Speaking Out of Silence

The Touch

2010-09-19T22:06:00.000-06:00

I woke up this morning, and immediately I was hit with a thought. The thought was about how terrible a situation it is: we as sinful people and God, perfect and holy. This seems like a terrible nightmare, where everything is backwards and wrong. It seems lop-sided, like the girl who is with a guy that doesn't deserve her. I'll say it again, this is a terrible situation. To have a God who cannot be near sin. Who cannot, WILL not tolerate it or touch it. It is most despairing when all his children want is to be held by him, but he stands afar; not daring to get too close, as to become tainted. What an awful chasm stands between us and God.

We can see at times just how big God is. Why can't he touch us? Without his touch we feel all alone. We could go our entire life without sustenance, but with the loving touch of God we could last for eternity if he would only reach his hand out. Why is the news of Jesus so beautiful, amazing after hearing the story a thousand times?

BECAUSE HE GOES WHERE THE FATHER COULD NOT. He goes where the Father was restricted by his holiness. Jesus gives us the only thing we need: the touch to a leper who has never felt it before. Company to the downtrodden and outcast, who have long since given up on acceptance. But he reaches his hand out to us. He doesn't even wait, he comes to us to hold us. Jesus is impossible, but the Father gave us the impossible to do the impossible. The rest that Jesus offers is like no other: to be held by a creator and to know that he loves us. He leads us where we could not go on our own and to the feet of the Father we fall. Praise the Lord, alleluia.

Newton's Cradle, God's Voice

2010-09-19T21:49:00.000-06:00

I don't know if you've ever had the experiences I've been having, but lately I feel as if God has been persistently trying to get my attention. Or perhaps to say it better, I feel as though God has been trying to reinforce some key ideas to me. Recently I've found in completely different setting the same teaching from the bible being taught, or a specific topic being discussed in separate circles that surround me. At first it seemed to me that I had to change my pattern, seek out another church to avoid such overlap. But today I felt that there was something I wasn't seeing the first time that prompted a second, or third look. When I finally concluded that it wasn't just sheer chance or a lack of variety content I began to feel God pushing towards something, propelling me to something.

The image of Newton's Cradle(the metal spheres on strings that swing back and forth as energy is transferred from one to the next sending the last sphere in an upward arc) has been stuck in my head all day. The spheres in the middle are what God wants me to hear, and I am the spheres on the ends. Once God sends out his message, I am sent flying: considering, praying, acting, and processing what He has for me. But where I've previously felt no attachment, moving on to something else, now I move back toward the same teaching and I collide violently with God. But you know what's funny: even though I slam into God's Word IT DOESN'T MOVE. But I am stopped in my path on the one end, like God is seeking to remove what is useless and unnecessary, and then he propels me once again on the other side. Growing what is good in me, keeping what will bear fruit.

So what has God been saying to me? What has been on my mind? What can I not escape?

- Community: I should have bruises and broken bones from how hard God has been trying to hammer this into my brain and my heart. Community is so much more complex and difficult than I had previously thought, and probably what many people have thought. Maybe this is obvious but it is not present just when we surround ourselves with like-minded Christians. It takes EVERY OUNCE OF ENERGY to thrive in community, to lay everything bear for all to see. To bend farther than you've ever had to, to sacrifice what you once held on so tightly to. Community fails almost instantly when there is any falsehood among any of its members, and that is why so many "communities" are drowning. The saddest part is that we have access to everything we need to experience real, true community. But we don't live by it, we move away from communities for another goal, another pursuit. I know God really wants me to think daily what my community looks like, and how I am strengthening or weakening that community.

- God's Love: I know for certain that God could put this on my heart for every day for the rest of my life and I still would not get it. This SCANDALOUS love, this unknowable love will always evade me in its entirety. But I know that like pastor Greg Boyd says that this love that "requires a supernatural revelation from God" to understand is a love that I must CONTINUALLY ask God to make known to me. Because the second I think I have a grasp on it, it out-does me. The minute I think I have God's packed in a neat little box, the seams of the box burst open. In fact understanding that I don't know it may be closer than I can get by trying to understand God's love. But just because I can't know or understand God's love fully, doesn't mean I can't EXPERIENCE God's love fully. God sent his son Jesus, and his Spirit after, so that we "may have life and have it to the full." So that we can see God for who he is, because we know that if "we have seen the Son, we have seen the Father." Even then our minds fail us. Our heart is what brings us to God. It DOESN'T say believe in your mind that Jesus is Lord, it says "if you confess with you mouth 'Jesus is Lord' and believe in your HEART that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved."

I could go on, and on, and on...but I think I should stop. Err, not stop. I can never stop, even if I wanted to. But I can cease writing tonight

Beautiful,Tangled Mess

2010-07-10T16:52:00.001-06:00

I feel like life right now is a beautiful, tangled mess between me, God and a girl. But it resembles less a horrid knot of christmas lights, and more like two vines weaving together around a massive tree. I see it this way because the vines are growing more tangled together-but each alone, or even just the two together can grow no higher. They need the support, strength, and the direction of the tree to go any further. But in my mind I can't see the end to how far the vines grow. I cannot see whether or not the vines will continue to tangle up in each other or if they will at some point down the road take separate paths up the tree. But I do know that what is forming now is not merely a brief encounter of something amazing but I life-long bond that is forming. Again I cannot say for certain how it will play out. But everything points to forever. Forever together or forever friends, only God knows, but I do believe forever will be in there somewhere. And that is a wonderful feeling.

Bad Timing

2010-05-11T18:34:00.001-06:00

Well here I am again: the victim of bad timing
This is quickly becoming a cruel joke
Oh, you want to leave? Are you sure? How about...now?
Some piece of me thinks this came about the moment I decided to leave
In any case it's messing with me head

When am I going to be there?
When it becomes easy? or when I find someone worth the struggle?
It seems that you never know that before the struggle begins
And the craziest thing: I think I'm more afraid that this could be something amazing
Why in the world would I be afraid of that?
Who hopes for anything less than that?
This isn't exactly good for someone who can't ignore the questions "what if? what might have been?"
Nor is it good for someone who in the past has acted without regard for what it will do to their heart

I also wonder if there will ever be any perfect situation
I could end up waiting my whole life for that to come
But what is the converse of that: changing all your plans for something that is uncertain
-Neither extreme sounds very good, so what is the balance?

I feel dizzy, but I'm not indifferent or indecisive...but I very well may have no clue.

Not Someone Else, Me

2010-04-01T23:16:00.000-06:00

At this time of year I've often reflected upon what You suffered. Sometimes seeking recreations and interpretations in cinema, other times in literature, or even just reading the accounts. But it has always been me looking from an outside perspective, going back thousands of years to those events. But tonight I was there.

It was not your close friend that greeted you with a kiss of betrayal, it was me. I traded You for a trivial sum: enough to warrant the deed, but not nearly enough to stop the hurt.

It was not the Roman guards, drunk enough to carry out the task of tearing your flesh. It was me. I became so drunk on the sins of the world that I did not even realize I was ripping my Lord to pieces.

It was not your confidant and mentee that denied You to save his own skin, that of course was me. Somehow all that You showed me and promised me faded in the wake of accusation and I chose to forget You and every wondrous sign you gave, every truthful word you spoke.

But what sickens me, what destroys me, and what stops me dead in my tracks is this: I see quite clearly that it was not some stranger from a foreign power who tacked you to that tree. IT WAS ME. I took your arm, I remember how you did not resist as I plunged the nail in. The pain from one blow was extreme, but I did not stop until your arm held fast. Surely you will fight to keep the other arm free. It lays there, complying in love. I pour my sins into the second nail, leaving no chance for your escape. Surely I've no more death in me to finish the job. But my sin wells within me anew and I amply pound your feet firmly to the support.

That day I robbed life from the one that gives life. But in that horrible nausea of the image of you I am comforted. The heap I lay in from the aftermath you restore. What was sure to condemn me forever has set me free. Still at times I wonder who you did it all for. Though I may never know why, let me always see, that you did it all for me.

Buried Beneath a Thousand Pictures

2010-01-19T16:55:00.007-07:00

I dug myself a big hole in 2009 with my new camera. I took an outrageous amount of pictures but seem to have been left with a dismal amount of pictures I like, or that are worth showing. But here are some from Christmas break. All shamelessly edited but I like the results. Also I've resolved never to shoot in RAW again. For all the effort, I didn't gain a noticeable advantage.

I must have taken 400 pictures of Rainier over the 7 days I was home. But since that view is from my parents house, it wasn't that hard to do. I was and still am enamored with that mountain.

Love this one. Dirty but I really like the dark frame the clouds above and the trees below give the mountain.

HDR shot, I tried to keep this one as modest as possible.

Another HDR pic, this one just got worse and worse as I tried to get it back to normal but when I gave up on it I realized I liked it. A lot.

Night shot of Butte, MT with the old mine scaffolding lit up in red. I didn't even plan on cars and semi trucks passing put it made for some cool shots.

Finally Butte gave me a reason to stop, even for 10 minutes instead of just driving through

So This is the New Year

2010-01-10T14:17:00.004-07:00

Ok. I'm working on 3 things this year:
reading one book every week
posting every week
using as few words as possible on my posts

For now, here are two thoughts.

"Family Time" - This is the small group my brother attends at Pepperdine. Incredible group. A model for wrestling in prayer and petitioning for each other. An infamous group, frequented by complete strangers but treated as brothers. In an hour's time I felt like I really had missed out on something going to a public(secular school,) yet was encouraged knowing my brother was a part of this group.

I just read Love Beyond Reason by John Ortberg to begin my goal of 52 books in 52 weeks.

I cried at every turn of the page.

I had to put it down several times and collect myself.

I'm quite sure that when I re-read it in the future I won't have the same response. But somehow it was precisely what I needed to hear at this moment. It broke me. Its words compel me. I do wish to pass it on to others, but I can't guarantee it will have the same effect. In any case, I've missed reading and cannot wait to devour much more this year.

Breathe

2009-12-08T16:43:00.002-07:00

I lay silent and a word comes

breathe

I comply and more follows

breathe, because when you breathe, you breathe me

(confused)But all I'm doing is breathing. Still the simple reply insists

breathe

(agitated)But there is so much I need to say, so much I need to do to make things right

breathe

(exasperated)But, but...I can't handle it. It isn't enough just to breathe. How can you ask for so little from me? It isn't a choice to breathe or not to, it isn't up to me. What does this prove?

breathe

Though not complete, merely a word in amongst a multitude of pages, the answer comes.

To breathe is to realize that I am in you. But you cannot breathe me out. You can only stop breathing. You choose to breathe me in but now I am with you. Now you never have to fear. But if you do fear, you only have to breathe to feel the comfort I bring.
I am all you will ever need, so all you need to do is breathe.

Ross Peak and Surroundings

2009-10-05T23:16:00.009-06:00

Heart-broken All Over Again

2009-08-29T09:57:00.002-06:00

One of the most significant events of the summer for me was taking my high school friends to YL camp in Minnesota. It's funny how much I get ahead of myself with expectations. Leading up to camp I was already thinking about my month of summer staff that would follow the week with my own kids. I had no idea what I was in store for.

The assignment team at Castaway very well may have been the best I've ever seen. By best I do not necessarily mean the funniest program, or the most outgoing, magnanimous, people. But I do mean I believe that more time, effort, deep thought and preparation went into the speaker's talks, the cabin time set-up, and Life Signs than any other week I've experienced. I must admit I was not expecting near this much when I met the speaker: a paltry woman with a quiet voice. In my head I thought "how will kids be able to relate to her? Better yet how can she relate to kids?!"
Simply put, she was on top of her game. Every talk had the most concise use of multimedia, illustrating her message so well. It was most impressive when she would use videos and songs present in high school culture that reveal the truth of the fallen world we live in. After showing the music video for "Dead and Gone" with T.I. and Justin Timberlake she led the whole clubroom in singing the chorus from the song a capella. My jaw dropped. I'd heard the song many times and it never occurred to me, I missed it. "Oh, I've been traveling down this road too long//Just trying to find my way back home//The old me is dead and gone, dead and gone" Hearing 400 people singing that refrain is powerful.
More impressive that that was how she let the high schoolers interact in ways I've never seen before. Along with the usual questions following a talk, crayons and paper were provided. This allowed kids not drawn in by discussion to express their thoughts with art, writing significant phrases from the talk or just what they were feeling. It blew my mind to see the artistry, the deep thought that went into these works...from snot-nosed teenagers. I can see why Christ made it clear that the youth of this world are precious in his sight.
But what really hit a nerve, what really broke my heart was when they showed a Post Secret video and following the video provided index cards and pens for anyone who wanted to write an anonymous secret to do so. Somewhere between 150 and 200 kids wrote secrets. The assignment team said they got together after and read all of them and cried for close to an hour over these. At our next leader meeting they had a condensed version to show the leaders and I was just broken down right there and then. I can't speak for other leaders, but when kids don't tell me that they are hurting I often don't think that they are. But my goodness they are hurting. If ever I thought that high schoolers are doing ok, life isn't that bad for them...that illusion is gone. The next day Annie (the speaker) showed that same condensed version for the kids. With tears in her eyes and her voice trembling she said it so tenderly and honest: "I am so sorry. This was never supposed to be this way."
I never want to forget what I saw and felt that week. I need to remember that. But I can't stay in that place feeling helpless for them. I must react and ask God to help use that to spur me on.

Prayer

2009-08-04T23:15:00.002-06:00

7-7-09
I've never felt so helpless as when I saw you sitting there crying. It seemed pointless when I asked you if you were ok. But that helplessness gave way to the only thing I could do: pray. I pray that God can heal you, and he will. I may never know what happened but God is faithful. GOD. IS. FAITHFUL.
I know you are here for a reason, do you? I know there is a reason why you are still here. I hope you find the reasons. God will make you whole again. Then you will never be the same

Is Your Mom as BA as My Mom? uh...no

2009-05-03T00:00:00.005-06:00

Okay if you don't know my mom and maybe even if you do, she is a daredevil. No joke. It is unlikely that you will meet a tougher, push-the-limit, no-guts-no-glory woman...ever. I cannot tell you how many times I've gotten the call like I did this morning from my dad: "Before you say anything, she's okay...but your mom is in the hospital."

When I was little mom fell off of a ladder and got a compound fracture in her wrist. She had to get external pins that were held together with what looked like a robot arm that was sticking out of her skin. Awesome.

A few years ago she knocked herself out cold snowboarding. On the way down she was complaining that the backboard hurt more than her head.

Today was no different. She changed her tire on her mountain bike at home, but forgot to reattach the back brake. They live on a huge hill in Gig Harbor that leads to a major road. Well by the time she realizes she doesn't have her back brake she knows she has to stop before she gets side swiped by a car. So logically she locks up on her front brake, sending her flying(I'm thinking full flip onto her face, because that is what she landed on.) Helmet on but still knocked unconscious. An innocent passerby stops and calls an ambulance, and by the time my dad gets word back at home she is already loaded up and headed to the ER. In the end: out of the hospital by the end of the day with a broken collarbone, cut open upper lip, and a neck brace for 5 days before her next visit with the doctor. Oh yeah she turns 55 next week. Beat that. I doubt you can. Man I love my mom, no fear. Can't wait to see her for graduation.

Halted Progress

2009-03-06T22:20:00.001-07:00

Ok, I'm cheating again. Here is another one of my favorites that I did not publish. I've never been good at stream of consciousness and this really isn't the best example but I just wrote as fast as I could form thoughts and words. I did not edit this at all, I just put it down and was done with it. Obviously it would sound better if I had taken more time on it, but I think that the good parts stand out more among the sloppy and hastily jumbled words. That's my take anyway. Next post will be fresh, promise.

the days are hard
the nights are long
sometimes it hurts to know you are strong
stronger than me
stronger than i
please tell me why
through this i'm worse the wear
sometimes i wish i could tear
my ties from you
i despise my failure
but this is different
nothing to measure against
writing is my defense
somehow you still overpower me
with no shouts of glee
just quiet nullification
what's my motivation?
to work towards what i can't get
to achieve goals that can't be met
I've exhausted myself and my options
i do not wish to continue, lest i become nauseous
i wish i could cross this
gap that we've formed
i don't even want a reward
only to get over the bridge when we get there
even if it means stripping bare
my soul, my heart
i don't know where to start
i thought i was over this
but i keep painting on this canvas
i can't even recognize the painting
too long i've been idle waiting
i know they say i'm supposed to be strong
but i've never liked walking
inside the lines they draw
everything in me points to you
my clothes are stained with your influence
my skin is scarred and marked by your touch
my mind is filled with your words
and i can't clean my clothes
the scars won't heal
nor can i forget what you said
that's it. i'd better go to bed
i know i'm scaring you with this talk
can we just go for a walk and sort this out
no, and i won't pout
but these thoughts are causing doubt
if you hear them i apologize
will i realize ever this may be over never
at least as long as i am here
as are you, should i leave you and this place
will that get rid, will that erase
what i need to forget: your face

The Wind and the Rain

2009-03-06T22:18:00.001-07:00

Another oldie, I really should have posted it years ago. One of my favorite memories. I say this a lot but I really should post what I take the time to write. I have so many drafts it's not even funny. Enjoy.

Sometimes I think back to the time
When we got lost on that old country road
We didn't care where we ended up
We just kept following, never leading
Our destination made me want to stay forever
Watching the rain fall softly on that old windmill
There was something so sweet
When our eyes did meet
As the dying sun finally went away
What we felt I could not say
It was something so strange
But I knew we would never be the same
And what I like the most about that night in Amsterdam
Is the fact that it was just you and I
Whatever happens that night stays the same
No one knows what we experienced that time
No one has seen what we saw
Life may have changed since then but that day will forever remain
That day was you and I
The wind and the rain

Live

2009-02-03T01:02:00.003-07:00

I'm not sure what it is about me, but I don't think I've ever been happy living with anyone. Now there is an natural tendency to jump from "me not being happy living with other people" to "me not liking the people I live with." It may sound like the same thing, but I promise it is different. I love the people I live with. Otherwise I would not live with them. But something inside me just goes steadily awry when I live with others.

Maybe I need more space than these living situations allow. I will admit I have been a part of some living arrangements that have been/are...tight. Not a lot of room. Maybe I am a goldfish.(to understand this reference go see Big Fish) But as I say this I am reminded of the house I lived in last year that was huge, more space than I wanted in fact, and I still felt this way. I would get on edge and the slightest thing fires me up. I remember yelling at my best friend because our laundry got mixed up on accident. Why did it matter? Who cares? I really don't like it because it sort of forces me to spend all my time elsewhere, so I don't feed these feelings and don't get riled up. I know that isn't the most forward way of dealing with it at all, but what I am supposed to say to my roommates: listen I like you, I just don't like living with you? I would have no idea what to say if that was told to me. Just writing about this makes my chest tighten a little, it makes me a little on edge.

I was talking to someone a while ago about this subject. I felt that I would really thrive living alone. There is no one to blame, or become resentful of. No one can annoy you or take up your space. But this person whom with I was sharing the conversation, though I can't remember who, thought this a rash decision at least for the time being. I remember them saying that since my time here in Bozeman is coming to a close, that I should make the most with the friends that I have and live with them, not apart. I see their point, but if all living with my friends did was create tension and separation than I am certainly not making the most of anything. But at the same time I will certainly not move out, that wouldn't be taken well by my roommates. Plus I don't want to move out. I like it here. I just have a difficult time doing it.

I really don't understand myself some of the time. Some things that are so fundamental like getting along with the people you live with seem to be completely absent in me. What happens if someday down the road I decide to live with someone for the rest of my life? Will this come back? Actually I'd rather not think about that, let that worry about itself.

-Bitter heart, bitter face
Broken child, broken vase
The room is cold, and growing dark
The sun is fading from the park
Darker still, there is no light
Don't give up, you've got to fight
Bitter heart, you've got to feel
Little child, you must kneel
In your hands, something begins to glow
Hold it to your chest, never let it go
Warm your soul, warm your night
Little child, it will be alright

Surrender

2009-01-18T15:22:00.001-07:00

I have found that sometimes God speaks truth to you in subtle, gentle ways. Other times he kind of bludgeons you over the head with it. The latter has been happening recently. I got home from 3 weeks of travel, and sort of began thinking about all that had happened: Christmas with my family, visiting friends in Colorado; and something began stirring in my head. God was trying to tell me something. I realized that I got EVERYTHING I wanted for Christmas. That has never happened, nor do I think it should. But I got all the presents I wanted, I got to see all the people I wanted to, and at the end I was left asking why? Slowly but surely the answer came saying, "Matt I have given you EVERY earthly possession you could possibly desire. I have surrounded you with people who love and care about you. I want you to focus on ME. You don't need to give any attention to that other stuff. I am right in front of you. And there isn't any excuse you can claim. You cannot claim school overbearing you, you cannot claim exhaustion or busyness or work. It's time you got back to ME." That was enough for me to stop and acknowledge God as being in control, but it did not stop there. Only a couple of days later the sermon at my church was based on 1 John 3:1 "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!" God didn't give us the bare minimum amount of love that we would need, he lavished us with love.

In the sermon the parable about the prodigal son was also used as an example. This is one of my most fond parables, one I am very familiar with, and yet I had never thought about the story this way: in the story there are two examples of lavish, extravagant living. One is earthly lavishness, and one is Godly lavishness. The younger son receives his inheritance from the father and spares no expense as he squanders that wealth. He is only concerned with the things the world has to offer him. (This is where I start to squirm in my chair.) But he turns back and heads for home, hoping for the minimum amount of forgiveness, of grace. But when he returns his father is waiting for him. Upon his return lavishes him with a robe, the family ring, sandals, and a feast. The father greatly exceeds what the son was expecting. This is God waving his hands in front of my face and saying "Hey! Hello in there! All that crap will get you nowhere, and fast. I'm trying to lavish you with my love, if you will only let me!" I give up, I surrender. I want the love I've been cheating myself of. I want you, Lord.

Vacation? No, this is an adventure. Part 1: Seattle

2009-01-11T12:45:00.006-07:00

I love Christmas and I'll tell you why. Though it may be hard for me to remove the selfish, gimme-gimme part of Christmas from this explanation, I'll do my best. I love Christmas because it is about sacrifice. My family is dispersed across the country, and has even been spread across the world in years past. But there is an understanding that we will do whatever it takes to make it home for each other. I remember my sister coming home from France and having her bag taken by mistake by an Italian man who didn't speak any English. Or in the same year when my dad and other sister had to drive from Seattle to Colorado Springs fighting blizzard conditions the whole way. It is about sacrifice. My dad pulled me aside when everyone was home this past Christmas and said "as far as I am concerned this is Christmas, having everyone home." I think he hit that one right on the head.

It was both incredible to see Seattle under a foot of snow, and terrible when you realize that a large city full of people who don't know how to drive in snow still need to do their Christmas shopping. I was so glad to have two 4-wheel drive vehicles at my disposal. I learned that in my parents new neighborhood maybe a quarter of the residents had 4-wheel drive cars and maybe a tenth had snow shovels. I was glad to do it, but I have never shoveled or dug out cars more than over the 11 day span of being home. What really made things tricky was that our street was in a private neighborhood (don't ask me what that means) on top of a huge hill. The hill was probably 200 feet long and super steep. Anyone without 4-wheel drive was doomed going up or coming down the hill. As a result, most of the neighbors were snowed in. One night I went out and shoveled almost half of the hill, though I didn't feel obliged to do it as much as a spirit of wanting to give my time and energy. Thankfully some neighbors saw that and finished shoveling the next day.

I also love MSU's travel board. I used it my freshman year, and for some reason forgot about it after that. It is such a useful tool. For Thanksgiving I brought 2 guys out to Seattle and between splitting gas and declining gas prices it cost me 10 bucks round trip. 10 dollars! For Christmas break I took Kristy (another complete stranger) after she called me about 4 weeks in advance. I picked her up from the dorms, as it is not unusual for freshman to be without cars. So we start driving. For most of the ride she was texting a girl who lived next door to her. Apparently this other girl was not too thrilled about Kristy traveling with a stranger. Anyway we get to talking and Kristy asks me what I do besides school. That is a fairly simple question for me to answer since I pretty much only do Young Life when I'm not studying. She hadn't heard of Young Life but quickly equated it to Campus Crusade for Christ, and she began spouting off names of people I might know through Cru. Wouldn't you know that she was living across from a good friend of mine, and next to a girl I met through Cru. It turned out that it was one of these girls was the one texting Kristy the whole time. She was very relieved to hear that I wasn't a stranger after all. I hope those girls keep hard after Kristy. She is cool and easygoing; she just needs a little direction. Don't we all.

There is nothing like driving by yourself. After a while you do go a little batty, but it really is a unique outlet. You can sing at the top of your lungs, be messy with snacks, and you never have to worry about compromising in what you are listening to. But as much as I like driving alone, driving with someone is sooo much better. I found out that I am a much safer drive when there is someone else on board. Not that I am a reckless driver, but when the roads were bad on my trip, I was perfectly content to go slow and not push my luck. Maybe I should have company with me more often with I drive in the winter. I've also decided that girls are much more fun to drive with long distances. There is never much of an awkward silence, and even though you may not really be a part of the conversation, you always feel involved. The two guys who rode with me over Thanksgiving said a total of 10 words combined during the trip. It isn't their fault necessarily, it just would have been nice to have had some conversation. I digress, it was wonderful to spend a week and a half at home, but at the end I was ready to hit the road for Colorado. More to follow on that trip.

November Blue

2008-11-12T14:43:00.001-07:00

If I weren't leaving would I catch you dreaming?

If weren't gonna be gone now could I take you home?

If I told you I loved you would it change what you see?

If I was staying, would you stay with me?

If I had money would it all look good?

If I had a job now like a good man should

If I came to you tomorrow and said let's run away

Would you roll like the wind does, baby would you stay?

My heart is dancing to a November tune

I hope that you hear it singing songs about you

I sing songs of sorrow because you're not around

See babe I'm gone tomorrow

Baby follow me down

I don't know why I have to, but this man must move on

I loved my time here, didn't know it till I was gone

November shadow shade November change

November spells sweet memory, the season blue remains

You're yellow hair is like the sunlight

However sweet it shines

Bit by the cold of December I'm warm beside your smile

Oh baby tell me I'm not leaving

You're everything I dream

I'm killing myself thinking I'm fallin like the leaves

I'm killing myself thinking I'm falling like the leaves

- Avett Brothers

Sometimes I want to be Trapped

2008-10-30T23:55:00.002-06:00

Maybe someday this blog will be lighter in content. Maybe my heart will be lighter someday for that matter.

I had this thought. I think that I like the feeling of being trapped. It sounds counterintuitive but I think I am right. The reason for this is that when you are trapped, everything becomes clear. Of course there is the initial realization of being trapped and you try and find a way out with blind haste only to find there is none. Once you calm down from this, the situation greatly improves. You realize that you have nothing to do but face what you are up against. You know you can't quit, you know that there is nowhere to go. It is very simple when you are trapped. There aren't alternatives, no backup plans. This may be a stretch but I think college is something that traps us, and we take great comfort in this trap. As long as you are not completely turned off by college you can expect anywhere from 4 years to 8 or ten years of commitment. By recognizing this, you can block off the next half decade or decade and just put your head to the grindstone. You don't have to look up or take a breath. In that regard, and maybe only that one college is easy. You embrace the walls of academia though they are a sort of prison. Even though you may face the most challenging obstacles in your life, you can't help but take them on. It doesn't mean we attack everything in the best way possible, hardly in fact. But in the end I think we do face them.

Then suddenly your college experience is coming to a close and things that you normally would have addressed and overcome seem less of a priority. After all, if you wait just a little while longer you can run from these problems. That I do not like. Having the option to turn tail and run does not sit well with me. When it comes down to it, I don't believe I would choose the right way out. I feel like 9 times out of 10 I'll choose the easy way. I'm kind of afraid of what is going to happen in the spring. I'm not afraid of what decisions I'll make, I believe they will be right. But will I be content with how I handled everything? Will I act as though I am up against a wall with nothing to do but face the music or am I going to just slink away unnoticed? We shall see.

Gone But Not Forgotten

2008-04-07T00:14:00.001-06:00

I thought about writing this when I was on facebook, so I wrote a note and this is the exact copy of it. Lazy? perhaps but I just wanted to make it available to everyone on here as well.

Today marks the 6th anniversary of my friend Travis McCorkle passing away. It is strange to me, it seems so long ago but at the same time I remember it like it was yesterday. This was an event that was one of the most significant of my high school years, and probably my whole life to date. I remember the funeral so vividly, and why not. It was the first one I've ever been to. A year later I went down by myself to Florence, CO. to see Travis's grave. That sort of broke my heart all over again. His grave stone was adorned with trinkets and trifles from family and friends. One item that I saw that really brought back the memories was Travis's hacky sack, which was lying atop the gravestone. He and I spent a lot of time playing with that thing over the course of two years of working together. It is funny how you can have such a strong association with someone through a toy. I still keep a 2-dollar bill that he gave me one night that made its way into the tips at work. That may seem to be less significant, but when he saw it in the tips he was excited because he collects those. But I asked him if I could have it, and he agreed on the condition that I never use it or give it away. That was one of the last times I ever spoke to Travis. Another strange thought that crossed my mind today was the fact that I am almost as old as Travis was when I met him. I mean in a few years I'll have outlived him, but then again 26 is so young to die. It is amazing to me how someone could leave such an impression on someone who only knew them for a short period of time. Well Travis, today is your day, and you and your family are on my mind. Rest well my friend.

The Passing of Music

2008-03-28T23:42:00.002-06:00

Tonight I attended a concert put on by a family band of sorts. The Werner quartet is 4 kids, one boy and 3 girls ranging from 14 to 18 years old. First of all I was under the impression that the quartet only played cello. But to my surprise, all of the kids were not only exceptional cellists, but incredible pianists, and bass players. They constantly changed clothes, set and instruments. I really can't get over how amazing this really was. Each child played solo pieces, all of these were memorized, completely. Each player had truly unique styles from the others. Andree the youngest, was by far the most fun to watch. She was constantly moving rythmically to the music, she was probably the smoothest piano player of the bunch. Mariel the next oldest was the steady one, the backbone. She wasn't as magnanimous as Andree or as technical as the two oldest, but she was constant, nearly mistake free. She seemed content with being more in the background, but when she soloed she was quite good. Helene the second oldest was probably the most technical of the four. She was astounding. She loved to be at the front, and you sort of could tell. Luc, the oldest, he was the leader. Though not quite as technical as Helene he had that quality that cannot be attained with precision. He had IT. Anyway, it was during the concert that something dawned on me.
The idea of music, at least this kind has a great deal of heritage. What I mean is that it is passed down. I suppose the argument could be made that the family isn't all that impressive because they only attempt to recreate great works in music. But there is something about how they presented it all. They came out many different flashy, fun outfits; they were constantly changing instruments, sets. They not only mastered these pieces, some of them hundreds of years old, they managed to convey the same feeling behind the music all the while adding a modern theme. They made it their own and transformed it. They even made their own arrangements of some of the pieces to better fit their style and influences. The encore was the most fun.
They came out this time with electric cellos, a keyboard, a bass guitar and an electric guitar. Oh and sequined outfits and hair wigs. They played a set of Queen songs to close out the evening. As if what they showcased wasn't impressive enough, they proved that they could also excel at rock and roll. Luc played guitar like he had been playing as long as he had cello, but it was plain to see that he had picked it up recently. All this and for 6 bucks. I am speechless. What a night.

This Wasn't Supposed To End This Way

2008-03-23T22:30:00.005-06:00

Gosh dangit. This is really superb timing. I mean as if my life wasn't complicated, confusing, and careening out of control on its own, then this had to happen. Have you ever been so hung up on a decision that you lose sleep over it? I laid awake for at least 2 hours the other night having a prolonged conniption fit over this. Nothing is never simple, I've found. And it is never as easy as I envision it to be it my mind. I have to leave, there is no doubting that. But on so many levels it seems impossible to. How can I leave on of my best friends behind for the last 2 months that he will be in Montana? What a way to end a year. How can I leave the two friends I have made in this house, knowing that in some capacity I am wounding them for their tolerance and brotherly love? How can I go and ask others to accommodate me, but wishing to keep the details rather vague? Even before all of that, how do I confront my roommate in a loving manner that I am moving out almost immediately because of his brother?
In those terrible hours spent alone in my room with my thoughts all I wanted to do was pack up, and leave in the middle of the night without a trace. It was maddening because in my extremely non-confrontational mind, I knew that would be by far the easiest option. But I also knew it was the only option I couldn't carry out. I knew that the hard road was the only road. Of course the next step in my head involved, as it always does, carrying out these scenarios of what could transpire between me and the people that are involved. They are inevitably negative, and absurd but none the less possible, at least in my mind. When sleep did finally come I was left with the thoughts that only the worst would come of this situation. Already I have been reassured in at least one facet of this situation but by far the hardest has still to come. I know I won't blow this off because it is a hard decision and an awkward one but I just dread beginning this whole process. I know it is soon. I'm not even worried about logistics, though that is usual. It is the relational struggles that are sure to follow.
Also I am unsure how I should deal with this on the level of outsiders. Certainly I want my friends to be aware, but can I disclose this to my high schoolers? I'm not afraid of what they, or their parents may think. I know my actions are correct and pure, but there could be talk about my friends who stay behind. I want to protect them, it is the least I can do. My decision is my own, and it doesn't and shouldn't reflect on them in a negative light. That is the worry I have. In no way is this decision meant to elevate me above anyone. Through all of this I want that to be understood. We are all in different situations and I think there are different ways to approach something like this. No right path, just our own. I know I have to follow mine, no matter how hasty and crazy it may seem. No matter the hurt, no matter the hardships.
I am grateful for one thing. Recently I've been having a hard time(understatement) in knowing for certain where I am supposed to be going, what I am supposed to be doing. But this was undeniable. It was completely clear. Ironically I wished for some sort of ambiguity to clout my judgment because I was afraid of what it meant. Since the outcome was far harder than what I wanted, I wished for the alternative. But I know now that I am so glad there is no mistake. A conversation with a fellow student last week about school suddenly comes to mind. I told him that "most of the time the struggle (in school) is not about how to do something, it is about knowing what to do on the spot." We know how to get to the conclusion, but if we don't know the way to the beginning then we can't ever get to the end.

No Know No Know

2008-03-14T23:38:00.002-06:00

There are some people that we consider to know well and understand. But about this man, no one could say that they understood him. Rather they could say that they understood very well that they did not understand him at all. In this regard they find common ground with him. They know nothing about his circumstances though he has spoken about them countless times. We can reproduce the same details, same emotions from them, but no conclusions can be drawn leaving us for a loss. Is this alright? In a way it is always mysterious and leaves us very intrigued to hear these accounts. But what if anything do we ever gain? Is that the point, to gain something from them? On the one hand it is maddening to no end, living on the wrong side of this one-sided relationship. We receive volumes and anthologies full of nothing, or better nothing we are capable of understanding. I for one am not up to the challenge of wading through the jumbled life of someone else, at least not before sifting through mine own. I want to, but I can't. It doesn't take long but we begin to see this continual leaflet dropping as a front for actual communication, though it is not. Shortly following we(I) become bitter and choose to sever what appears to us as an already cut off friendship. But then it comes, a simple thoughtfulness from the other side. We thought it impossible, like Japanese soldiers singing carols on christmas night on the battlefield. Suddenly we don't know what to think. Then it seems all too likely that the other has no idea of the thoughts that have transpired on our part, and rightly so. So back to the beginning we go again. We must be left to our first conclusion and be satisfied: we understand that we don't understand at all. In some sort of twisted, unfulfilled way there is actually solace in that. I think, therefore I am...I admit to knowing nothing, therefore I know.

If this made sense to anyone, my hat is off to you. I don't quite understand it all myself. It is about everyone and about no one. Better put from the movie The Darjeeling Limited: "all the characters are fictional."

Unconditional Love....Not!

2008-02-05T00:35:00.002-07:00

-For Meesh-

Unconditional love is a bitch. Sorry but it is. In short I think we really overemphasize God's unconditional love for us and underemphasize that fact that God called us to love others unconditionally, or at least to try. But the problem arises in that we live in a give-AND-take world. Not a give-and-give-and-give until someone spits in your face and then give some more world. Over the past year this idea has been slowly seeping into my head from many interactions with numerous people. I have seen more anger, bitterness, hurt, sadness, and surrender from love not reciprocated, and ungratefulness for love shown.

Perhaps we cannot attain and exact unconditional love, we aren't God afterall, but it also says in the bible to aim for perfection. Please, practice unconditional love. Here is a huge kick in the teeth for me: show unconditional love to someone who has conditions to their love. Rachael, yes Alli has a very conditional love. But if that angers you and wears you out and makes you not want to love her at all, then you'll never understand unconditional love. It is not at all "meet me halfway." You had better go the whole way and more. That is what is required. I'll tell you right now what I'm working on:
- If every time I called you to hang out and you ignored me, I would still call.
- If each time I look towards you and you looked away, I'll still be gazing at you.
- If for the rest of my life I have to pour out every ounce of energy to show you that I love you, and don't get as much as an acknowledgment from you, I would spend that energy in an instant.

That is what unconditional love is after. I'll tell you why it is so crucial that we understand and strive to love unconditionally. If we settle for a love that is based on what we get back, then it will never be a genuine love. It will always be changing, waxing and waning whether our love is being recognized, praised and returned or not. Unconditional love is unchanging. It is the same game plan from start to finish. No matter what you do, or DON'T do, I'll love you. Love till it hurts, and then you'll have a tiny tiny taste of what Jesus did. There is no way it was easy for God to love us in the condition we are in, knowing full well that we will rarely give him thanks for it. That is enough to kill a man, and in Jesus it did. God was so broken that he couldn't bare to see this go on that he sent his only son to die, sacrificed his only kin, so that we who do not even give a shit could be with him. If we resort, if we fall, if we give in to loving any less than how Jesus loves us, then we slap him in the face.

This was brought on by a friend whose blog I was reading. She seems utterly defeated in the sense that she pours out love to any and everyone and it never seems to come back. It broke me to read and feel her pain, but at the same time I wanted very badly to tell her to let go. Loving unconditionally is asking for, and guaranteeing pain. There is nothing that can be done about it. Either accept and work through it or ask how you can save yourself from the pain. Sadly stopping the pain means stopping such unbridled, wreckless love. It is a choice and not any easy one to make day after day. But Michelle I can see that you won't stop loving, I just don't want you to be ruined by this either.

Educate Me

2008-01-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to a lecture on campus with my roommate(Erik) and his GF(Brianne). I didn't know anything about the speaker, except that she was going to talk about MLK and something or other about racism. I was pleasantly surprised at what she had to say. The speaker's name was Peggy McIntosh and her focus was on white privilege. Although I would be happy to write on this specific lecture, I had a realization. I love to learn. Of course I could care less about some of the classes I've had to take in college, but knowledge is something I am drawn to.
My freshman and sophomore year I went to several lectures like these. I absolutely love these. Before I ever went I would see fliers on boards around campus and think "what do they have to say that I would possibly want to hear." But eventually I darkened the doorway of one of these talks and I was blown away. The first lecture I went to was a man who was talking about his experiences in World War II. His name is Jack Van der Geest, and if you want to read an incredible story he has a book called "Was God on Vacation?" To give you a short rundown of his story he was sent to a concentration camp for resisting the Nazis. In the camp he was force to work in the experimental medical section of the camp where they experimented on humans. Eventually he decided to escape by hiding in a pile of dead bodies. While in the pile he overpowered and killed a guard and was able to escape. But once he was free he immediately joined the British and fought in the war. Check it out.
Another great talk I got to see was Salmon Rushdie. I don't know if there is a more prolific icon that has been to MSU. He had an amazing stance when it came to free speech. I personally don't think it is ok when KKK membered are allowed to speak hate and have the right to. But Salmon made a point of saying that free speech should be for everyone or no one. The example he used was when he wrote the Satanic Verses that angered the Ayatollah to the point that they put a price on his head and wanted him dead. At some point later the Ayatollah wanted to make a movie about Salmon depicting him as a horrible, cruel, and brutal man. Killing people for pleasure. But the movie had to be shown in England where Rushdie lived and he had to approve of the movie. Any sane person would just say no to a slanderous movie, but Salmon let the movie play. Amazing.
Sorry, again this was longwinded but my point is that there is so much to learn out there. There is so much that we should hear. If only we would take the time to allow people to speak to us.

Are You Kidding Me?

2007-12-07T22:20:00.000-07:00

Well Brianne told my I hadn't blogged in a while, so I went back and looked at my huge folder of drafts and I saw this one. It is old, about a month. It is basically a summary of the semester for me. Nothing special I suppose, but I must say I like this one. I like it because I think I did a decent job of capturing my feelings at the time. I also like it because I've moved far past this and I feel great, for the first time in a long time. So enjoy, if such a feeling is possible from reading someone's blog

hmm another semester come and gone. But this one was quite different from the rest. I suppose they all stand on their own but this one diverges from the classic mold a bit. First I don't think I've ever been so sleep deprived in my life. I hadn't really considered myself a night owl, but this semester seemed like every week I was experiencing way too much life between the hours of 2 am to 4 am. I got really good at napping. Really good. It was very commonplace for me to nap on campus for at least 2 hours at time at least once a week. A couple weeks ago I napped for 3 hours. Is that really napping at that point? Anyway I also think this semester has been the least appealing academic wise. For starters my best grade is going to be in the class that I did the least amount of work for. In fact that trend goes along for all my classes. I'm getting the worst grade in a class that I busted my butt in. WTF? I don't know I haven't been the best student this semester. But that is always a possibility when you are depressed. Oh yeah, I was pretty unhappy for the majority of this semester. I don't know if I can say depressed, but unhappy for sure. It's not like I walked around everywhere with a frowny-face, I had lots of fun, but when all was said and done the resounding feeling inside me was discontent, sadness. Looking back it seems to have stemmed from several things. Mostly it was my desire coupled with the inability to change certain situations around me. It just seems like my core group of friends has fallen apart this semester. It's not because we are all busy and moved away from each other or whatnot. That is bull. Some issues have arose, and for some reason no one wants to fix them, work at them. We all had fun in the summer, but the summer is over now. I don't get it. You have to get over it, be flexible and willing to admit fault. You need to forgive and start over sometimes. I've said this before and I'll say it again: if friendships can be wrecked that easily then they were never real at all, it was a front. But I think that deep down we know that they were and real and we are just being stubborn for no reason. Sometimes, and only for brief moments, I wish I had a Dr. Phil personality that just wanted to be the mediator and get people together and work things out. But another observation I've made about this semester is that things work themselves out on a timeline that we can't see or predict. That is a big reason why I was sad: I couldn't accept that I was unable to just snap my fingers and fix my problems. I got discouraged when my efforts towards redemption and reconciliation were thwarted, seemingly. In turn I stopped making the effort. I remember many times lying in my bed not getting up for the day. I didn't get up because I was tired or needed my sleep, rather I didn't have the will to get up. I was paralyzed by this feeling that there was no reason that could justify my getting up, there was no point. Afterall if I got up I would have to face these hardships that we certainly waiting outside my door.

Great Expectations

2007-11-16T19:47:00.000-07:00

If you have ever read the book Great Expectations, hopefully you can agree with me in that the author brilliantly portrays a potential flaw that many of us carry with us. Great expectations: I've had quite a few, and what I've come to believe is that they are not to be taken lightly. When we expect something the possibility exists that we will be let down. Life rarely goes the way you plan, and there is defeat when you are counting on something and it falls through. Great expectations can also be unfair. To tip the scales in your mind on how a situation should pan out, to hope for words from a friend, that your brother or sister will suddenly want to take an interest in your life. Isn't that just forcing them, willing them to do what you wish for? Even if they concede, was it on their own or because they were nudged toward that decision? However there is merit to these expectations. Without hope life in my experience seems less worth living. Without something to strive and pray for, how can we (I) go on? Yes life does go on, but with a heavy heart. And not to condone the overused, tacky, cliche sayings like "shoot for the moon and you will land among the stars" but we must have higher goals in our lives. Things that might be unreachable to us, yes unattainable situations. But what are we if we cease to strive, to struggle and to achieve? I leave that answer up to you. As per usual the balance, in this case farfetched dreams vs. hopeful persistance, is the issue. But the balance has not been defined, no one can look it up. They must derive it by living and come to their own conclusion. And I hope there is variation to the answer, because how boring is a single answer to a problem that everyone deals with. I myself don't know the answer but I'm going to start looking.

Where Did This Come From?

2007-11-11T16:03:00.001-07:00

So this weekend I reluctantly attended a party being put on by the Undergraduate Chemistry Society. Like a party party, with beer and games and so on. I wanted to go and at least see what the students I've been taking classes with for the last 4 years are like outside the classroom. I literally haven't spent anytime with anyone of my fellow chemistry majors outside the university...sad, kinda. On the whole the chem majors are fairly socially normal, and it's not that they aren't interesting, they are just more dedicated to school than I am, these days I care about Young Life more than school. I really had no idea what I was in store for. So there I was: walking in the door to this party and there are people playing quarters, others just chatting. It looked like your average party. I was quickly ushered in to play quarters, then on to beer pong? Who are these people? They haven't ever so much as hinted towards a social life in class yet here I am. So I learned this night that I'm rather good at beer pong, which not exactly something to be proud of, it basically means you drink a whole lot. Finally my team lost(thank goodness) and I was relieved from drinking for a while. I wandered back into the kitchen/living room area, and tried to get a bearing on the conversations and groups that were occupying this space. At the kitchen table they were playing P & A(presidents and assholes) which quite frankly is too complicated of a game when there is alcohol involved, maybe that is the point. I decided against joining that game and sat a nearby couch. It should have been apparent to me sooner but across the couch were two electric guitars, an acoustic, a stand up bass and a piano. I didn't know whose they were but I was kind of in the mood to play a little guitar, so I picked up one of the electric guitars and turned on the amp that it was plugged into. Now I'm a struggling guitarist, that is a sure statement, but when I strummed the first chord, 4 or 5 heads turned immediately with excited curiosity. I never knew it till that night that, but a handful of my fellow majors are pretty decent musicians; one of them is even a music minor. So one jumped on the acoustic guitar, another began plucking the bass, and a couple huddled around the piano for an accompaniment. And we began learning each other's favorite songs and teaching them for the next several hours. There was this unspoken feeling that I could sense between all of us. It was so exciting to know that we shared a common passion that wasn't chemistry. It was fantastic. One of the girls had to leave early and in a slur of words she blurted out: "we'll play again soon, when I'm not so drunk, ok?" This was crazy, in one night, in one hour I went from a polite classmate relationship with several people to planning jam sessions and wanting, yearning to know more about our collective love for music. I can't sing a play very well together, but as the night was nearing an end, I lost my inhibition and went out on a limb. I played one of my favorite Dispatch songs and those around quickly joined in with me to sing. I think I may have gotten a few applause, but it just felt right. In that moment, at that place, with those people I felt right at home. Yet in reality we are still nearly strangers to each other. But this connection with music was real and it was strong. It was quite strange really how the night progressed. I ended up leaving at about 4 in the morning, completely wiped out, completely satisfied. My time will be short lived with some of these people as some will be graduating in the spring, but I hope there will be more good times with them. I hope this bond we formed can last the short while before we move on. That was so much fun. Man I love music

What a Waste

2007-11-02T14:18:00.000-06:00

Well I sat down to check my blog between my classes today. I read some new posts from friends and then thought about writing a new entry. Just out of curiosity I checked for any posts that I had left unfinished to find that I have 7 drafts waiting. And I probably won't ever post them. Is that defeating the purpose of blogging? I mean this is supposed to be an outlet for me, to express my thoughts and ideas in words. But when I become self-conscious or unsatisfied with what I write, what do I do? When everything I write has the same sad, defeated tone? When the verses I write all sound like a broken record? Even if I decided that it would be worth getting these forgotten posts out in the open I no longer feel the way I did when I wrote them. It seems false, it seems unfair. But still they are there, letting me know they are not going away. I also can't bring myself to erase these pieces that I won't finish or publish, so what is the point anyway? I think to some extent I've been abusing the idea of a blog: it should be for others as much or more as it is for myself. I can keep a private journal for things that I don't wish to divulge. I shouldn't feel the need to post every thought that crosses my mind, only what I feel is pertinent for others to hear. Well it's Friday and I'm not going to let this get me down. After class I'm going to activate the satellite radio that I won from a Halloween costume contest(pictures will follow soon).

What A Nube

2007-10-22T23:50:00.000-06:00

That was embarrassing. Somehow I managed to get halfway through the title of my latest entry and I accidentally hit Ctrl P and posted it. Anyway my original title was
The Mind, Prone To Wander
The mind is a very peculiar thing, don't you think? Take today for example: Mondays are especially busy for me. This one was even more so. I have to juggle class, a meeting, Young Life club, and then school work and research. I gave the talk tonight so most of the day I was trying to prepare for that. But right in the midst of all this chaos, my mind began to go the strangest places. For whatever reason I found myself thinking about funerals. I wasn't thinking about the ceremony so much as the funerals that I attended in high school. I couldn't be sure but 3 funerals in 3 years seems like a lot to me. The first funeral I attended was when I was 16. My parents weren't there, I went with a friend because the funeral was for this guy Travis that we worked with. Needless to say the funeral freaked me out and made me really depressed for a while. It was an open casket, and furthermore to greet the family you had to walk right by it. I was pretty close to losing it. The sight of a body without life in it was too much for me. To see the body without the soul that I had known was a terrible sight to see.
The next funeral was for a friend's dad. Car accident. My buddy Ryan's little brother was learning to drive with the dad and their Jeep rolled. What a tragedy. That really messed up that family. The next year Ryan and I were in the same psychology class which only consisted of 3 projects that were all completely open ended. All 3 of Ryan's projects dealt heavily on the loss of his father. Ryan and I had been playing on sports teams since junior high and so we knew each other decently well. What always surprised me about Ryan was that he would always ask me about things we had talked about months or years prior, wanting genuinely to know how this or that turned out. His memory and the way he showed he cared were amazing. Ryan I just want to say that I'm really proud for how you handled that situation. You had to become the man of the family very quickly and I think you were a great model for you brother and sisters. My heart is with you man.
The last funeral was for another friend's dad. My friend's name was also Ryan, and I know that all funerals are sad, but this one was heartbreaking. Ryan's dad died of a heart attack 1 day before his 44th birthday. Again, Ryan being the oldest instantly became the man of the family, to his 2 younger siblings. I literally have never cried, no sobbed, so much in my entire life. Ryan read this "letter" to his dad at the service and it just broke me down. It still brings tears to my eyes even now writing about it almost 4 years later. Ryan you are very much still on my mind and I can't even come close to knowing what you felt back then, and even now. But one thing is for sure: you were courageous. You stepped up and anyone should be proud to call you a friend. I know that you are still living up to those things you said in that letter to you dad that day.
Even after analyzing my thoughts I can't figure out what made me think of that. It is so strange how things you haven't thought of for so long are at the front of you mind in an instant. What a complicated thing God created when he made us. Well that's all I have on the subject, see you the next time around.

Your Smiling Face

2007-10-12T14:23:00.000-06:00

The days are hard
But my eyes are not looking down
You seem so far
But I know you'll come around
Girl don't be shy
I know you can be brave
And if you come it is me that you'll save

Your smile is all that I need
I am restless and I just can't get to sleep
When my days are cloudy
All I want to see
Is your smiling face
Your shining face
Your smiling face

Cause when I look into those eyes
I see love not compromise
And when I see you smile back at me
I know there is hope
I know you will set me free

Your smile is all that I need
I am restless and I just can't get to sleep
When my days are cloudy
All I want to see
Is your smiling face
Your shining face
Your smiling face

Another day and I'm frustrated
I made mistakes and I just can't take it
I feel like I'm losing control
My soul is feeling weak
You are what I lean on
You are what I seek
Where are you I wonder
The outlook now seems bleak

Because when I need you the most, you're not there
Your face is a ghost and you don't care
And I've paid the cost, I've laid my heart bare
Baby meet me there, please meet me there

Because your smile is all that I need
I am restless and I just can't get to sleep
When my days are cloudy
All I want to see
Is your smiling face
Your shining face
Your smiling face

When I finished this I was both excited and disappointed at the same time. I was excited because I think I can actually put this to music and make into an actual song. I was disappointed because this seems so simple/cliche/weak sauce. But maybe writing something simple can help me build on song writing which is something I really want to get better at. We'll see what happens, I don't think I'll be a Garrett Gue any time soon though. He is a jerk for being so talented(from above) but you should check him out.

A Day in Passing

2007-10-06T02:16:00.000-06:00

A guy spits
Pompoms on hats bob
Rain drips off of coats
High heels clicking on the sidewalk
A girl rushes to get out of the weather
A biker pedals hard uphill
Some are chilled to the bone,
others seem proud of their rain boots
An artist protects her work from the weather

Hoods and umbrellas keep people hidden
Eyes on the wet pavement
Scowls, frowns, and furrowed brows are worn by all
Ducks wander from their home to new puddles formed
Every building exterior seems to sweat, the window panes cry
Shoe soles squeak on the floor, the rustle of rain gear
The collective groan as the rain carries on
Faces brightened at the smell of free food,
and the warmth of a church
A collage of leaves plucked prematurely from their branches lay on the ground
The temperature changes and snow threatens
Pant cuffs and floor mats are soaked through
Couches and chairs are packed with the weary and tired
Coffee and books get special attention as do blankets, furnaces and fires

Fall finally displays its beauty, however masked in gloom and cold

Wow

2007-10-06T01:55:00.000-06:00

I think that my title really sums up my week in one word. It is debatable whether or not this was the worst week of my college career thus far. On average I got between 3 and 4 hours of sleep a night, with fairly disappointing results. I didn't finish what I had set out to and ended up withdrawing from a lab I was taking. I had two test to take and the majority of studying was done in the hour before I took them. So wow embodies the nearly sleepless, frustrating, no fun, no face time with friends part of my week. The other side of wow that fits is how much fun I had tonight. It seemed like a pretty open night with only some general plans. But I ended up going to this thing called Midnight Mania that MSU puts on. Basically it is a free event, more geared at freshman, but all welcome. There were raffles for skis and passes, free pizza and Rockstar energy drink. Games ranged from Halo 3 to inflatable toys to chess games. They had several tournaments: volleyball, poker, dunk competition, etc. The whole night was so random, the strangest yet sweetest mix of activities you could put together. I got to hang out with a bunch of my friends who, because of this last week, I feel like I haven't seen in forever. But I also got to meet some new people who were awesome. I seriously can't think of any other venue where you could be seen playing polish horseshoes, honing your hoola hoop skills, showing off your lack of coordination at DDR, and solving a Rubik's Cube for speed. I really wish more people would have taken advantage of this night, but you have to forget about being self-conscious and just get lost for a while. But seriously, I had so much fun and really had no intention of being there for about 5 hours. It was such a blast. A perfect way to end the week. Wow.

Forgotten Words

2007-09-24T22:34:00.000-06:00

Let me say first that I am reluctant to publish this. I found this tucked away in a folder I made on my email. I wrote it over a month ago and forgot about it entirely. When I opened it up I realized I liked it a lot. The trouble is, this is a poor indicator of how I feel at the present. There isn't any hope in this piece of writing, if I could be a critic for a moment. I would say that is the biggest difference to my feelings then compared to my feelings now. I am much, much more hopeful. Anyway, I like it. This is more or less for me. This isn't a statement I am making. Writing doesn't always have little strings that connect to people and places and feelings. It can stand on its own, without latching on to objects that surround it. Sorry, one last thing and then on with it: it is really nice finding these little bits of writing. I seem to write on whatever I can get my hands on: school notebooks, emails, receipts, programs, you name it. Fun to find them and still like what I wrote.

Can’t Give Up

I was working all today, but I wasn’t at my job
No I was working on getting you out of my mind
Cause you’ve been stuck up there for so long
And I just can’t seem to get you out of there
Maybe it’s because I don’t want you to leave my mind,
just like I didn’t want you to leave my life
Why did you run?
I may never know
And why were you still outside my window every night after?
You didn’t discard me; you put me out of reach
That is what hurts me the most:
knowing you are there, but that I’ll never touch you again
At night I’m a wreck, all alone with my thoughts
And there is no one to tell me to relax, no one to calm me down
If there was some way to change your mind I don’t think I could do it
Cause even if I could convince you, you would still run, you always do
Maybe that was the problem: I tried to stop you from running
And that's what you’ve been doing since you left home
I even tried running with you for a while but you like running alone
So I’m left to walk through this world lost and lonely
If you ever get tired of running, know I’m waiting for you at home
Know I am here if you don’t want to go it alone

This is killing me
To have gotten so close only to be pushed away
With the offer of a different kind of closeness in the future
I don’t know if I can be that for you
I do know I can’t lose you altogether
But your friendship may hurt too much
To see your face and feel your presence might feel too much like the past
You are a memory I just can’t shake, a nightmare that won’t stop haunting me
What have you done to me?
Can you bear doing that to yourself?
Do the right choices have to hurt so much?

I’ve finally gotten better
It took time, a lot of deep breaths and taking things slow
But one thing hasn’t changed: the hurt I feel when I am around you
No matter how hard I try I still can’t shake the memory of us
When I see your face I remember all those nights we spent together
When you talk I can’t help but think of all the things you told me
And when you touch me I recall when you held me and told me to never let you go
I remember when I was the one you relied on to feel safe
I know now that I could not be the security you needed

The hurt will never go away, nor will it drive me away
Because being away from you hurts more
More than the feeling of failure, more than the feeling
That you were my all before you gave up on me
And even if the pain of being near you became too great to bear I would be unable to walk away
See I can’t give up on what little I have left, it is what I cling to

What a Beautiful Speedbump

2007-09-23T22:21:00.000-06:00

Change is a funny thing. It comes without warning. It leaves everything a mess for you to pick up. It won't make decisions for you but will let you know that there is action to take. I experienced such a feeling last week. I'm surprised that I heard that quiet voice annoyingly scratching at me. I was zoning out while a recruiter for grad school was giving a speech, and suddenly everything he had been saying for the last half hour made me stop and say "hey wait I don't want to do that!" It was there and then that I realized I needed to get off the path I had been following. The prize, the goal for which I have been working towards for the last 3 1/2 years seems to have been misguided. Slowly but surely my focus and interest in chemistry has turned slightly off course. What once intrigued me is now boring and inconsequential. And suddenly I found myself listening to this man's words fiercely: "you want your PhD work to be meaningful...otherwise you will be miserable." I sure don't want to be miserable. But he also in so many words was saying: "Matt, this and every other program in the country has nothing to offer you." Change is needed.
Now in the 3 days since this gut feeling hit I have made the following conclusions:
- Drastic, and immediate change is not necessary. I don't need to quit school and travel the world to find what will inspire me. I am actually seeking a change to another major in the same department.
- I have actually been wanting to make changes to my academic goals for some time. I have been unhappy at the lack to diversity in classes that I've been taking leading up to my chemistry degree. Now that I have a solid, unflinching feeling that I need to change, I can put my money where my mouth is.
- Finally I need spend a lot more time thinking about this, getting advice, and most of all keeping calm.
Today I was trying to get an idea of what changing my major would do on my goals for the future. In a matter of minutes I was completely worked up, questioning why I had been going to school at all if I hadn't been sure. I was suddenly enraged that I was ruining plans that I had made, and even plans I hadn't. In a way, not having the freedom of a set future was gnawing at me. Feeling that you are not in control is scary. I seemed to be saying to myself: "you are just a kid, what have you been doing making decisions on your own? What makes you think you are capable of following through?" But really anxiety just carries me away and once I settled down I realized that all was not lost. Sure things won't go the way I wanted, that is life. And life was also precisely the thing that I was dreading, as my undergraduate career was winding down. I was lamenting having to leave Bozeman (which I will). I was really unhappy to leave behind the people and the relationships I've formed, many of which are very new and not yet full-grown. I hate putting time in to getting to know someone and then turning around and saying: "well that was nice, but I've got my own life waiting for me and it doesn't involve you." Sure moving doesn't condemn a friendship but it create a new barrier to get around.
Obviously I have a lot to think about and time and patience will be absolutely necessary. But it's my life right? I gotta do what I gotta do. Don't misunderstand, I am very excited about this. Having to look at my life has shown me exactly what I do care about. I look forward to making changes and the struggle of this complication. What an awesome misstep, what a beautiful speedbump.

The Abyss

2007-09-12T14:15:00.000-06:00

I had this idea in my head, but without also presenting my stream of consciousness at the time with this idea, it would have sounded random. So I began to write a story around this idea. But in this process, the story got bigger and bigger and I found myself diverging from my idea. Needless to say I was not pleased with this. But I resolved to finish the story for the sake of completeness. So if you wish, and I would, please just scroll down to the paragraph with the asterisks around it and read that section. Honestly it is the only section that counts. It may not may make the most sense, but you have the rest of the story to refer to if you really are itching to know how that section fits it. I swear, the lengths we go to convey an idea.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away: there lived two strangers. Each lived a great distance away from the other. Every so often the time came for one of these strangers, we'll call her Deanna, to travel. The reason for her journey was related to her work as a doctor. In this land modern medicine hadn't yet been discovered, and most medicine was derived from plants. Deanna had been completing her annual inventory of the various medicines that she kept stocked. This year she was shocked to find that her supply of Dromalia flowers(an acute remedy for infections that plagued wounds) had been ruined due to a water leak in her cellar, where she kept her most rare and vital medicine. This was especially troubling because the Dromalia flower did not grow in the area in which Deanna lived. In fact the journey was so arduous that she had only twice completed the journey. Several failed attempts forced her to make the most out of trip, collecting the absolute amount of Dromalia as well as any other plants that she might find on the way that would be of use. Before water damage had destroyed Deanna's supply, there was enough of the flower to last nearly 5 years. Now she had nothing, and had no choice but to gather more to ensure that any infections would be treated before spreading and causing complications. So Deanna set out, traveling light for speed and not for surplus.

The other character in our story is a girl by the name of Chamry. Chamry set out on a trip of her own, a few days before Deanna departed. However Chamry's reason for leaving the comfort of home was not as directed as Deanna's. To be more accurate, Chamry ran away from home. Despite being a model child and at that being very loved among her other 5 siblings, she became restless. Chamry's life thus far had consisted of a warm and happy existence in which she was safe from harm and every form of vice and evil.

Recently Chamry had begun to feel this security suffocating her. She intuitively felt that shielding her from the world was actually hurting her and not helping. Chamry needed to experience something real, anything. So without warning she packed a small satchel with provisions and walked out the front door. This was a bold and daring step, however it was almost certainly a stupid one. Due to the heavy pampering from her loving parents, Chamry had learn little to nothing about survival in nature. She knew nothing about her surroundings, nothing. Just a little ways from her home, the landscape looked completely foreign. She had no idea of what animals lived in the forest, what plants she could eat, where to make good shelter, again nothing. To her credit she was a fast learner and a determined being.

After a week of aimless wandering, Chamry began to gain her bearings and now traveled west, following the sun into the horizon. After only a couple of days on this path, the world around Chamry changed dramatically. She found herself in a barren land. There was scarcely any vegetation in sight. The air felt thin, as if she was at an elevation much higher than her home. It wasn't long before Chamry came to a vast chasm, an abyss in the earth. It was not only very deep but it seemed to extent across the entire land. Under different circumstances Chamry probably would have simply found another route on her rambling journey. But something stirred within her to cross this gap, this break in the world. Chamry began walking along the edge of this huge canyon and suddenly became aware that she wasn't alone. Looking across the divide, she would see a woman, older than her also looking across.

***

As Deanna looked out in front of her she spotted someone who shared her plight. Apparently this girl that she could see across the way also needed to cross. Why, Deanna did not know, to a point the why didn't matter. What mattered was that both were in a discouraging position. You see there was no visible or imaginative way of crossing in sight. It was too wide for bridges to have been built, there were no trees or vines to possibly use to either traveler's advantage. The walls of the canyon were sheer, and no way to get down.

*So there they were: two strangers separated by a vast gap and no way to get over. But still each desperately wanted to get across. No, they needed to get to the other side. But they had no idea where to even start. Neither had been in such a situation before. There was no turning back however. Neither would be deterred from this challenge. With timidity and little hope, the two strangers began talking. They found a spot where the gap was small enough to hear the other. Through this they learned about the other: how they had came to this place and from where. More importantly they learned why the other needed to get over to the other side. Now don't be fooled this was a slow process, and at times it was not easy. From an outside perspective it did not turn out well for them. For after all their effort they did not find a way across and both were sent home empty handed. However if we able to ask them about how the journey had end up, I imagine both would have been ecstatic. Something much more valuable than their own selfish(however noble) motives were after was gained. For once they were not centered and they became devoted to someone else. For once they were foiled in their plan that they had been pursuing. It was then that the two strangers felt alive and felt free.*

So Deanna did not come home with the medicine, but she consorted with doctors from towns on the way home and eventually found a comparable substitute for her herb that she was after. And Chamry returned to her family, and for the first time she accepted and cherished the love that her parents showed her. She also learned to find adventure in her life, while still being under her parents protection.

In a way, both Chamry and Deanna did get across the abyss. Both got what they wanted, they just didn't know what they were searching for.

Camping Conundrum

2007-09-11T22:16:00.000-06:00

So this past weekend myself as well as a bunch of friends who are Young Life leaders went up to the mountains just outside of Yellowstone. Today I was looking at pictures and was struck. A certain picture of our fire at night caught my eye. I don't believe that I am alone when I say that fire is one of the most captivating phenomenon in the world. Think about it: wherever there is fire, there are people staring, mesmerized. Why is that exactly? On the one hand it is just fire, it's not like anyone is new to the sight. And yet we keep staring, as if when it dies out we will never again see the flames lick the air, or hear the crackle of the wood. We keep staring as though within the fire lies some hidden treasure, and if we look away for a minute or blink we will miss it. The question that still crosses my mind is simply what is fire? Yes I know that fire is the combustion of oxygen. But what kind of an answer is that? Science(as much as I have learned thus far) has fallen horribly short at categorizing this element of the earth. Because you cannot capture fire like you can a wild flower . You cannot collect a specimen of fire like a butterfly. All you can do is sustain a fire. You can keep it going with fuel and ideal weather conditions. But what is it? Sometimes the destructive power of fire is lost on me when I see it blown by the wind, seemingly as delicate as a feather. I think that our place here on earth becomes quite clear when with all our knowledge, technology, and history we are limited to describing fire as feebly as "fire is fire." Fire is a fact, a constant that is to be accepted, not challenged. Perhaps the task of breaking down fire is too daunting, and also maybe fire should be left alone. Afterall, who regrets the no doubt countless hours spent burning holes into the firelight, so to speak. Who doesn't enjoy the mystery that fire still poses? That enigma is a riddle I have and will continue to come back to again and again. With my blank stare and mouth agape, I will ponder fire and all that it holds.

Clean Slate

2007-09-10T14:37:00.000-06:00

Well, here goes nothing. While something tells me that I will most likely be the only one who enjoys these posts, I do give permission for others to read, comment, and learn about me through these. I think to start off my blogging experience I will write a song that I've been mulling over in my head for a while. It has no title as of yet, but I think it speaks for itself.

(guy)So now that we've taken a fall
You will take them all
To the places we would go
And do the things we used to do
Did all that mean anything to you?

(girl)Now when I look at you
You don't see me
No you look right on through
I use these words to calm you
But you just block me out
What am I supposed to do,
Did all that mean anything to you?

(both)Lord we shared so much
But now it hurts to touch
On those memories of bein' in the summer breeze
Was that pleasure worth this pain?
Is there any point in singing this refrain?
Did all that mean anything to you?

(both)I'm not asking you to fess up
But if I ask you one more time
And if your answer is yes,
Well I'll forget this whole mess
So, did all that mean anything to you?

Did all that mean everything to you?
Did all that mean everything to you?

There is just something about writing a song in the heat of the moment I guess you could say. Even though my feelings will inevitably change towards what I was writing about, I would never change the words. They stand as a marker, a milestone in my life. At that moment, they were right and anytime they are visited again they are still correct because they still live in that moment.