Unbounded Love

Christ loved, went the distance (in the fullest sense of the phrase possible), regardless of reciprocation. Crap... I guess that means we're called to the same level of sacrificial love. We're screwed...

What does that look like? I, personally, I am hesitant to make any sort of gesture if I feel it won't be reciprocated, especially when the risks and associated emotions are high. But if I am to imitate Christ, I am required to go out on a limb in sacrificial love, even for those I hate. Love my enemies, even when I know they will still hate me. No reservations. I have a hard enough time loving my friends like that, let alone those that irk me.

What I need to do is to keep sacrifice, unbounded love, in the forefront of my mind. Embrace the concept that I am only a peripheral character in somebody else's story. This is my calling. Not on my own strength. Heck no. I suck at this. Denying self and loving others is only something I can do with a divine intervention.

A Change

Finals are right around the corner. The school year is drawing to a close. Life moves on... And I'm ready for a change of scenery. I don't know what it is, but I'm just ready for something different. Germany won't come at a better time. Three weeks away from most of the people I know best.

Don't get me wrong, I love those people a ton. But for some reason, I'm just in this state of mind where even the smallest idiosyncrasies get on my nerves for no reason at all. And I'm hoping that a change of pace will help me to adjust, whatever that looks like.

Last year, at about the same time, I went to Mexico, and it was one of the most formative experiences of my life. It shook up my thinking quite a bit. But I also became cynical about... well, about a lot of stuff. That cynicism faded in and out, but after the wear and tear of the year, it has come back in full force. And I'm hoping Germany will reverse that effect to some extent; I want Germany to be another formative experience.

I guess what I'm saying is that I need a change. A change before I come back to weddings, work, and [insert alliterating "w" word here]. And I just hope Germany will do that. My only worry is the effects of such a change. I have this (seemingly unfounded) worry that I'll come back a person my friends don't fully recognize. And I'm not sure if I'd be okay with that. Oh well, we'll just have to see.

P.S. If you want to get a look at the way my 15-year-old mind worked, or are simply looking for some cheap amusement, check this out: http://georgian-von-strangleheimer.xanga.com/

I Just Want a Brain

There's such a rift in college between the different realms of education. The Math majors scoff at the Philosophy majors, saying "You don't know anything." The Philosophy majors chuckle and reply, "You can't know anything."

Seriously, though, there's such a disconnect between thinking concretely and thinking abstractly in college that it's difficult to get a well-rounded education, if that's what you're looking for. It's always business majors vs. humanities majors. Math majors vs. linguistics majors. Not necessarily that there is tension, conflict, or animosity between the two, but I feel that different majors and departments have a sense of superiority over the others.

But that drives me nuts, because I have an obsession with balance. Not only that, but I sincerely enjoy both ends of the spectrum. I want to read literature and dig into philosophy, while at the same time computing depreciation and learning business strategies. But I feel that I can't have the kind of balance I want.

I want math, and I want art. I want to reach in both directions and pluck knowledge from both trees. But it seems that they're planted so far apart, that I can't get one without the other. I can only have one cake. And I don't like that.

And my preoccupation with balance extends out of the realm of education, too. In personality tests, I don't enjoy being on either of the poles--I want something in the middle (in the Enneagram, I'm either a 5 or a 2). I recently took a test that determined whether you make decisions intuitively or logically, and I got the same score for both.

In arguments, I generally end up in the middle. "Why can't it be both?" I ask. At the very least, I want objectivity. Take the Rob Bell controversy. When I talk to and regard those jumping to condemn him (though even they aren't sure what that means), I tend to say, "Slow down, now. Don't be so quick to jump on him. Think it through." But when I talk to people that instantly side with Rob Bell, I say, "You slow down, too. Don't align yourself so quickly. Watch that bias of yours and look at the facts."

Even in video games, it rears its ugly head. To choose between fast and strong, or between long-range and short-range is always a problem. I want both.

All that to say I want balance. I want both. I don't like the idea of being either left-brained or right-brained. I just want a brain.

Confessions

I'm sorry.

I'm a narcissist. I'm sorry.
I'm insincere. I'm sorry.
I use people. I'm sorry.
I live a life full of hate. I'm sorry.
I despise people over petty things. I'm sorry.
I'm arrogant. I'm sorry.
I'm avaricious. I'm sorry.
I say and do things to make myself feel superior. I'm sorry.
I spew venom from my mouth. I'm sorry.
I ignore your needs. I'm sorry.
I think I know what's best for everyone. I'm sorry.
I'm prideful. I'm sorry.
I'm self-righteous. I'm sorry.
I take my blessings for granted. I'm sorry.
I don't act like I love God. I'm sorry.
I act as if God doesn't exist. I'm sorry.
I walk on the other side of the road. I'm sorry.
I'm very proud of myself for writing this. I'm sorry.

I'm trying.

I will know that you are more important than me. I'm trying.
I will say what I mean. I'm trying.
I will be sacrificial. I'm trying.
I will return your love and love you for who you are. I'm trying.
I will realize the little things are stupid. I'm trying.
I will know I'm not that big a deal. I'm trying.
I will give freely. I'm trying.
I will allow myself to be inferior to you, because I am inferior to you. I'm trying.
I will speak soothing words. I'm trying.
I will listen to and see what you need. I'm trying.
I will understand that I don't define your needs. I'm trying.
I will count it all as loss. I'm trying.
I will see and live true righteousness. I'm trying.
I will count my blessings. I'm trying.
I will show that I love God. I'm trying.
I will believe that God exists. I'm trying.
I will take you to the inn at my expense. I'm trying.
I will look at this and feel shame for my filth. I'm trying.

He can.

Though I try, I will fail. But He can succeed for me, has succeeded for me.
It's not about me. I am a peripheral character. He can use me as a peripheral character.
I can't do it on my own. He can win for me. He can love others. He can draw me to Himself.

He can.

Contendedness

"I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Philippians 4:11,12

Now, Paul's talking about material needs here. But I feel that in America, we deal a little less than he did in material need. The concept of need and plenty materially isn't always as strong for us. However, emotional and locational need and plenty is something I believe we struggle with often. I have a hard time being truly content with where I am at this point in time. I constantly strive for that "when...", the thought that there is a point where I'll be where I need to be. Until then, I'm just on my way there. It's tough to be content.

I feel a lot of this has to do with a misunderstanding of contentedness. It's not being just okay with where you are. That's more like complacency. True contentedness is feeling sincerely joyful about the point where you are in this moment, joyful for the present, while looking to the future with similar joy and anticipation.

There are so many pressures that we feel. The pressure to achieve, to succeed, to graduate, to get married, to find God's calling for your life. Especially that last one. There's so much language about finding God's place for you in the world. And this is good. But I believe it is taken too far. We can't be so concerned about the future that we take our minds out of the present. At the present, what is God's will for you? You should strive to be where you are, and make the most of it. The future will come. It has to.

To be honest, I've felt content for the first time in a long time lately. Don't get me wrong, I haven't felt upset about my situations (well, not most of the time), but I haven't felt that present joy that contentedness brings. It has been mainly complacency. And if not that, I'm looking to the future for my "then." But lately, I've been able to look at my life and say, "This is the way it is. I love it. I wouldn't change it. And I'm excited for what will come." And it has been so freeing.

Not to say I don't plan. I do like to have an idea of what I would like my future to hold, but it's really no big deal. Things work out. But for now I live for today, and tomorrow I'll live for tomorrow. The horizon doesn't distract me as much any more.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is: Look at your life. Are you content with where you are? Does your current situation fill you with joy (contrast with happiness)? If not, just ponder this for a while. I hope you can find peace through this.

Where He Takes Us...

Sometimes, I'd rather be blindfolded when being led by the hand. The fog conceals the future, while the present is muddled, but clear. It would be so much easier to go through life unaware of all the twists and turns the God brings you through. No attachment, no unfulfilled hopes, no empty dreams. Just where you're going and God holding your hand. Instead, we let our hearts run free, holding onto something, though there lies an unseen turn just ahead. Then the turn comes, and what you thought was part of your final destination fades into the fog behind you, forgotten. So you decide to live unattached, without hopes, dreamless. Taking what comes along without putting stock in it. And you avoid pain and separation... for a while.

Then there comes a particularly unexpected twist. So unexpected, in fact, that all evidence points to this, a revelation from God--it's part of your destination, what you never saw coming. So you slowly, hesitantly grab hold of this new thought. At first you reject it. Then you consider it. Then you pursue it, but with caution. Then, you become attached to the point of pain, and something occurs to you--"If my hand gets pulled in the opposite direction, this will hurt." Because what was once felt like a nudge in that direction was nothing more than a casual bump. And you dread that turn, long for that detachment, because the turn would have come so easily, so unhindered had you just walked by, emotionless.

"But would it have been worth it to pass on by?" you wonder. "Had I not felt that nudge, made myself vulnerable, would I be as complete a person as I am now?" And you think, just maybe, even if you go through extreme pain at the turn, that the pain will have been worth it. It was a nudge, and you followed the signal. You were led through it, not past it. And you might never know, but you follow anyway. Led through the fog and the pain, holding onto what you know matters most beyond the shadow of a doubt, trusting that you aren't being led to your downfall. So just hold tighter. Don't let go. Be ready for the turn. But be ready to embrace what lies in your path, despite the pain that might ensue. And we continue on, for we are Followers.

Random Thoughts at 2AM

So, here's stuff:

I was thinking... I feel like we grow out of our knowledge of the purpose of life. If you think about it, kids often have a greater understanding of what's important than adults do. Take joy, for instance. How many adults have you met that seem to have never understood the concept? But kids find joy in even the smallest things. Take a trip to the store. You'll likely find grumpy adults jockeying for position in the checkout aisles, obsessing over what the next day brings, while a 4-year-old smiles in delight as he grabs a dirty penny from the ground, his new treasure. "Foolishness!" we adults would say. It's just a penny, right?
Wrong. Pennies bring children joy. Is that less substantial than when the latest contribution to an adult's 401k or when the Lions win the Super Bowl brings an adult joy? In then end, the "important" things of this life are really rather absurd in the Grand Scheme of things. The only things that last are eternal. So while we work during our wait for eternity, why not get excited over a penny? Jesus thought it made a pretty decent parable. (Sort of)

It's not just joy, though. Kids have an innocence that adults have far since left behind. I once sat through a VBS skit where a hypothetical child was said to be foolish for one of the things he thought. It disturbed me a little, because what was said to be foolishness was really innocence. And there's a large difference. That state of innocence, especially now, quickly disappears. Children are children for shorter amounts of time, and that saddens me.

Children also have an amazing ability to trust. They have yet to learn the harsh way of the world... but I would say their trust sets them apart. True trust is childlike trust. No reserves, no hesitation. Just trusting that Daddy will catch you after Uncle throws. And pure bliss in the middle of it all. I think this is what Jesus had in mind when He said that "No one will enter the Kingdom of Heaven unless he has the faith of a child." A paraphrase, of course. But true, nonetheless.

Lastly is a child's simplicity. They have such a grasp on the little things in life, like finding pennies. Flowers made of construction paper take on their own form of life in the eyes of a child. It is a child's simple nature that often puts a smile on our face and a tear in our eye. The belief that a hug and a smile can turn away all evil is such a beautiful thing, and can do wonders for someone at the edge of losing hope. Ironic, that is often a child that pulls from the cliffs over which we dangle.

All in all, I honestly think children have a better grasp on reality than adults do. We should listen to them sometimes. Because, along with everything else, children have the ability to tell the truth--what adults always think but rarely say. If you want an honest opinion... ask a child.