!Nerd Alert!

the sirens you may (or may not) be hearing in your head are the effect of coming into close contact with a nerd. why me? because i get excited about now having an rss feed for the blog and adding three papers to the file-holding cell.

this is a real emergency and as such you should sell all you have and send the money in a check made out to cash to me.

Blogging edit....

Spell check and grammar check have saved my neck on more than one occasion. The jagged red and green lines crying out to me for a second glance. "Don't just speed on by, writing as stream of conciousness as possible. Look at me! I need attention. Your fat fingers have pounded too many keys at the same time and the beer in your head has replaced proper English." Ah, how those lines have saved me from certain unintelligibility.

Yet, here it sits before me. Etched forever (perhaps) in cyberspace, the fact that I, Graham, am not perfect. Not even am I just not perfect, no, I can't even write an understandable sentence. (see post below) What was to be a poetic thought on possessing/possessions now could be turned in by only the most unobservant thirdgrader.

So why write this? Why spend this much time explaining myself when I could, just as easily, have been using the edit feature to erase away all proof of my error? Only to ask the question: where is my pride? Who's glory am I fighting for? Most of the time it is my own. Do the best I can so that others will recognize my greatness. Yes, I will play the ball-hog to run up my personal stats.

who doesn't?...

[edit] 21:15 10/11/06

Ever wonder whether you own something or it owns you? Try having 50gigs worth of your life locked on a hard drive that just might not work ever again...or perhaps be sitting at work (like I am right now) with rain pouring down so hard it's as if the banks of that crazy river in heaven have broken and the water is trying to flood heaven like New Orleans but only just clear the edge and fall down through space and time and just about tear through the awning by my head, and then you member that the windows at home are wide open...all of them. Consider this and then try and answer the question.

unfortunately the near panic attack of the former and the broken heart from the latter prove my worth.

does any one else see the irony?

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/09/19/AR2006091901304.html

an hours contemplation on what it takes to be published from the mouth of Steve Brown. should it scare me that i am enticed......

There are just some things in life that cause you to pause, take a step back, and for just a moment see a more panoramic vista of the life you are living. It's as if you are flying down the interstate, looking at nothing but the white and yellow pulsating with your passing, and then for some inexplicable reason you pull off at the 'scenic overlook' and realize that there is a whole world out there that is not paved and potholed.

It may be that this is some safety mechanism that God has placed in our souls because, at least for myself, it seems to happen the most when life itself is spinning out of control. To continue the driving analogy, it's as if the only place you can go is the overlook because all four tires have blown and you're spinning off the road.

It feels as if my tires have been blowing a lot more frequently than they have in the past. This hit me as I was watching a movie last Sunday. Sitting there, in the midst of a "children's" film, I found myself tearing up as the characters dealt with the issue of slowing down, living where you are at, and seeing the grander picture of the fulness of life. The grind has finally worn its way through the thick hide of my soul and is starting to burn tender insides. I'm read to do something different. I'm ready to move on to the next stage in life. I readily admit that I have no clue what the next thing looks like. Yet I hold out hope that someday, somehow, I might wake up and realize that I've set up house on that 'overlook' drinking in life with every breath.

pause...

what does it mean to be faithful to the Bible? Does it require one to strictly repeat the words of the text or does it mean that we must faithfuly interpret the text for application in modern times?

more thoughts later, but 'you think about that' (yes, i'm sitting in Steve Brown's class).

So my buddy Uri has decided to list me in his 'friends' blogs' section of his blog... great, now I actually have to write something here from time to time. ;) j/k man.

The thing which weighs the heaviest on my mind right now is the responsibility that teachers have. Having just been asked to help TA for ITS this semester has really brought this to bear. I know, I know, I've been teaching sunday school for the past two years, but for some reason the academic setting is more intimidating to me. Perhaps it is because seeing the Bible as the source of life and drawing application from that comes naturally (somewhat) to me now, but having to digest all of the authors, their views, and the purpose of the course as a whole in order to teach this to others is a bit overwhelming. And so it is that the thought comes to mind that I must place all things under Christ and he will provide the neccessary strength to do what he has called me to do. Though I must say that if I feel this way from just a TA'ing gig I can't imagine how I will feel when the time comes for me to be a pastor... yeah... I let that thought lie until it bites me in the butt.

until then...

Yes, it has been a while. However, I can say that I have been, perhaps, the most busy these past few weeks than I have ever been before in my entire life. Well, maybe I ought to modify that by saying that I am ranking it on the stress-level meter. Work and school and marriage, all in proportions that are full time occupations, came together to cause 'the perfect storm.'

No, for real, it was crazy and I am so glad that it is over. Now all I have to do is survive two more of those and I'll be done with seminary. Ahh, some day that will happen. I love it here, but can feel the bug nibbling to move on.

On another note, probably the two finest papers I have ever been a part of are now on the paper site. see the link on the side to fill your brain with lots of stuff, it's your call whether it is good or not....

what a question...

Do you ever find it hard to focus?  I know I do.  There are so many things that are battling for my attention that I feel like I skim along the top of most things and never really get to their depths.  What do I mean by this?  Things like, when I read for class I seem to turn pages more than turn thoughts in my head, or when I spend time in the word I cannot just sit and meditate on it.

Pastor Curt, the other week, said that if you are too busy to spend time with the Lord you are too busy.  I think I am guilty as charged.  But how do I rectify the situation?  That’s the question of the hour.  I cannot cut out work; the bills have to be paid.  I cannot cut out the reading and writing; they are a necessity for graduation.  And I most definitely cannot cut time spent with Becky; if I were to do so I would be under censure of the Scriptures for not running my household in a Godly manner (besides the fact that I would much rather spend time with her than reading, writing, and working).  So what am I do?  I’m not sure.  Pray is what I will do for now.  Maybe the answer will come.

I have just put up a link to a site that houses papers I have written. It's right there above the recent posts. Feel free to peruse...

Sometimes it does not make sense to me, this feeling that I get regarding writing papers. I'm here again, just like yesterday, writing for Judges-Poets. But the difference now is this... I'm going to go over the page limit. At first I worry 'will I have enough to write', and now I worry 'editing back to 10 pages takes too much effort'.

All that might not seem so odd, except for this extrinsic fact, I'm not very verbose. At least when it comes to talking. I say what I want to say and it doesn't take that much time. But when you sit me in front of a keyboard I cannot get my fingers to stop moving. I'm sure I've commented on this somewhere on this blog before, but it never ceases to amaze me.

What would be nice is if people at least enjoy what I have to say. If not...

(I'm sure to post the paper when I am done. let me know what you think)

Have you ever considered...

Have you ever considered what it means to study Scripture?  That every time you come to the Word of God you are bound to respond to it.  Either you will come away with a heart that is softer for the things of the Lord or it is harder.

I sit here now in the throws of writing a paper on the poetic devices used in Judges chapter four and that thought hit me.  Am I sitting here soaking in the life-giving Word, or is the knowledge harden me?

Just a thought you might consider…

There have been thoughts running around in my head that I have not recently been able to think clearly about... and I think that it mostly comes from not laying them down in some sort of format that I can peruse. And so I write on this blog again. For the past two years I have not written much of anything, but I have a yearning to write again.

Why do stories cause me to cry? What is it about pictures of life put to music affect me so deeply? What is it about these things? I cannot listen to a certain new album I bought without feeling the call to something much more beautiful than my own life. It is for this reason that I believe that God gave us stories in the Bible. Think about it. If all we had in the Bible was a systematic theology that we had to memorize to get this Christian life thing down where would the beauty be.

We would not see pictures of Abram and Sarai packing up all they had a walking into the sunset for a land they had never seen.

We would miss the agony of Job as he lay in ashes, jabbing his boil covered body with broken potsherds as he cries out to God for answers.

Where would the heartwrenching picture of a brokenhearted savior praying his heart out to his father in a dark garden, deserted by his friends.

I need stories. I cannot survive without them. What is my story? I think I lose sight of it sometimes. Maybe I ought to write it sometime.

And the last day at work has come.

Yes my friends, that great feeling of never having to go back to your previous place of employment is now brewing within my soul. It's not that I hated my work... well let me rephrase that, I did not care for the work, but I thoroughly enjoyed the people that I worked with. So that made things bearable. But even still I am sitting here now feeling wonderful that never again will I have to work there. If you are wondering where "there" is I will hint with this statement: it had something to do with seeing the inner workings of the human body (without cutting). That's all you get.

And now my life will be consumed with packing for the next two days. The bus pulls out of town on friday so all our junk's gotta be on the van then. ~and my head pounds~

Friday June 18th. Not nearly as superstitious as say a Friday the 13th, but something else is rather eerie on this day. Perhaps maybe it's only because one year ago on this day was the last time I posted to this website. What are the chances of that? It reminds me of another such occurrence in my life. It happened several years ago while I was still in college. I was sitting at the bus stop waiting to go to class and I was rereading one of my favorite books, The Fellowship of the Ring. As I began to read chapter one of the second book this interaction jumped out at me.

"'Where am I, and what is the time?' [Frodo] said to the ceiling.

'In the house of Elrond, and it is ten o'clock in the morning,' said a voice. 'It is the morning of October the twenty-fourth, if you want to know.'"

Why did this startle me so? It is because it was the twenty-fourth of October and it also happened to be 10am as a sat at that bus stop. Now I ask you, what are the chances of that?

So that being what it is, life has completely changed since my last post. I will no longer live the life of the bachelor anymore(which is an amazingly good change). And that job that I was complaining so about is about to be history to me. Now in front of me lies the fascinatingly frightening job of Seminary. The Lord leads me now into His service, a responsibility that is both august and terrifying at the same time. Can I learn all that I need to? Will I remember it all? Will I be able to not only teach the Word, but live it as well? For pastoring is far more than teaching for one hour on a sunday morning. It involves the entire life of the church. That idea is even where we get our word pastor. Pastor comes down to us from the Latin word... pastor. You got it, the same word. In the Latin it meant "herdsman". That's the idea. A pastor leads his congregation in the same manner as a herdsman leads his flock of animals, with loving attention for their well-being.

only in Him can i do this

The time is drawing nearer for the last shreds of childhood to fall from me. School has ended and all I am left with is an oversided sheet of paper with my name in gothic font and the stamped signature of the president of the university saying that I'm supposed to have rights afforded me by my graduation (yeah right). As if that and the fact that I'm going to work practically every day for the rest of my natural life weren't enough I'm also getting married in just under three months. Fall skin fall. Scrape away the memories to leave only the flame. Somewhere someone wishes for more than this, but I've held it all so tight.

Sorry, kinda fell into verse there. I've got a habit of doing that. So here I sit, at my computer, set up in the living room of my parents' house, uncomfortable chair causing the knot between my shoulder blades to quiver almost rhythmically with the sounds of The Fire Theft, which is an incredible band by the way, everyone must check them out. And even as I sit here I remember why I've fallen away from writing here all the time. It takes me so long to come up with coherent statements to type, and even at that much of what I say I'm sure is decipherable only by me. But really it doesn't matter to me. At this point I'm enoying the simple mental stimulation that writing affords. There was a time when I could pound out page upon page and think nothing of it, but here I am now, a college grad mind you, finding it a study in concentration and determination to put down what I feel. It's a tad pathetic really, but whatever, this is where life has brought me and I will continue to move down the wave that I am riding now.

And that wave is leading to her...

And here I find myself again... staring at this display like welcoming an old friend. I really had forgotten about the weblog until getting an IM from a random person who happened to be in Ireland. The conversation went something like "Hey you should update your journal" and I'm like " woah, haven't done that in a while" and then "yeah well you should, it was interesting". So I'm like "Ok, I'll give it another shot." And while it is far too late right now for me to write anything coherent, coupled with the fact that the chair at this desk is so very uncomfortable, I write this now for that person's sake. Yes, more shall be coming, though I can't promise anything of substance, or really anything that anyone else might find at all interesting, I always am honest to myself. So there Zoot54 or whatever it was, my memory is terrible, this one's for you.

An ocean has passed underneath this digital bridge of bytes since I last wrote any of the rambling incoherent thoughts that spark around in my brain. My life has been turned upside-down. What was once laziness and blissful inactivity has been transformed into smothering activity and responsibility. But that is fine by me.

The refining fire of my God's molding is painful and awkward. It leaves nothing left as it was. It reveals those things which I thought most sure to be whisping shadows of the truth. The wall that I was is now being, brick by painful brick, taken apart.

And I welcome it.

The thought occurred to me last night as I was entrenched in a four hour long bible study that nothing of which I hold on to most dearly is my own. I owe it all to another, namely God. As I saw a member of the study, who I have thought to be full of potential but not living up to it, take hold what was being discussed, where we find our satisfaction and if we are even satisfied at all, and turn it upon us all as a call toward accountability and change. The desire for personal holiness was one that was finally grasped at some measure last night. And none of it was my doing. I have tried to be diligent in my time spent pouring into the guys, but I feel as if I have failed so far in being a true discipler. I know God has given me the ability and desire to teach the word, but the human connection is one that I let slip by so many times. And I was feeling so last night, but then God moved. Or should I rather put it God moved us. Moved us to desire the close spiritual bond between brothers who want to be real with themselves and with others. I count myself privilaged to be used by the Lord to accomplish his goals.

On a completely different note: It's a fine line I tread between reality and emotive expression on this page. Bare facts are too bland and pure sensationalism is just a cover to make up things that never occured or were felt. I feel what I have done is to find a way to express the feelings of a moment on virtual paper. Extending periods of time that took seconds but felt like eternity and shortening eons that went by with the blink of an eye. It is one of the most profound things I have found, to be totally consumed in a moment. To where time slows to a stand still and everything you feel is deeper and broader and more expansive than you ever thought imaginable. The rest of the world may continue to move at its sickeningly fast pace, but you have been caught up past and above it to catch a glimpse of things as you've never seen them before. I've never been one to base my beliefs or convictions off of a moments emotion, but it is in those times where I frequently find myself at the feet of the Lord. In a moment I am taken from my feet to my knees pouring out my heart to Him. Maybe tears arise from joy, maybe from sorrow. Maybe they don't come at all. Maybe I am just still and silent before the author of my story. There is no formula, no twelve-step plan to this, it can only come from a deep desire for something transcendent beyond yourself and in searching for it finding Him standing and waiting. "Be still and know that I am God" It is there, in that moment, in the presence of the holy, that creation is made as complete as it will be this side of eternity.

But for everything there is a time and to try and grab hold of this and make it last forever is the worst thing that you can do. You become a junkie of emotional experience. You desire the feeling over the meaning of and for it. You become the worshiped one instead of He who is the only one to be worshiped. You whore yourself out to anything and everything that will make you feel this way. Your perception of God and when He is speaking and moving becomes distorted and you can no longer hear Him because you are trying to. It it no longer about Him, but about you.

And that is the greatest evil of this age...
We have made ourselves god...
and he is dead...
where does that leave us?

This semester is going to be different, I can feel it.

There is a certain feel in the air. An expectancy of something like I have not felt before. Perhaps because it is my last year and I am placing more weight on truly living life to the fullest, or maybe because God is doing something new in my life. I tend to believe it is both.

It's the calm before the storm. When the storm will come or what it is going to bring is a complete mystery to me, but I must stand firm and not be moved by the winds that will try to blow me down.

I wish I could write more, but time is wearing down and I have much to do tomorrow. I will not forget the feeling, never let it slip through my fingers.