Tuesday, December 30, 2008
THE SANITY OF HUMANITY
Friday 19 September--Saturday 13 December 2008
No, not sanity,
Rather, insanity.
We choose depravity
Over spirituality.
Godless activity
Of our own ability,
Combining brutality
With reckless barbarity,
Forsaking Christianity
To live in captivity.
In our curiosity,
We embrace carnality
With its complexity
And crippling criminality.
We choose conformity,
With all its deformity,
Denying dignity,
Embracing disunity,
Duality,
Duplicity,
While ignoring the enormity
Of the whole of eternity,
Ignoring the finality
Of fatality
With the futility
Of frivolity,
Festivity.
We claim an identity
Void of integrity,
Living in immorality,
Grasping for immortality,
Sacrificing morality,
While denying our mortality,
Pursuing obscenity,
Wallowing in perversity,
Refusing the priority
Of purity
For pointless profanity
And meaningless popularity.
In our stupidity,
We give up security,
Existing in servility
To senseless sensuality,
Sacrificing sanctity,
With its simple simplicity,
Turning to vanity--
Lives squandered in vulgarity . . .
. . . and this is our sanity.
No, not sanity,
Rather, insanity.
We choose depravity
Over spirituality.
Godless activity
Of our own ability,
Combining brutality
With reckless barbarity,
Forsaking Christianity
To live in captivity.
In our curiosity,
We embrace carnality
With its complexity
And crippling criminality.
We choose conformity,
With all its deformity,
Denying dignity,
Embracing disunity,
Duality,
Duplicity,
While ignoring the enormity
Of the whole of eternity,
Ignoring the finality
Of fatality
With the futility
Of frivolity,
Festivity.
We claim an identity
Void of integrity,
Living in immorality,
Grasping for immortality,
Sacrificing morality,
While denying our mortality,
Pursuing obscenity,
Wallowing in perversity,
Refusing the priority
Of purity
For pointless profanity
And meaningless popularity.
In our stupidity,
We give up security,
Existing in servility
To senseless sensuality,
Sacrificing sanctity,
With its simple simplicity,
Turning to vanity--
Lives squandered in vulgarity . . .
. . . and this is our sanity.
FALLEN TOO MANY TIMES
February 8, 2006
But they still followed their Master,
And they had all fallen many times.
They walked and ran theShore of Life
For they were children of the King, and to Him they all belonged.
They bravely struggled onward
For Him pushing forward,
Rising up after falling many times.
One day, while they were treading thus, treading on the Shore,
One suddenly sat down and said, “I ain’t gonna walk no more.
I’ve walked and run,
And had some fun,
But I’ve fallen too many times.”
“Get up,” they said, “we’ll help you walk and keep you on your feet.
Do you want to be sitting there when Jesus you meet?
Do you think that He’ll be pleased,
When you rise up to your knees,
And say, ‘Sorry, but I’ve fallen too many times.’?
Said the one, “If Jesus wanted me on my feet, He would’ve kept me there.
Instead, He pulls me tripping and falling and going who knows where.
You go on, and I will stay
And maybe keep walking another day.
But, I’ve fallen too many times.”
So, they left the one sitting there, sitting on the sand.
They left him there and did not offer him a helping hand.
They didn’t help him.
They simply left him.
He had fallen one too many times.
They could have helped him rise and walk along.
They could have encouraged and helped him to stay strong,
But they just left him there.
They left him and didn’t care,
Because they had all fallen many times.
As you go through life, living each day,
Do you refuse to help a friend in any little way?
Make a stand.
Lend a hand
To those who have fallen many times.
Maybe, maybe God sent them you,
To help them to stand and to make it through.
Hold them tight
Through the night,
And help them keep their feet.
A group of friends were walking, walking by the sea.
They always kept on going. No failure could they see.
They all had seen disaster,They always kept on going. No failure could they see.
But they still followed their Master,
And they had all fallen many times.
They walked and ran the
For they were children of the King, and to Him they all belonged.
They bravely struggled onward
For Him pushing forward,
Rising up after falling many times.
One day, while they were treading thus, treading on the Shore,
One suddenly sat down and said, “I ain’t gonna walk no more.
I’ve walked and run,
And had some fun,
But I’ve fallen too many times.”
“Get up,” they said, “we’ll help you walk and keep you on your feet.
Do you want to be sitting there when Jesus you meet?
Do you think that He’ll be pleased,
When you rise up to your knees,
And say, ‘Sorry, but I’ve fallen too many times.’?
Said the one, “If Jesus wanted me on my feet, He would’ve kept me there.
Instead, He pulls me tripping and falling and going who knows where.
You go on, and I will stay
And maybe keep walking another day.
But, I’ve fallen too many times.”
So, they left the one sitting there, sitting on the sand.
They left him there and did not offer him a helping hand.
They didn’t help him.
They simply left him.
He had fallen one too many times.
They could have helped him rise and walk along.
They could have encouraged and helped him to stay strong,
But they just left him there.
They left him and didn’t care,
Because they had all fallen many times.
As you go through life, living each day,
Do you refuse to help a friend in any little way?
Make a stand.
Lend a hand
To those who have fallen many times.
Maybe, maybe God sent them you,
To help them to stand and to make it through.
Hold them tight
Through the night,
And help them keep their feet.
DESPAIR
February 28—March 5, 2006
Have you lost yourself, my friend?
Do you feel you’ve reached the end?
When you look back, do you feel only hurt,
Or worth a little less than dirt?
When you look ahead, do you feel only pain?
When you dare to hope do you think you’re insane?
I’ve been there, too.
I’ve a cure for you.
Don’t look down.
Lose the frown.
Look ahead.
Without dread.
Look to Jesus and smile again.
Remember, His love can never end.
Do you want to go swimming, but are afraid that you’ll drown?
Do you feel like you’re screaming, but can’t hear a sound?
Do you feel invisible in this big place?
Do you feel alone, but without any space?
When you see all your failures, do you tremble in fear,
Or do you remember Our Great God is here?
Can you find your way after wand’ring so long?
Can you find the strength to admit you were wrong?
Can you look at your friends and not feel ashamed,
Or really believe that they’re not to blame?
When you see their faces, will you smile at them?
Will it be alright? Can you laugh again?
My friend, I care.
So, don’t you dare
Believe I don’t.
Just read this note.
My love is such
That I care so much.
I want to see
You living free!
Put trust and love
In Christ above!
For only He
Can set you free!!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The Carnival of the Past
You may be lost in the world, looking for the “right track.” The amusement park of the past is familiar, bright, & colorful. The carnival music entices and draws you into recollection. The many tracks are attractive. No matter what age, you will find a track for all. Wood, metal, and other construction mediums combine for a smooth ride. And, there are so many to choose from. If you find that you’re tired of riding, you can play games, stuff yourself with food, or just get lost in the crowd. Sounds pleasant, eh?
The food is expensive and detrimental to your health. The price is not worth the mess it brings. Sticky hands and empty pockets are not a good trade for the lingering mess and short-lived satisfaction. And good luck finding a bathroom to wash your hands. Just don’t even look at the food in the first place.
The crowd? Ha. Good luck finding help from them. They’re in the confusion just the same as you. They wallow in the confusion, some even thriving on it.
The carnival games are practically pointless. You stop dead, pay a price, and if you possess a useless skill you might just win a prize. Yay, you now have a useless toy that you have to carry around, monopolizing an entire arm. If you are “lucky” enough you might have a sweetie there to give it to. An expression of your love, by handing them a relic from your past which they have no use for, save the occasional glance in its direction. Why burden anyone with that? If you are burdened with relics, give them to God. His arms are big enough for anything you’ve got, and He is thrilled with every one you choose to relinquish.
And then, there are the rides. The tracks of the past. You can ride the simple memories: the kiddie rides. You can ride the ones that turn and turn and turn until you barf. You can ride the tremendous monster roller coasters that dip and twirl and turn. You can put your hands in the air. You can scream. You can laugh.
And, some people enjoy this mess. They savor the tragic beauty of failure.
In the end, when the ride is over, you are right back where you started from. The track may have whipped you around, flung you high, drug you low, and turned you on your head, but you end up exactly where you began. With no progress.
A quick survey of your surroundings, and you will find that all the rides are the same. Whether you love them or hate them, they still go nowhere.
Endless, mindless, aimless, relentless, pointless, profitless, godless circles.
Why bother?!
Just save yourself some problems, and avoid the carnival altogether. You can’t change the past by dwelling on it or wallowing in it. Let God handle it all. He wants to. He’s waiting. Is your past so precious that you want to keep it so badly? To lick your wounds again and again? Reliving your nightmares of failure like you’re trapped in the House of Mirrors—by choice?
Instead, hop on the train. You already have your ticket. It was already paid for, all you have to do is to actually board the train.
Take the train. Those tracks are not as easy to get off of, and they continue until they reach their destination. You know where you should be headed: Directly at Christ! Find a platform, and board already!! Take a plane, take a boat, take the monorail if you must! Just find your destination, and go! Get there! (Sounds like a Seuss book.)
Perhaps someday, the past will call out to you. You might even hear the carnival music drift enticingly over a warm and gentle breeze. Just think about it. You might glance back, see the lights, the Ferris wheel, even listen to the music.
But.
Continue on. If your destination is worth it, you can’t afford to be distracted any longer.
Besides . . .
Carnival music is creepy.
The food is expensive and detrimental to your health. The price is not worth the mess it brings. Sticky hands and empty pockets are not a good trade for the lingering mess and short-lived satisfaction. And good luck finding a bathroom to wash your hands. Just don’t even look at the food in the first place.
The crowd? Ha. Good luck finding help from them. They’re in the confusion just the same as you. They wallow in the confusion, some even thriving on it.
The carnival games are practically pointless. You stop dead, pay a price, and if you possess a useless skill you might just win a prize. Yay, you now have a useless toy that you have to carry around, monopolizing an entire arm. If you are “lucky” enough you might have a sweetie there to give it to. An expression of your love, by handing them a relic from your past which they have no use for, save the occasional glance in its direction. Why burden anyone with that? If you are burdened with relics, give them to God. His arms are big enough for anything you’ve got, and He is thrilled with every one you choose to relinquish.
And then, there are the rides. The tracks of the past. You can ride the simple memories: the kiddie rides. You can ride the ones that turn and turn and turn until you barf. You can ride the tremendous monster roller coasters that dip and twirl and turn. You can put your hands in the air. You can scream. You can laugh.
And, some people enjoy this mess. They savor the tragic beauty of failure.
In the end, when the ride is over, you are right back where you started from. The track may have whipped you around, flung you high, drug you low, and turned you on your head, but you end up exactly where you began. With no progress.
A quick survey of your surroundings, and you will find that all the rides are the same. Whether you love them or hate them, they still go nowhere.
Endless, mindless, aimless, relentless, pointless, profitless, godless circles.
Why bother?!
Just save yourself some problems, and avoid the carnival altogether. You can’t change the past by dwelling on it or wallowing in it. Let God handle it all. He wants to. He’s waiting. Is your past so precious that you want to keep it so badly? To lick your wounds again and again? Reliving your nightmares of failure like you’re trapped in the House of Mirrors—by choice?
Instead, hop on the train. You already have your ticket. It was already paid for, all you have to do is to actually board the train.
Take the train. Those tracks are not as easy to get off of, and they continue until they reach their destination. You know where you should be headed: Directly at Christ! Find a platform, and board already!! Take a plane, take a boat, take the monorail if you must! Just find your destination, and go! Get there! (Sounds like a Seuss book.)
Perhaps someday, the past will call out to you. You might even hear the carnival music drift enticingly over a warm and gentle breeze. Just think about it. You might glance back, see the lights, the Ferris wheel, even listen to the music.
But.
Continue on. If your destination is worth it, you can’t afford to be distracted any longer.
Besides . . .
Carnival music is creepy.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Great Boxing
I happen to collect boxes from box lunches. After a while of saving up, I had accumulated a nice collection. My boxes, my friends boxes, and even some that I had rescued from the trash cans. And then, the perfect opportunity arrived. My RA had a birthday. So, a crack team and I assembled together to assemble the boxes. Here follows the "evidence."
My roommate messed with her Facebook
We covered her window
We blocked her pathway
So now, she would have to climb over her desk to get into her room
And, the best part is . . . she'll never know it was me!
Unless, of course, she reads the card we left her
. . . and signed . . . 
My roommate messed with her Facebook
We covered her window
We blocked her pathway
So now, she would have to climb over her desk to get into her room
And, the best part is . . . she'll never know it was me!
Unless, of course, she reads the card we left her
. . . and signed . . . 
The Snack That Smiles No More
Shock and horror flood through the aquatic nation as word is spread about the massacre of late Thursday night. This tale of tragedy and woe happened on the 24th of April in the now somber room of I2 in Fletcher dorm. It was during the dull of homework that Brittany entered the suite. Kaikai, the inhabitant of I2 called out her usual greeting of, “Quiet!” Apparently, this was provocation enough for Brittany. She threw her flip-flop at Kaikai, who was not phased, but simply proceeded to the window, flip-flop in hand. Her intention was to throw the innocent flip-flop out the window, as Brittany had done to Kaikai’s pillow a few days prior. When Brittany realized the imminent danger her flip-flop was in she raced to its rescue. Sadly, her rescue attempt was too late and the flip-flop, who had committed no crime, was flung out the window and plummeted to its doom. In a desperate act of retaliation, Brittany took out her revenge on the bag of goldfish, which were sitting helplessly on the windowsill. Their only crime had been their proximity. As the crackers crunched together, the cheesy bodies were mangled, mutilated, and mixed in the bag. With a few swift smacks, Brittany had managed to kill a community. And it did not end there. These victims too, were ejected out the 3rd-floor window. Bag and fish flew, and for an instant, the world held its breath. They landed unceremoniously with a sickening clatter. THE SAD ENDING The exposed corpses were scattered grotesquely across the grass. With no grave, they lay there baking in the sun. And various pieces still lie there, a solemn warning to anyone who wishes to try Brittany’s patience. THE HAPPY ENDING The flip-flop miraculously survived the fall and made a complete recovery. Reunited with its partner in a touching scene, the pair continue together to this day.
Welcome to Sixteen Random Facts About Me
So, since I am feeling very self-centered, self-focused, and generally self-aware, I thought that I would share with you. Welcome to . . . me.
1. I am an English Major who dislikes grammar. (However that works.)
2. I am anti-claustrophobic. (I sleep under the bed.)
3. I have cafeteriaphobia. (It’s all the people.)
4. I have two middle names. (And, no I won’t tell you what they are. Don’t ask.)
5. I love to play street hockey. (I guess I’m pretty good even for a girl.)
6. I have way too much stuff. (Massive re-organization coming soon.)
7. Red is my ultimate favorite color of all time. (Symbolically, aesthetically, comparatively, etc.)
8. I broke my head open when I was little, and the doctor tied my long hair in surgical knots to keep my head together as it healed. (If my hair was really short, you’d be able to see where the hair is still freaking out from that.)
9. Yesterday, I drank a 2 litre, skin-colored concoction made from lemonade, pink lemonade, citrus green tea, and raspberry green tea. (It goes without saying that I visited the bathroom often, but I will mention it anyways because of how ridiculously often it was.)
10. I was born 10 days early. (All of my sisters were born late.)
11. I like to draw.
12. I wear Christmas socks all year round. (They’re really too spectacular to be confined to only one month out of twelve.)
13. My crazy mind takes completely normal objects and transforms them. (Butcher paper into a mural on my wall, a giant origami kusudama, a sweet book cover, etc. Apples become, well, carved apples. Twisty-ties become trees or Sleeping Beauty. And more crazy ideas.)
14. I love asking questions.
15. I laugh when I’m nervous or awkward. (Just ask my roomie.)
16. I’m awkward a lot. (See numbers 3, 12, 13, 15, and especially 9.)
1. I am an English Major who dislikes grammar. (However that works.)
2. I am anti-claustrophobic. (I sleep under the bed.)
3. I have cafeteriaphobia. (It’s all the people.)
4. I have two middle names. (And, no I won’t tell you what they are. Don’t ask.)
5. I love to play street hockey. (I guess I’m pretty good even for a girl.)
6. I have way too much stuff. (Massive re-organization coming soon.)
7. Red is my ultimate favorite color of all time. (Symbolically, aesthetically, comparatively, etc.)
8. I broke my head open when I was little, and the doctor tied my long hair in surgical knots to keep my head together as it healed. (If my hair was really short, you’d be able to see where the hair is still freaking out from that.)
9. Yesterday, I drank a 2 litre, skin-colored concoction made from lemonade, pink lemonade, citrus green tea, and raspberry green tea. (It goes without saying that I visited the bathroom often, but I will mention it anyways because of how ridiculously often it was.)
10. I was born 10 days early. (All of my sisters were born late.)
11. I like to draw.
12. I wear Christmas socks all year round. (They’re really too spectacular to be confined to only one month out of twelve.)
13. My crazy mind takes completely normal objects and transforms them. (Butcher paper into a mural on my wall, a giant origami kusudama, a sweet book cover, etc. Apples become, well, carved apples. Twisty-ties become trees or Sleeping Beauty. And more crazy ideas.)
14. I love asking questions.
15. I laugh when I’m nervous or awkward. (Just ask my roomie.)
16. I’m awkward a lot. (See numbers 3, 12, 13, 15, and especially 9.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)