I have a secret....
Actually, it's not a secret. Pretty much everyone who knows me knows that I don't like animals.
Now, before you go thinking bad thoughts about me, I don't hate animals. There is a distinction between hating and not liking. I do not like animals. I don't like being around them, I don't like touching them, I don't like smelling them. I wish them no harm, and could never intentionally harm them, and I recognize that they are a great benefit to the earth and to people around the world, including me in an indirect way, but as long as I don't have to directly deal with them, it's better that way. If an animal is in need and I am the only one around to help it, then I will, and I will do my best to find someone else who can do a better job and give it the care it needs as soon as possible. I won't just leave it alone to die. And if an animal is harmed or is sick or in serious trouble, it genuinely saddens me. You can compare it to someone I don't really get along with, they're important, and alive, and have value, and I don't wish them harm, but I may not want to spend time with them...ever. Now that you understand that, feel free to think negatively about me. :)
Over the past year - a little less than a year, really - my family has acquired three pets: one cat and two dogs. Before these, we have not had a single pet since I was 3 years old. And I have been perfectly happy about that. But these guys all figuratively fell into our laps. And we live in a place now that will accommodate them, and I have a little brother who happens to adore animals, so my mother agreed to keep each one when they came along.
None of them actually live in the house, and for that I am thankful. I'm not the only one who doesn't want animals in the house. My mom, although she's fine having them around, doesn't want them in the house either. The cat comes in sometimes, but she's only allowed in part of the house, not the whole thing. And except for a brief period of time today, the dogs have stayed outside. I hope they don't come in again.
I got to thinking today (for about the hundredth time) about how none of them would be here if I was the one making the decisions, which then naturally led to me think about the future, when I have my own place to live, and my own children, and I will actually be the one making the decisions. And as awful as some people may think it is, I'm pretty sure my kids will not ever have pets. Until they are grown and no longer living with me, that is. I say this because, if my kids have pets, then I will inevitably be ultimately responsible for their care. And I can't deal with that. With the ones at my house now, there are four other people around, three of them being adults, that are perfectly willing and perfectly capable of taking care of them, and the responsibility of doing anything with them has only fallen on me a couple of times so far. That would be a different story if I was the mom with a bunch of little kids.
So call me a bad mother if you will, but that won't make me change my mind. And notice that I didn't say "never." Saying "never" can get you into trouble. It's possible that there may be some extraordinary circumstances in which my kids may have pets while they are still living at home, but the chances are very slim. That is still off in the distant future, so we'll see.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
There's no place like home.
I just realized something today. I don't know why the revelation came at this particular time, because this has been the case for a while, but it just hit me all of a sudden. What, you ask? This: the idea of moving doesn't bother me anymore.
If you know anything much about my history, you probably know that I've moved a lot. A lot is an understatement. Well, for some people it may not be an understatement, but for many of the people I know it is. Early on, every time we moved was a devastating thing for me. I could think of few things that were worse than moving. I had to put all of my things in a box and rearrange them at a new place, and had to get used to this new place that I was living, and go to a new school, and meet new people, try to make new friends, say goodbye to the people I did know and would probably never see again, and it was just awful for me. We're talking about the girl who threw up when she started Kindergarten, who had to be bribed to just stand in front of the people at church for approximately a minute at about the age of 5(not say anything, not do anything, just stand there with everyone staring at me). New places, new people, new experiences, none of them were easy adjustments.
But somewhere along the way, I learned to adapt. I had to. I would have had a nervous breakdown if I hadn't of. Well, I actually have had a nervous breakdown or two (or three or four), starting with when I threw up in Kindergarten, but I would have eventually gone past the point of recovery and I would have had to have been committed to a mental institution, where I would shrink away from anyone who passed by and murmur to myself all the time. (That's obviously an exaggeration, but in reality, it's not much of an exaggeration.) Praise be to God that that didn't happen.
Now, this doesn't mean that I love moving, or that I'm looking to move anytime soon. It just means that the idea doesn't make me want to crawl into a corner and assume the fetal position. And that's a big step. If someone walked in right now and told me that I had to move, I wouldn't want to, to be sure, but I'd say, "Okay," and get the process started and look forward to what the future holds.
What got me started thinking about all this was my friend Andrew. He posted a blog today announcing that he, his wife, and their daughter are moving to Iowa. That's a good long way from here. He has been offered a position as the Director of Worship at a church over there. And I got started thinking about what it might be like if I was moving to Iowa or somewhere far away, and I realized that the idea didn't cause me any distress. Who'd 'a thunk it? By the way, you can check Andrew out in various places on the Internet: http://andrewadamsonline.com/ & http://www.myspace.com/andrewadamsmusic . He has a song up that you can listen to, should you choose to. This coming Sunday, I'm actually going to get the chance to sing with him one more time before he heads out, and I'm looking forward to it.
There's another occurrence that took place today that actually relates to this. My youngest brother started talking today about how he doesn't feel at home here at the house we currently live in. I've been there before. And I told him that I just had to learn a long time ago to feel at home no matter where I was, and no matter what the circumstances were. My family has always been together, and that is the most important thing, the thing that really makes home, home. I think that's related to the fact that moving is not such a big deal anymore, I've learned to be comfortable with whatever the circumstances are. Home is where I am right now, and if that were to change tomorrow, the new place I would go to would be home. And that extends beyond just the place I make my dwelling. I've also learned to be at home when I go visit other people. I used to feel so out of place at other people's houses, which made it really hard for me to enjoy people's company. But it's rare now that I ever go someplace and don't feel at home.
As I'm sure you can tell, home, finding home, has been something I struggled with for a long time. It was depressing. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, and if I couldn't feel like I belonged at the place where I lived, then where and how in the world was I going to find a place to belong. A lot of things in my life have helped me deal with that and have brought me to the place that I am today, but one of the things that sticks out the most is the song "Home" by downhere.
At one point, I claimed without hesitation that this was my favorite downhere song. I'm not so quick to say that now, but it's still one of my favorites. For the longest time, I couldn't listen to it without crying, because the message hit so close to home (pun not intended, but appreciated nonetheless). I could go through the song line by line and tell you what each means to me, but I'll just generalize the main point, which is that us Christians have a greater home to look forward to than anything we can find here on the earth. And to think about that was a huge comfort for me, and I had to remind myself that continually, because I kept getting bogged down in finding perfection here. And it was only when I stopped looking for that perfection here, that I was able to accept what I had, and be grateful for it, and be comfortable in it.
If you would like to read them, here are the lyrics:
We want to focus on what we can't see
But this scene is just a fading beauty
In this life, when sorrow steals our joy
We want to walk beyond our circumstances
But our feet run to our own advances
Would you be our way and lead your people on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home
Pull apart our good intentions
Break the walls of these dimensions
Paint a picture of our eternity
And we will sing the songs of Heaven
Be the chorus you have chosen
We need Your grace
To echo the saints and journey on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
And as the angels sing Your praises
Let us not forget Your graces
Which far outweigh a world of dreams
Would you remind us that we have not reached home
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not reached home)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
If you know anything much about my history, you probably know that I've moved a lot. A lot is an understatement. Well, for some people it may not be an understatement, but for many of the people I know it is. Early on, every time we moved was a devastating thing for me. I could think of few things that were worse than moving. I had to put all of my things in a box and rearrange them at a new place, and had to get used to this new place that I was living, and go to a new school, and meet new people, try to make new friends, say goodbye to the people I did know and would probably never see again, and it was just awful for me. We're talking about the girl who threw up when she started Kindergarten, who had to be bribed to just stand in front of the people at church for approximately a minute at about the age of 5(not say anything, not do anything, just stand there with everyone staring at me). New places, new people, new experiences, none of them were easy adjustments.
But somewhere along the way, I learned to adapt. I had to. I would have had a nervous breakdown if I hadn't of. Well, I actually have had a nervous breakdown or two (or three or four), starting with when I threw up in Kindergarten, but I would have eventually gone past the point of recovery and I would have had to have been committed to a mental institution, where I would shrink away from anyone who passed by and murmur to myself all the time. (That's obviously an exaggeration, but in reality, it's not much of an exaggeration.) Praise be to God that that didn't happen.
Now, this doesn't mean that I love moving, or that I'm looking to move anytime soon. It just means that the idea doesn't make me want to crawl into a corner and assume the fetal position. And that's a big step. If someone walked in right now and told me that I had to move, I wouldn't want to, to be sure, but I'd say, "Okay," and get the process started and look forward to what the future holds.
What got me started thinking about all this was my friend Andrew. He posted a blog today announcing that he, his wife, and their daughter are moving to Iowa. That's a good long way from here. He has been offered a position as the Director of Worship at a church over there. And I got started thinking about what it might be like if I was moving to Iowa or somewhere far away, and I realized that the idea didn't cause me any distress. Who'd 'a thunk it? By the way, you can check Andrew out in various places on the Internet: http://andrewadamsonline.com/ & http://www.myspace.com/andrewadamsmusic . He has a song up that you can listen to, should you choose to. This coming Sunday, I'm actually going to get the chance to sing with him one more time before he heads out, and I'm looking forward to it.
There's another occurrence that took place today that actually relates to this. My youngest brother started talking today about how he doesn't feel at home here at the house we currently live in. I've been there before. And I told him that I just had to learn a long time ago to feel at home no matter where I was, and no matter what the circumstances were. My family has always been together, and that is the most important thing, the thing that really makes home, home. I think that's related to the fact that moving is not such a big deal anymore, I've learned to be comfortable with whatever the circumstances are. Home is where I am right now, and if that were to change tomorrow, the new place I would go to would be home. And that extends beyond just the place I make my dwelling. I've also learned to be at home when I go visit other people. I used to feel so out of place at other people's houses, which made it really hard for me to enjoy people's company. But it's rare now that I ever go someplace and don't feel at home.
As I'm sure you can tell, home, finding home, has been something I struggled with for a long time. It was depressing. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, and if I couldn't feel like I belonged at the place where I lived, then where and how in the world was I going to find a place to belong. A lot of things in my life have helped me deal with that and have brought me to the place that I am today, but one of the things that sticks out the most is the song "Home" by downhere.
At one point, I claimed without hesitation that this was my favorite downhere song. I'm not so quick to say that now, but it's still one of my favorites. For the longest time, I couldn't listen to it without crying, because the message hit so close to home (pun not intended, but appreciated nonetheless). I could go through the song line by line and tell you what each means to me, but I'll just generalize the main point, which is that us Christians have a greater home to look forward to than anything we can find here on the earth. And to think about that was a huge comfort for me, and I had to remind myself that continually, because I kept getting bogged down in finding perfection here. And it was only when I stopped looking for that perfection here, that I was able to accept what I had, and be grateful for it, and be comfortable in it.
If you would like to read them, here are the lyrics:
We want to focus on what we can't see
But this scene is just a fading beauty
In this life, when sorrow steals our joy
We want to walk beyond our circumstances
But our feet run to our own advances
Would you be our way and lead your people on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home
Pull apart our good intentions
Break the walls of these dimensions
Paint a picture of our eternity
And we will sing the songs of Heaven
Be the chorus you have chosen
We need Your grace
To echo the saints and journey on
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
And as the angels sing Your praises
Let us not forget Your graces
Which far outweigh a world of dreams
Would you remind us that we have not reached home
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Remind us that we have not reached home (we have not reached home)
Oh, Remind us that we have not reached home
Friday, May 8, 2009
Creature of the night
I've been getting up by at least 7 AM most days for.....many months. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience, because I like the morning. Birds sing, the world feels fresh and new, and the whole day is ahead of me. I'm too much of an optimistic, "the world is my playground" type of person to not like the morning. But I am not a morning person.
I was reminded of that today. Having no immediate responsibilities to get me out of bed, I didn't get up until 10:30. And I didn't even really want to get up then, but I was tired of laying in bed. I have a need to be busy, even if my busyness isn't accomplishing anything important, but I do prefer to accomplish something important. So when I got up I started looking for something to do, and there were plenty of things to be found. The only problem was I didn't feel like doing anything. At all.
It was kinda weird at first, because I've been jumping up and attacking every day for a good long while. I can be a convincing morning person. So good that I apparently convinced myself. Over the past several months, if I was ever talking about it with someone, I would still say that I wasn't a morning person, but with getting up early like I did and being so exhausted every day that I rarely stayed up late, they were kinda empty words. There wasn't much conviction behind them.
So I was kinda thrown off for a minute, then I was like, "Wait a second...this is the way I've been most of my life. This is not unusual. What I've been doing over the past year of school is what is unusual." I just lost sight of that somewhere along the way.
So I just decided to not get all wound up about it, and just find something calm and quiet to do that didn't take much effort, and if I ended up being lazy all day, so be it. And that's what I did. Then, by about 5:30, as the afternoon was ending and the evening was coming, I suddenly felt ready to tackle the million and one things that I did not want to do that morning. And it's about 11 PM now and I feel more energized than I did all day. I remember this feeling.
I am such a night owl, much like I am such an introvert. The biggest difference is that I'm good at pretending like I'm a morning person, but I'm not very good at pretending to be extroverted. That requires more acting skills than I currently possess. But as far as where my energy comes from, it comes when I'm alone, particularly at night.
And this getting up early business was starting to wear on me. I did okay during the fall semester, meaning that I didn't threaten to fall asleep in class much. But this most recent semester was a different story. Even though I was sleeping all night, at least 7 hours, usually more, it was very common for me to get to the point that I couldn't hold my eyes open. And that makes me feel so bad. First of all, I miss important information when I'm drifting off to dreamland, and second of all, my professors deserve the basic respect of me staying awake and at least looking like I care what they have to say. (I fear that sentence seems to imply that I don't care what my professors have to say, but I do. I'm just saying, it's much more encouraging for them for their students, if they're not interested, to act like it. It's a big morale booster.) On top of that, I was falling asleep at home in the middle of the afternoon all the time. I did post a blog a while ago talking about some medication I was taking that was knocking me out every day, and once I quit taking that, I stopped falling asleep as much, but it was still common for me to nap. I've never been a napper. I quite dislike naps, truthfully.
So, for my sake, - physically, mentally, emotionally - it's about time for me to have a break from acting like a morning person, and get back to being up with the bats. Even when I don't get much sleep, I do much better that way. I have a feeling that every day this summer is going to be like today, except for Sundays, the days when I'm at church camp, and during the big get-together of downhere fans in July. On those days, I will be happy to get up early.
But for now, it's about 11:30 and I have stuff to do. I'm so happy that my room is cut off from the rest of the house and the stuff I do in middle of the night won't bother anyone else. It's a night owl's dream. :-)
I was reminded of that today. Having no immediate responsibilities to get me out of bed, I didn't get up until 10:30. And I didn't even really want to get up then, but I was tired of laying in bed. I have a need to be busy, even if my busyness isn't accomplishing anything important, but I do prefer to accomplish something important. So when I got up I started looking for something to do, and there were plenty of things to be found. The only problem was I didn't feel like doing anything. At all.
It was kinda weird at first, because I've been jumping up and attacking every day for a good long while. I can be a convincing morning person. So good that I apparently convinced myself. Over the past several months, if I was ever talking about it with someone, I would still say that I wasn't a morning person, but with getting up early like I did and being so exhausted every day that I rarely stayed up late, they were kinda empty words. There wasn't much conviction behind them.
So I was kinda thrown off for a minute, then I was like, "Wait a second...this is the way I've been most of my life. This is not unusual. What I've been doing over the past year of school is what is unusual." I just lost sight of that somewhere along the way.
So I just decided to not get all wound up about it, and just find something calm and quiet to do that didn't take much effort, and if I ended up being lazy all day, so be it. And that's what I did. Then, by about 5:30, as the afternoon was ending and the evening was coming, I suddenly felt ready to tackle the million and one things that I did not want to do that morning. And it's about 11 PM now and I feel more energized than I did all day. I remember this feeling.
I am such a night owl, much like I am such an introvert. The biggest difference is that I'm good at pretending like I'm a morning person, but I'm not very good at pretending to be extroverted. That requires more acting skills than I currently possess. But as far as where my energy comes from, it comes when I'm alone, particularly at night.
And this getting up early business was starting to wear on me. I did okay during the fall semester, meaning that I didn't threaten to fall asleep in class much. But this most recent semester was a different story. Even though I was sleeping all night, at least 7 hours, usually more, it was very common for me to get to the point that I couldn't hold my eyes open. And that makes me feel so bad. First of all, I miss important information when I'm drifting off to dreamland, and second of all, my professors deserve the basic respect of me staying awake and at least looking like I care what they have to say. (I fear that sentence seems to imply that I don't care what my professors have to say, but I do. I'm just saying, it's much more encouraging for them for their students, if they're not interested, to act like it. It's a big morale booster.) On top of that, I was falling asleep at home in the middle of the afternoon all the time. I did post a blog a while ago talking about some medication I was taking that was knocking me out every day, and once I quit taking that, I stopped falling asleep as much, but it was still common for me to nap. I've never been a napper. I quite dislike naps, truthfully.
So, for my sake, - physically, mentally, emotionally - it's about time for me to have a break from acting like a morning person, and get back to being up with the bats. Even when I don't get much sleep, I do much better that way. I have a feeling that every day this summer is going to be like today, except for Sundays, the days when I'm at church camp, and during the big get-together of downhere fans in July. On those days, I will be happy to get up early.
But for now, it's about 11:30 and I have stuff to do. I'm so happy that my room is cut off from the rest of the house and the stuff I do in middle of the night won't bother anyone else. It's a night owl's dream. :-)
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Emily's Favorite Things #2
I know you've all been waiting with bated breath, and it's finally here!
Emily's Favorite Things #2! Enjoy!
Emily's Favorite Things #2! Enjoy!
My friend Jesus: Part II
Like I promised, here it is, ladies and gents, part two!
Guess what Jesus did this morning....yes, that's right, he came back to life.
I have heard that so many times over the course of my life, that it seems like no big deal, like it's an everyday occurrence that people get up out of their graves and start walking around again. But if that were to happen today, it'd be hard to convince me. I wouldn't believe it was true until I saw it, and when I did see someone I knew to be dead up and walking around and acting like everything's hunky-dory, I'd flip and either think I was dreaming, or that I had inhaled some sort of hallucinogen. People just don't do that.
And that's what makes Jesus different. He wasn't a normal person.
This is the part that always gets me excited. The first part is excitement-worthy, from the standpoint that hey, someone suffered on my behalf. That's pretty amazing. But it's all wrapped up in death and hell, and those are sobering things, not things that make me excited.
But this part is about life. And the way the story is told adds to the excitement. It fosters such a great sense of discovery and wonder. Chapter 24 of Luke starts with these women who were close to Jesus going to the tomb with spices and things to prepare Jesus' body in the traditional Jewish fashion. And the reader finds out that Jesus wasn't there when the women do. You're like, "What? He's gone? Where'd he go?" And then you see the angels right when the women do, and they tell you that he is alive. Wow.
But we still haven't seen Jesus. We're just going on what we've been told. But then, a short while later, Jesus walks up to these two guys. Unlike with the women, the reader is privy to a bit of information before the men are, because they don't know it's Jesus. They don't recognize him. So you're sitting there thinking, "C'mon, guys! It's Jesus! You know him! You're standing there talking to him about himself!!" But before it gets too maddening, they sit down to eat, and it says that Jesus broke bread, and when he did that, they could finally recognize who he was. And to make it even more exciting, just as they recognize him, he vanishes. What in the world? For all you Harry Potter fans, looks like Jesus could Apparate. And then a little while later, as the guys are telling the disciples what all just happened, he uses his Apparation skills again, and pops up right in the middle of them talking. I think Dumbledore probably learned from Jesus.
But the most exciting part, is the point behind him coming back to life. This was the completion of what he set out to do. Like I mentioned in the former post, his death paid the penalty for sin so that we wouldn't have to. Then, in coming back to life, he broke the power of sin and death, by triumphing over it. Therefore, those who choose to accept his sacrifice, can live forever with him. Our bodies will die, because they are a part of the world and the world dies. But upon accepting that sacrifice, our spirits are born in Christ and will never die! Would have been nice for Voldemort if he could have grasped this concept. It's way better than Horcruxes.
All Harry Potter nonsense aside, how cool is that? Way cool, in my opinion. The coolest, even.
It seems kinda weird for me to be talking about this at this particular time. Easter, which is the time we specifically set aside to remember this event, was last month. But it's on my mind at the moment, and what's on my mind usually appears here. And the truth is, Jesus isn't alive only on Easter. So anytime is a good time to talk about his life.
There you have it, my friend Jesus. He is the entire reason I'm here, and the motivation behind the lifestyle that I live. I love telling his story, so even if you've heard it a million times before, I hope you enjoyed it again.
Guess what Jesus did this morning....yes, that's right, he came back to life.
I have heard that so many times over the course of my life, that it seems like no big deal, like it's an everyday occurrence that people get up out of their graves and start walking around again. But if that were to happen today, it'd be hard to convince me. I wouldn't believe it was true until I saw it, and when I did see someone I knew to be dead up and walking around and acting like everything's hunky-dory, I'd flip and either think I was dreaming, or that I had inhaled some sort of hallucinogen. People just don't do that.
And that's what makes Jesus different. He wasn't a normal person.
This is the part that always gets me excited. The first part is excitement-worthy, from the standpoint that hey, someone suffered on my behalf. That's pretty amazing. But it's all wrapped up in death and hell, and those are sobering things, not things that make me excited.
But this part is about life. And the way the story is told adds to the excitement. It fosters such a great sense of discovery and wonder. Chapter 24 of Luke starts with these women who were close to Jesus going to the tomb with spices and things to prepare Jesus' body in the traditional Jewish fashion. And the reader finds out that Jesus wasn't there when the women do. You're like, "What? He's gone? Where'd he go?" And then you see the angels right when the women do, and they tell you that he is alive. Wow.
But we still haven't seen Jesus. We're just going on what we've been told. But then, a short while later, Jesus walks up to these two guys. Unlike with the women, the reader is privy to a bit of information before the men are, because they don't know it's Jesus. They don't recognize him. So you're sitting there thinking, "C'mon, guys! It's Jesus! You know him! You're standing there talking to him about himself!!" But before it gets too maddening, they sit down to eat, and it says that Jesus broke bread, and when he did that, they could finally recognize who he was. And to make it even more exciting, just as they recognize him, he vanishes. What in the world? For all you Harry Potter fans, looks like Jesus could Apparate. And then a little while later, as the guys are telling the disciples what all just happened, he uses his Apparation skills again, and pops up right in the middle of them talking. I think Dumbledore probably learned from Jesus.
But the most exciting part, is the point behind him coming back to life. This was the completion of what he set out to do. Like I mentioned in the former post, his death paid the penalty for sin so that we wouldn't have to. Then, in coming back to life, he broke the power of sin and death, by triumphing over it. Therefore, those who choose to accept his sacrifice, can live forever with him. Our bodies will die, because they are a part of the world and the world dies. But upon accepting that sacrifice, our spirits are born in Christ and will never die! Would have been nice for Voldemort if he could have grasped this concept. It's way better than Horcruxes.
All Harry Potter nonsense aside, how cool is that? Way cool, in my opinion. The coolest, even.
It seems kinda weird for me to be talking about this at this particular time. Easter, which is the time we specifically set aside to remember this event, was last month. But it's on my mind at the moment, and what's on my mind usually appears here. And the truth is, Jesus isn't alive only on Easter. So anytime is a good time to talk about his life.
There you have it, my friend Jesus. He is the entire reason I'm here, and the motivation behind the lifestyle that I live. I love telling his story, so even if you've heard it a million times before, I hope you enjoyed it again.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
My friend Jesus
Jesus died this morning.
Not really. Jesus died a long time ago. And he's alive now. Why would he need to die again? The one time was plenty.
But in my reading this morning, he died. In Luke's account.
When I say what I'm about to say, I'm not trying to be holier-than-thou, or super-spiritual, because I'm not, so please do not take it as such. So, moving on...I read the Bible every morning and every night. It is literally the first thing I do in the morning, before my feet even hit the floor. And it's one of the last things I do at night before I go to sleep. I do the bulk of my reading at night, because I'm less distracted and my brain works better. I read just a little bit in the morning, and the point of that really is just to focus myself first thing...to have a little reminder that hey, God's with me, and hey, I'm living my life for him...or I should be.
Because of that, I don't usually give a lot of in-depth thought to what I read in the morning. Sometimes, to be honest, by the end of the day, I don't even remember what I read that morning. But when Jesus dies, it's a different story. No matter which of the four accounts of Jesus' life I read, when it gets to the part about him dying, I take notice if I wasn't paying attention before, or if I was paying attention before, I take extra special notice. And it's at least in the back of my mind all day, if not right in the forefront.
A lot happened in that moment. A lot that I don't even understand, and probably never will. But what I do understand, is that he died so that you and I wouldn't have to suffer the punishment for our sin. He took the punishment instead. For all of it.
That's why I pay special attention. That's the greatest thing anyone ever has of ever could do for me. And I am humbled every time I think about it.
That's why I live my life the way that I do, striving to follow God. He loved me so much that he suffered so I wouldn't have to. So in return, out of my gratitude and my own love for him, I want to live for him, I want to know him, I want to do things to let other people know how great he is. And then maybe they'll get to know him, too. It's the same way with so many people I know. I know a lot of incredible people and feel blessed to call them my family and friends. I feel so privileged to know them and get to spend time with them, and in return I try to do things for them, because I love them. And I'm always really eager to introduce them to other people I know. So it is with Jesus, only even bigger, because as incredible as all the people I know are, he's more incredible than all of them put together.
And that's why I start every day by reading the Bible, to give myself that reminder. Some days, it seems to be more effective than others. And I pray that today is one of those days.
By the way, this isn't the end of the story. It's just part one. I expect to be reading part two tomorrow morning, so I also expect to have another blog talking about part two tomorrow. Stay tuned, ladies and gents. It just gets better. :)
Not really. Jesus died a long time ago. And he's alive now. Why would he need to die again? The one time was plenty.
But in my reading this morning, he died. In Luke's account.
When I say what I'm about to say, I'm not trying to be holier-than-thou, or super-spiritual, because I'm not, so please do not take it as such. So, moving on...I read the Bible every morning and every night. It is literally the first thing I do in the morning, before my feet even hit the floor. And it's one of the last things I do at night before I go to sleep. I do the bulk of my reading at night, because I'm less distracted and my brain works better. I read just a little bit in the morning, and the point of that really is just to focus myself first thing...to have a little reminder that hey, God's with me, and hey, I'm living my life for him...or I should be.
Because of that, I don't usually give a lot of in-depth thought to what I read in the morning. Sometimes, to be honest, by the end of the day, I don't even remember what I read that morning. But when Jesus dies, it's a different story. No matter which of the four accounts of Jesus' life I read, when it gets to the part about him dying, I take notice if I wasn't paying attention before, or if I was paying attention before, I take extra special notice. And it's at least in the back of my mind all day, if not right in the forefront.
A lot happened in that moment. A lot that I don't even understand, and probably never will. But what I do understand, is that he died so that you and I wouldn't have to suffer the punishment for our sin. He took the punishment instead. For all of it.
That's why I pay special attention. That's the greatest thing anyone ever has of ever could do for me. And I am humbled every time I think about it.
That's why I live my life the way that I do, striving to follow God. He loved me so much that he suffered so I wouldn't have to. So in return, out of my gratitude and my own love for him, I want to live for him, I want to know him, I want to do things to let other people know how great he is. And then maybe they'll get to know him, too. It's the same way with so many people I know. I know a lot of incredible people and feel blessed to call them my family and friends. I feel so privileged to know them and get to spend time with them, and in return I try to do things for them, because I love them. And I'm always really eager to introduce them to other people I know. So it is with Jesus, only even bigger, because as incredible as all the people I know are, he's more incredible than all of them put together.
And that's why I start every day by reading the Bible, to give myself that reminder. Some days, it seems to be more effective than others. And I pray that today is one of those days.
By the way, this isn't the end of the story. It's just part one. I expect to be reading part two tomorrow morning, so I also expect to have another blog talking about part two tomorrow. Stay tuned, ladies and gents. It just gets better. :)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Feelings...nothing more than feelings
I feel the need to blog, but I don't really know what to say...
I feel all I can say is how good I feel, and what's interesting about that? While I said recently that I don't primarily blog for people to read, I do give it some consideration and I don't really think a post that resembles something like, "Yay! Yay! Yay!, " etc., all the way down the page would be interesting reading material....
Emotions are funny things.
I tend to stay in the middle and lean over to the happy, postive side most of the time. Lately I've been leaning further over to the happy, positive side than on average: school is almost out for the summer; it's spring, and summer's almost here, which in my life always means lots of fun!; I've spent lots of time lately with really great people that I love dearly; I went to Indiana yesterday to see a friend be ordained, and the service was beautiful; all those visits with people have meant road trips!; and I have the most amazing friends and family ever! Oh, and as cheesy and ridiculous as it may sound, God is good, and Jesus loves me. I don't know why it sounds ridiculous to say that, because it's not ridiculous at all, and it's the greatest reason I will ever have to be happy. And I've been more aware of it lately than I am most of the time.
But...my logical/philosophical/analytical side is trying to ruin my fun. Just as soon as I start feeling giddy, it pulls me back and says, "Hold on a minute...are you getting a little too carried away with your emotions? Because we can't have that. Letting emotions overtake you is not a good thing." So I stop and examine myself. And I ask another question..."Are emotions really as bad as I, and so many others, make them out to be?"
I believe that emotions have a place. We feel for a reason. They can help us know when something is wrong. They can motivate us to do something about what's wrong, if we need to do something. When we feel great sadness, they can help us appreciate the good, happy things even more. More than that, they make life interesting! We'd be really, really, dull if we didn't feel anything. Life would have no point, really.
But they can't control us. Because then we do stupid things. Like yell at people. Say things we don't mean. Get depressed when things really aren't that bad. Become drama queens. (Yes, guys, you, too.) (Wow, that sentence just had a comma between every word...) It's not pretty. (Emotions that reign supreme, that is, not my comma filled sentence.)
And that's where my cautionary question comes from. That ugliness does not need to happen. But I also need to be careful not to suppress my emotions completely. It's that part of me that asked that question that keeps me in the middle so much of the time, emotionally speaking, that is. I rarely ever feel anything without examining it and picking it apart first. It's always like, what's going on here, and how should I feel, and what should I do with those feelings, to the point that they've all dissipated by the time I'm done looking at them. Which is often a good thing. I think it's what lies beneath many of my good attributes, like my patience, and my lack of anger, my ability to stay calm in stressful situations. But like I mentioned before, I fear that it makes me pretty dull sometimes. It's hard to find a balance.
With all that in mind, I think my happiness is okay right now. I can let myself smile and laugh, and say, "Yay! Yay! Yay!" until I run out of breath. We need more happy things in the world. But I just need to make sure that I check myself every once in a while, to make sure my head isn't in the clouds.
So....Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! :-):-) :-) :-) :-) :-) *insert sound of me laughing here*
I feel all I can say is how good I feel, and what's interesting about that? While I said recently that I don't primarily blog for people to read, I do give it some consideration and I don't really think a post that resembles something like, "Yay! Yay! Yay!, " etc., all the way down the page would be interesting reading material....
Emotions are funny things.
I tend to stay in the middle and lean over to the happy, postive side most of the time. Lately I've been leaning further over to the happy, positive side than on average: school is almost out for the summer; it's spring, and summer's almost here, which in my life always means lots of fun!; I've spent lots of time lately with really great people that I love dearly; I went to Indiana yesterday to see a friend be ordained, and the service was beautiful; all those visits with people have meant road trips!; and I have the most amazing friends and family ever! Oh, and as cheesy and ridiculous as it may sound, God is good, and Jesus loves me. I don't know why it sounds ridiculous to say that, because it's not ridiculous at all, and it's the greatest reason I will ever have to be happy. And I've been more aware of it lately than I am most of the time.
But...my logical/philosophical/analytical side is trying to ruin my fun. Just as soon as I start feeling giddy, it pulls me back and says, "Hold on a minute...are you getting a little too carried away with your emotions? Because we can't have that. Letting emotions overtake you is not a good thing." So I stop and examine myself. And I ask another question..."Are emotions really as bad as I, and so many others, make them out to be?"
I believe that emotions have a place. We feel for a reason. They can help us know when something is wrong. They can motivate us to do something about what's wrong, if we need to do something. When we feel great sadness, they can help us appreciate the good, happy things even more. More than that, they make life interesting! We'd be really, really, dull if we didn't feel anything. Life would have no point, really.
But they can't control us. Because then we do stupid things. Like yell at people. Say things we don't mean. Get depressed when things really aren't that bad. Become drama queens. (Yes, guys, you, too.) (Wow, that sentence just had a comma between every word...) It's not pretty. (Emotions that reign supreme, that is, not my comma filled sentence.)
And that's where my cautionary question comes from. That ugliness does not need to happen. But I also need to be careful not to suppress my emotions completely. It's that part of me that asked that question that keeps me in the middle so much of the time, emotionally speaking, that is. I rarely ever feel anything without examining it and picking it apart first. It's always like, what's going on here, and how should I feel, and what should I do with those feelings, to the point that they've all dissipated by the time I'm done looking at them. Which is often a good thing. I think it's what lies beneath many of my good attributes, like my patience, and my lack of anger, my ability to stay calm in stressful situations. But like I mentioned before, I fear that it makes me pretty dull sometimes. It's hard to find a balance.
With all that in mind, I think my happiness is okay right now. I can let myself smile and laugh, and say, "Yay! Yay! Yay!" until I run out of breath. We need more happy things in the world. But I just need to make sure that I check myself every once in a while, to make sure my head isn't in the clouds.
So....Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! :-):-) :-) :-) :-) :-) *insert sound of me laughing here*
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