au-delà

After many late nights in the shower as I was debriefing myself and letting my mind wander with God, I wondered. Why do people think it's so crazy to believe in the Bible, literally. One specific instance, such as the Giant Humans (Goliath and his brothers). When you look at the world..

1. Dogs, to Wolves...
2. Cats, to Cougars/Jaguars/etc...
3. Dik-diks, to Deers...
4. Guinea Pigs to Capybaras...
5. Snakes to Anacondas
6. Dolphins to Whales

and probably tons of others that I'm ignorant about. Is it that far of a stretch that there could've once been Giants, with possibly one brown eye? Often those giant races were commissioned by the Jews to utter destruction... After they killed the entire population they'd burn everything they owned, all of their livestock(sometimes) and bodies. Is it so shocking that 3,500 years later we can't find much hard evidence on Giants? We don't even know what happened at Roanoke, almost 410 years ago!

There are people that even refute the Holocaust, now... only about 70 years later from when it happened...imagine how many people would refute it 3,500 years from now...

Love is a chance we should take

In the midst of a shower, where all my deepest thinking seems to be done, I came upon a revelation. Because of this revelation, I realized why there has definitely been hinderance or hurt in a lot of my relationships. While not innately a sin, it however remains a bit...backwards.

Instead of continually beating around the bush with a teasing behavior, like a dessert shared between 8 females and everyone continually takes a small piece until the end and no one takes the last bite, I shall just say it! I realize as I look back in a retrospective lens, sharing my personal life is relatively easy. Why? 'Cause I don't give a *boop*. Truth is truth, and all will be brought into the light, right? At least that's how my subconscious processes it... However. I have found it more difficult, that my struggle is not in being transparent with how I feel or what's been going on in my life but in being, me.

When I am not me, that is usually because I am uncomfortable with something and probably has a root or stem in the fear of man. Which is unusual for me, in my opinion.., because I am not one to back down from conflict or confrontation. A good storm always precedes a good harvest, right? Anyways. Like a child with people I feel like I don't know or am new to, I slowly test the waters to see if it's safe to let my walls down...more and more until they are gone.

An old lesson that had a deeper layer and meaning. People always want authenticity, demand it, and when it's not good enough they are frustrated or disappointed. That's when it clicked for me. No one wants to lower the walls/gate first to get punched first. No one wants to be the first to step out there. Especially me. But... Lately it has really donned on me the gravity and desperation of my desire for knowing my identity in Christ. And to chase and pursue that has slowly but Shirley given me a sense of freedom.

I hate, yet love, when my experience matches my knowledge. I have heard it before, but I feel more so its truth now. That, you can only truly love people when you know God loves you and you love God. You no longer care for their approval and are free to be you and in that are not bound looking for their respect and you will no longer use them for their affections. It makes me want to put myself out there even more(with discernment of course), and tell all the sissies to bring it, and give me the hardest punch they think they can deliver. (starts at :47.)

What makes me worth anything more than a grilled stuffed burrito is Jesus's death on the cross. It's the ultimate symbol and act of his love. So, what that means to me is knowing all my eggs are in my God's basket, I am free to love on as many people as I can. I love others because God loves me. And it doesn't matter how others respond as long as I am honoring God and loving on them.

God wants us to be the first ones to step out. You never know how broken other people are until you get to know them. And to be able to reach out to them and risk getting punched again and again, is what love is all about. Love came to show us the way.

rebelles

I was born a rebel long before I knew what that word meant.

You and your friends like something? I will be against it!

POKéMON?

I tried it, hated it.

FML.com?

A place where everyone can complain and grumble together and laugh at each other's miseries? That's soOo dumb. Some are funny, I won't deny it, but the concept in general...seriously?

Sports?

Only sport I like is--kidding, there are none that I do, except for world league matches/games.

I think my intense need for rebellion was instilled in me very early on. Part of me wants to take no responsibility and take it to the next level by saying it was because when I was conceived, I had to fight over a million other versions of myself to have the right to live. How is that rebellion? I guess it really isn't...It's just me liking to fight. Well, I showed those motha suckas what was up, and so did you, congratulations!

Anyways... As I continue to look around I notice more and more people rebelling. Our country, was founded on rebelling when we gave Great Britain the Great Finger. We love to stick it to 'the man', and fight the good fight. Stories of one man, turning the tide against tyranny, metaphorically and hopefully never physically, turns us on. That's why super heroes are AWESOME. It's also why people can get away with rebooting a super hero movie franchise less than 5 years old(Hulk, Spiderman) and no one will give a damn.

But when I look around, all I see is rebellion. I will no longer be that lone man standing against tyranny. How can I rebel when everyone rebels with me?! That's not fun. When I first came to church many years ago, I brought my critical Chris attitude into it, as well. I wanted to rebel. And the church made it easy, incredibly easy. Church people were a disappointment, the spiritual authority and doctrines were laughable to me. I felt justified. But as I grew and grow, I saw this often in the church among others that were dissatisfied. This dissatisfaction with the shortcomings of who we thought God called them to be, spawned a cesspool of haters.

Everyone walks around like the Church is a great whore instead of the great bride. I'm sympathetic to non-Christians when they hate on the church even though sometimes they may not really deserve it. But when 'Christians' begin to rip on the church and avoid it like a neglected girlfriend, I feel a new found fury! It makes me feel... rebellious. How do I be a rebel in a world of rebellion? I pondered on this for about an hour, and by hour I probably meant twenty seconds. EASY, I thought.

Logic states, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Well, that means it's time to stop rebelling, brosephus. It's soOo easy to hate on the Church and its short comings and how people have 'let us down'. But it's having the understanding to look at it and understand that we are all part of that 'messed up' church. We are just as messed up as the person we dislike, and hate on. We are in need of that grace just as much as that spiritual noob. And we are no smarter, better than anyone else.

It's having the compassion, to get dirty while helping. It's having the humility to be under spiritual authority. It's having that love for something broken that God loves and pleads with us to love.

It's knowing that we are that bride, that bride that Jesus Christ died for and loves.

cuire

Dad: So, I've noticed you've been helping your mom cook.

George: Yeah, I thought it was about time I started t--

Mom: He's just hungry, that's why he helps. Notice he never helps before 12:30, or 6:30.

George: ... I also thought* I'd make things easier for y--

Mom: And he likes to cut things up...

Dad: oOoh.

George: ...Why do we have to eat so late? T_T

gee tee eff oh

Mom: Let's make a deal.

George: Nope.

Mom: You haven't even heard what I'm going to offer.

George: Nope.

Mom: Anyways. If you don't get a job before next year, I want you to leave Texas. Go to California, Taiwan, Seattle, or Maryland. I don't kur; get a job.

George: Wait, why do you want it before next year?

Mom: No reason...

George: Wait a second, that's when you have to update your insurance. You want me to lower your insurance!

Mom: ...--I got to cook dinner.

How mighty will the Lord be to mightily save...

buckets of suck

I think it was when I broke my first toy did I realize everything in this world was ephemeral and could have no lasting effect. Because of that it occurred to me early on that everything sucks.

I think it was when I tapped on the glass of my Grandpa's clear casket, and asked my mom 'why grandpa was in a box', did I realize everyone in this world was ephemeral and could have no lasting effect. Because of that it occurred to me early on that everyone dies.

I think because of those things I never really developed a sense of pride of anything I made, or who I was, because everything I ever make, will be destroyed, and everything I ever do, will be topped by someone else. And everything I am to be will just wither to the ground and be but a breath.

So I never really understood the idea of confidence, as I grew older...I had an unrealistic scale and measurement of gauging quality, if its lasting effect isn't good enough, it sucks....Why would you be glad you made something that sucks? Why would you be glad, that you are a bucket of suck?

Though probably not a good way to grow up, it instilled into me a Debbie Downer attitude of being objectively critical.

The only thing that ever withstands the test of time are ideas... But even then, since it is humans that receive them, who are everything wicked, there is an error in the ideas especially when we create them as well. We can't control how other people will use our ideas in the future, or how they will interpret them if they are ever written down. This is especially illustrated in objects that were created with intentions of bringing something to humanity.

Like the inventor of television, created it with the intention of showing musicals, ballet, and poetry to all those that could not afford to attend theaters. The inventor of basketball created it in hopes to give young men something to do so that they'd detour from criminal activity, and violence. However basketball players are far from role models, today. The Internet was also hoped to be a way to spread knowledge and education, but it is often used for more lewd purposes. Spray paint cans were intended to...spray paint, rather than get sniffed from a bag for a neutered high.

The effects of the deviation of twisting ideas are most noticeable in the US Constitution. Everyone has construed their own meaning of it for their own immediate benefits. And while it's easy to blame the system of our government, there was once a system that God gave to the Jews that they/we also messed up. The government created from the Mosaic Law given to Moses from God was, too, eventually destroyed by the wickedness of man. So in short, nothing is safe from our total depravity! And everything else will be destroyed or dissipate. Not to be a debbie downer but it has just been something I have noticed.

Take that and Rewind it Back

George: Hey Mom, I just wanted to call and let you know I'm probably not gonna come home tonight or be out really late.
Mom: Okay, thanks for letting me know.
George: I need to take my friend to the airport at like 4am and--
Mom: Just make sure you are doing the right thing.
George: What?
Mom: Think about what you are doing...if it is right.
George: Uhh...what?
Mom: Don't be sleeping around; you might get a disease.
George: What?!--I don't even--Never mind, see you tomorrow.
Mom: Night.

I still don't understand why my mom thinks I am promiscuous or occasionally gay... It used to be funny and still kind of is. But now that it's been about three years of her accusing/gesturing I wonder what kind of a light I am truly being or if I am not being inclusive enough of her in my life.

Anyways. Ever since the fiasco in which she thought I was gay, I would intentionally listen to gangster rap music whenever she was nearby. The ones with lots of guns being shot, reloaded and girls gasping for air and moaning in the background would frequently grace my speakers. Hopefully that would make me seem more masculine, and somehow more straight?

When I was a young boy, girls used to hug me all the time, and I would just nosebleed and passout. So I don't know why she thinks I would be fond of physical touch.