my friends, I am not perfect and I do neglect and forget and mistreat.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Back in the habit? Maybe, only maybe.
I'm putting this down now because I told myself I would this morning.
Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week.
Not because I'm a good little Christian and all good little Christians are brainwashed to think that "Keep the Sabbath Holy" is it; the goal and end in life.
I like Sundays because they are days that remind me of community. Days that remind me of fellowship. Days that have mornings full of love, and days that remind me of long afternoons with my parents at home. I guess, though, I really like Sundays because of Lifepoint.
This summer I lived for Sundays. I lived and longed and yearned and burned for a Sunday because on Sunday, I had a chance to sit and talk with Kevin, Jim, their wives and families, Greg, Joy, Matt, Courtney, Pam, Mark, Denise and anyone else who came through the door. I loved these opportunities because all week, I would be either
A) Confined to a house while my dad worked all day long, all week long and I had no one to talk to, or
B) I busted my butt all week long working on fences or doing yard work and so I had no source of intelligent conversation.
Wednesdays brought a mild dose of relief for me when I would teach the youth, but their expectations of Wednesday Night was the same as their expectations of a school day -- "maybe the teacher will teach, or maybe we'll get to do something fun." Either way it was like teaching goldfish because 10 minutes after I finished they were dancing around the room or sneaking off outside to go and do only the Lord knows what.
But to return to my original train of thought. I did not merely "go to church," on Sundays, I went to bible study; I went to worship. And I usually did both. However, now that I'm not at Lifepoint, I find myself looking at trying to find a new church body to go and worship with. I have charged myself with the task of finding a new place of worship and service and discipleship and I am left with the same thought after every "church service" I go to: I would much rather start a church than put up with this.
I would much rather start a new church that met in houses and homes instead of school cafeterias or a brand new "worship complex." I'd rather serve with 10 or 12 disciples who expect to change the world than sit next to 10 or 12 families who are checking off their list.
So, what's so different about this church and its Sunday morning services?
In this church that I'd love to start, the preaching is great. I've been a victim of lousy preaching before, and nothing kills your followership abilities and Spiritual Formation quite like lousy preaching. And the worship is real. We can have one guitarist, but as long as that one guitarist comes, expecting to encounter God in worship and praise, that's all we'll need. And I expect the members to not be merely members, but to be "doers of the Word." I expect life change as a result of meditating on Scripture. I expect the members to be in the world, changing the world.
Really, I don't know where this urge to start a church comes from. Maybe it comes from working at Lifepoint all summer long. Maybe it comes from Milfred Minatrea's Shaped by God's Heart. Maybe it comes from my tiredness of the current ecclesiastical tradition, and the "Purpose Driven Church" purposefully driving out the church. Maybe it comes from...
Well, I don't really know where it comes from, so I won't waste time with idle speculation.
Point is, I want to start a church, and change the world. And we'll do it on Sundays. Sunday, my favorite day, is now "Change the world day."
Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week.
Not because I'm a good little Christian and all good little Christians are brainwashed to think that "Keep the Sabbath Holy" is it; the goal and end in life.
I like Sundays because they are days that remind me of community. Days that remind me of fellowship. Days that have mornings full of love, and days that remind me of long afternoons with my parents at home. I guess, though, I really like Sundays because of Lifepoint.
This summer I lived for Sundays. I lived and longed and yearned and burned for a Sunday because on Sunday, I had a chance to sit and talk with Kevin, Jim, their wives and families, Greg, Joy, Matt, Courtney, Pam, Mark, Denise and anyone else who came through the door. I loved these opportunities because all week, I would be either
A) Confined to a house while my dad worked all day long, all week long and I had no one to talk to, or
B) I busted my butt all week long working on fences or doing yard work and so I had no source of intelligent conversation.
Wednesdays brought a mild dose of relief for me when I would teach the youth, but their expectations of Wednesday Night was the same as their expectations of a school day -- "maybe the teacher will teach, or maybe we'll get to do something fun." Either way it was like teaching goldfish because 10 minutes after I finished they were dancing around the room or sneaking off outside to go and do only the Lord knows what.
But to return to my original train of thought. I did not merely "go to church," on Sundays, I went to bible study; I went to worship. And I usually did both. However, now that I'm not at Lifepoint, I find myself looking at trying to find a new church body to go and worship with. I have charged myself with the task of finding a new place of worship and service and discipleship and I am left with the same thought after every "church service" I go to: I would much rather start a church than put up with this.
I would much rather start a new church that met in houses and homes instead of school cafeterias or a brand new "worship complex." I'd rather serve with 10 or 12 disciples who expect to change the world than sit next to 10 or 12 families who are checking off their list.
So, what's so different about this church and its Sunday morning services?
In this church that I'd love to start, the preaching is great. I've been a victim of lousy preaching before, and nothing kills your followership abilities and Spiritual Formation quite like lousy preaching. And the worship is real. We can have one guitarist, but as long as that one guitarist comes, expecting to encounter God in worship and praise, that's all we'll need. And I expect the members to not be merely members, but to be "doers of the Word." I expect life change as a result of meditating on Scripture. I expect the members to be in the world, changing the world.
Really, I don't know where this urge to start a church comes from. Maybe it comes from working at Lifepoint all summer long. Maybe it comes from Milfred Minatrea's Shaped by God's Heart. Maybe it comes from my tiredness of the current ecclesiastical tradition, and the "Purpose Driven Church" purposefully driving out the church. Maybe it comes from...
Well, I don't really know where it comes from, so I won't waste time with idle speculation.
Point is, I want to start a church, and change the world. And we'll do it on Sundays. Sunday, my favorite day, is now "Change the world day."
Saturday, September 8, 2007
A Brief Update
So, a brief update.
I have decided that the bushy, fuzzy face is no longer my preference. I am clean shaven baby.
I don't know how long this will last, but I like it. It's a clean break from my stubble days.
I don't really know where this came from, but I'm becomming more partial to having a smooth face more often than letting it grow into stubble, then trimming it back, then stubble, then trimming it back, then -- well, you get the idea. I don't know what sort of....style I'll be adopting now that I no longer have a beard. For a while I was extremely taken by the Brad Pitt look of a buzz cut and a stubble beard of equal length. But now, I'm digging the smooth look. Maybe I'll start working, go tanning, and grow my hair out and look like Brad Pitt from Troy.
What do you think?
Alright, I'm out.
I have decided that the bushy, fuzzy face is no longer my preference. I am clean shaven baby.
I don't know how long this will last, but I like it. It's a clean break from my stubble days.
I don't really know where this came from, but I'm becomming more partial to having a smooth face more often than letting it grow into stubble, then trimming it back, then stubble, then trimming it back, then -- well, you get the idea. I don't know what sort of....style I'll be adopting now that I no longer have a beard. For a while I was extremely taken by the Brad Pitt look of a buzz cut and a stubble beard of equal length. But now, I'm digging the smooth look. Maybe I'll start working, go tanning, and grow my hair out and look like Brad Pitt from Troy.
What do you think?
Alright, I'm out.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Whine, Complain, Calm Down, Think About It
The title, to be honest, is not mine. I wish I could claim it, but that kind of gold came from KB. Whether it's actually his or not, has yet to be determined.
But to the point of relevancy, I have whined, I have complained, I am in the process of calming down because I've thought about it, and now I'm ready to write.
Plainly and simply, Gettys is not so bad.
Moving on.
I love Dr. Oldham. He's a smart guy.
Our most recent discussions in Intro to Philosophy have been over the subject of Socrates, and his Ignorance and Method. Now, I love to play the fool. I'm the king of playing dumb. Probably almost any professor I've had at UMHB would vouch for me that I am much smarter and more well informed than I choose to let on. Now, while this is a far cry from actual Socratic Ignorance, to me, the two seem similar.
I don't actually know how smart I am, I don't believe that there is a specific way to measure how much somebody knows, but I do know that I never show all my cards when I'm betting.
Classic example, a classmate of mine wrote me off as not being as smart or studious as she was one time last fall.
"Yeah, as long as I can make a B I won't be too disappointed."
"Geoff, I made a 75 on that test, trust me, you won't make a B."
I colored her surprised the next day in class when my score was an exact 10 points higher than hers.
I guess where I'm going with this -- trust me, this isn't what I'm setting out to say, merely an appetizer to the main course -- is that I totally buy into Socratic Ignorance. I play dumb a lot in life -- yes, I know that is not exactly ignorance -- but at the same time I don't mess around with what I know to be true. And I know quite a bit. Really, the whole notion of Socratic Ignorance was simply encouraging to me, to know that I had some underlying depth to my arrogant charm.
Now, on to the main course.
I love the Socratic Method. I guess, if you've been with me from the beginning, you would know that really, "Want a better answer? Ask a better question." is really the Socratic Method in my own terminology.
One day in class, Dr. Oldham asked us "What's wrong with Samaritans?"
Me, "They're half-breeds!"
"Yes, I know they are, but where are they from?"
"SAMARIA!"
"Okay, Geoff, yes, you're right."
"You want a better answer, ask a better question."
Now, I don't really remember whether or not Dr. Oldham actually heard me smart off to him like I did, and to be honest I consider that a secondary concern, however I've stuck with that notion for a while now, hence, the Blog.
I like that I discovered, more or less, the Socratic Method on my own. I like that somewhere along the way in my life, I stumbled upon the right combination of pride, curiosity, hunger, and wisdom to think this way. Granted, Socrates was probably not smarting off to his teacher -- it was more like politicians and poets, really -- however it is, like the aforementioned philosophic jewel, encouraging to me, to know that I'm not a complete idiot, and that I am capable of some rather deep thoughts and understanding.
I just wish I could discover them on purpose, as did Socrates.
But to the point of relevancy, I have whined, I have complained, I am in the process of calming down because I've thought about it, and now I'm ready to write.
Plainly and simply, Gettys is not so bad.
Moving on.
I love Dr. Oldham. He's a smart guy.
Our most recent discussions in Intro to Philosophy have been over the subject of Socrates, and his Ignorance and Method. Now, I love to play the fool. I'm the king of playing dumb. Probably almost any professor I've had at UMHB would vouch for me that I am much smarter and more well informed than I choose to let on. Now, while this is a far cry from actual Socratic Ignorance, to me, the two seem similar.
I don't actually know how smart I am, I don't believe that there is a specific way to measure how much somebody knows, but I do know that I never show all my cards when I'm betting.
Classic example, a classmate of mine wrote me off as not being as smart or studious as she was one time last fall.
"Yeah, as long as I can make a B I won't be too disappointed."
"Geoff, I made a 75 on that test, trust me, you won't make a B."
I colored her surprised the next day in class when my score was an exact 10 points higher than hers.
I guess where I'm going with this -- trust me, this isn't what I'm setting out to say, merely an appetizer to the main course -- is that I totally buy into Socratic Ignorance. I play dumb a lot in life -- yes, I know that is not exactly ignorance -- but at the same time I don't mess around with what I know to be true. And I know quite a bit. Really, the whole notion of Socratic Ignorance was simply encouraging to me, to know that I had some underlying depth to my arrogant charm.
Now, on to the main course.
I love the Socratic Method. I guess, if you've been with me from the beginning, you would know that really, "Want a better answer? Ask a better question." is really the Socratic Method in my own terminology.
One day in class, Dr. Oldham asked us "What's wrong with Samaritans?"
Me, "They're half-breeds!"
"Yes, I know they are, but where are they from?"
"SAMARIA!"
"Okay, Geoff, yes, you're right."
"You want a better answer, ask a better question."
Now, I don't really remember whether or not Dr. Oldham actually heard me smart off to him like I did, and to be honest I consider that a secondary concern, however I've stuck with that notion for a while now, hence, the Blog.
I like that I discovered, more or less, the Socratic Method on my own. I like that somewhere along the way in my life, I stumbled upon the right combination of pride, curiosity, hunger, and wisdom to think this way. Granted, Socrates was probably not smarting off to his teacher -- it was more like politicians and poets, really -- however it is, like the aforementioned philosophic jewel, encouraging to me, to know that I'm not a complete idiot, and that I am capable of some rather deep thoughts and understanding.
I just wish I could discover them on purpose, as did Socrates.
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