There is a baby spider that lives in my iHome. He is barely the size of a fruit fly, and he has constructed this bitty web in the two inch space between the iHome and my roommate's lamp. He must have been crashing here for a while; we didn't notice his presence until dust had settled on his web over time, revealing his position. Lo, and behold - baby spidey. In the midst of a remarkably spider-free summer, he doesn't seem to pose much of a threat. He likes to stroll upside-down on his web, and has a bad habit of not catching any food.
I put on some Shane & Shane this evening, and have been observing him for a while. His main stakeout is a hole for one of the screws underneath the speaker. When I bump his web a bit, he comes out to investigate, and then returns to the hole after his walkabout. I think if I were a baby spider, I would live in an iHome as well. The music probably sounds great from his living room.
I'm excited to be moving again. Part of me, though, is sad that I'll have to destroy the little dude's home. It isn't his fault the iHome's owner is moving. He just found a nice homestead, and staked his claim. To be fair, I hadn't posted a memo or anything, informing potential boarders that there was a strict "no spider roommates" policy. Li'l dude is getting evicted. Maybe he will run free, in the wild. Or maybe I'll squish him. If I actually post this, I'll probably feel obligated to set him loose outdoors. Like in Charlotte's Web, except the spider gets famous and is spared its life.
What a weird blog post. I guess I write about spiders sometimes.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Giving Up, Giving In
Our head lifeguard once described our job as "Facilitators of Worship". This is not just us lifeguards; this is anyone and everyone that contributes to the life of the camp.
We run the camp in order to give the guest group leaders the freedom to focus on ministering to the kiddos.
We, as the staff, cook all the meals. We wash all the dishes. We facilitate the paintball course and the zipline. We clean their rooms when they leave. We scrub their toilets and showers. We coordinate the use of certain buildings for their gathering. We make sure they are safe and having fun while they use the waterfront.
We don't live glamorously, here. All those jobs above aren't the most enticing bullet points on a dream job description. We don't always get to eat when we want, and we give up our idyllic parking spaces for the groups. For the most part, our sleeping arrangements are on the cozy side. Showers, sinks, toilet paper, fridge space, noise levels, transportation... We share our space. We live, sleep, eat, work, learn, and play on this campus, and sometimes it does get a little crowded.
For at least one summer out of our lives, however, we have chosen this. One might ask what the draw is. Does the outdoor lifestyle make it worth it? Do we just love serving that much? Are dish-washing and ziplines our passions in life? Likely not. We do have a few cooks that are bound for bigger and better things, and I suppose lifeguarding is a transferable skill - are we just here to gain experience for the real world?
Imagine - if the group directors had to plan, coordinate, hire for, and facilitate all of these things... Would a summer kids camp of this scale even happen? And if it did, would the cabin leaders have this kind of opportunity to build relationship with their campers?
Maybe it is just me. Camp gets me excited, and I love playing a role - any role - in making each week an unforgettable experience for campers and leaders alike. If it's just telling kids not to run on the dock, housekeeping in preparation for their stay, or perhaps making them a smoothie or two - that's enough. I'm not on the front lines of the battle for their souls, but I am enabling those that are. They can dedicate all their time and attention to the growth of the 5 to 10 little lives in their care. Change happens here. God can do so much in the span of a week, when campers are willing to hear from Him. Often, it seems that kids are more open here to the movement of God, than at home, making this a critical point in time. Every moment, every interaction has the potential to shape someone's destiny. A kind word, a warning given with love, a delicious meal, a smile, a welcoming staff... You never know.
It is so easy for me to start thinking of this as "just work", and the people that enter this campus as "just another guest group". I don't own this place. I don't even run it. I have been employed and blessed with housing, meals, laundry, and so much more. God is doing incredible things here, and I might miss it all if I'm so blinded by my SELF and what I foolishly think I deserve. I never, ever, ever want my selfishness or sense of entitlement to inhibit the work of the Lord. It is so easy to do. So incredibly easy. My bodily instinct is to serve ME first, and to make my personal comfort first priority. It comes so naturally. My daily mantra needs to be "Love others, love others, love others."
So this is me, giving up and giving in. My life is not my own, but belongs to the One who paid the ultimate price. He gave everything for the eternity of my soul; who am I to refrain from giving it all back to Him? Who am I to claim my right to eat food before anyone else? Who am I to think the laundry room belongs to me? Who am I to whine about parking on the other side of the camp, a mere 2 minutes away? Who am I to think of myself as higher than those I serve? Christ was the ultimate servant of all. I would make myself a Pharisee.
We run the camp in order to give the guest group leaders the freedom to focus on ministering to the kiddos.
We, as the staff, cook all the meals. We wash all the dishes. We facilitate the paintball course and the zipline. We clean their rooms when they leave. We scrub their toilets and showers. We coordinate the use of certain buildings for their gathering. We make sure they are safe and having fun while they use the waterfront.
We don't live glamorously, here. All those jobs above aren't the most enticing bullet points on a dream job description. We don't always get to eat when we want, and we give up our idyllic parking spaces for the groups. For the most part, our sleeping arrangements are on the cozy side. Showers, sinks, toilet paper, fridge space, noise levels, transportation... We share our space. We live, sleep, eat, work, learn, and play on this campus, and sometimes it does get a little crowded.
For at least one summer out of our lives, however, we have chosen this. One might ask what the draw is. Does the outdoor lifestyle make it worth it? Do we just love serving that much? Are dish-washing and ziplines our passions in life? Likely not. We do have a few cooks that are bound for bigger and better things, and I suppose lifeguarding is a transferable skill - are we just here to gain experience for the real world?
Imagine - if the group directors had to plan, coordinate, hire for, and facilitate all of these things... Would a summer kids camp of this scale even happen? And if it did, would the cabin leaders have this kind of opportunity to build relationship with their campers?
Maybe it is just me. Camp gets me excited, and I love playing a role - any role - in making each week an unforgettable experience for campers and leaders alike. If it's just telling kids not to run on the dock, housekeeping in preparation for their stay, or perhaps making them a smoothie or two - that's enough. I'm not on the front lines of the battle for their souls, but I am enabling those that are. They can dedicate all their time and attention to the growth of the 5 to 10 little lives in their care. Change happens here. God can do so much in the span of a week, when campers are willing to hear from Him. Often, it seems that kids are more open here to the movement of God, than at home, making this a critical point in time. Every moment, every interaction has the potential to shape someone's destiny. A kind word, a warning given with love, a delicious meal, a smile, a welcoming staff... You never know.
It is so easy for me to start thinking of this as "just work", and the people that enter this campus as "just another guest group". I don't own this place. I don't even run it. I have been employed and blessed with housing, meals, laundry, and so much more. God is doing incredible things here, and I might miss it all if I'm so blinded by my SELF and what I foolishly think I deserve. I never, ever, ever want my selfishness or sense of entitlement to inhibit the work of the Lord. It is so easy to do. So incredibly easy. My bodily instinct is to serve ME first, and to make my personal comfort first priority. It comes so naturally. My daily mantra needs to be "Love others, love others, love others."
So this is me, giving up and giving in. My life is not my own, but belongs to the One who paid the ultimate price. He gave everything for the eternity of my soul; who am I to refrain from giving it all back to Him? Who am I to claim my right to eat food before anyone else? Who am I to think the laundry room belongs to me? Who am I to whine about parking on the other side of the camp, a mere 2 minutes away? Who am I to think of myself as higher than those I serve? Christ was the ultimate servant of all. I would make myself a Pharisee.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Memories and Moving On
It's interesting how we can get so used to our surroundings that we forget about them entirely. The most basic things get looked over; it turns out we know nothing about the places we live and claim to love.
I am blessed to live on a gorgeous Washington lake. I won't be here forever, but I have nevertheless fallen in love with everything about this place. Every season is unique and beautiful, and the lake has a new face every morning. She changes everyday. Some mornings are dark and foggy, while others shine in the hopeful golden light of the sun. Some days, the eagle screeches and chases the crows around, but other days are eerily silent. The series of hills and mountains above the lake creates the perfect frame for the scene. It's amazing. Everyday, it's amazing.
It's been cloudy for a while now, around here. It feels like there hasn't been a clear day for weeks. Maybe I've just gotten used to it. I swore the lake would never loose its wonder, and I would never take it for granted. ...Have I started doing exactly that?
Just today, I glanced towards the lake on my way to my room. I stopped suddenly, and did a double take. Something seemed different, and... off. It seemed smaller, or something. I thought it must be the overcast day, making everything look a little bit sadder. I resigned myself to that thought, and continued on with my day.
But just now, I had a moment of sorts. Here I am, sitting in front of a window, with a view before me that I have been cherishing for nearly a decade. You can see in the top picture that there are two major hills that make up the majority of the skyline: Sugarloaf, the smaller peak on the left, and Mt. McDonald, the big one on the right. That photo was taken early on a clear winter morning, last year. The bottom photo, however, was taken today, and, as you can see, McDonald is invisible. The fog and clouds have been hiding it for days now, and I have started questioning myself. Maybe it's dumb, and I ought to know better, but just now, I was standing here wondering why the mountain was so small. I thought for sure that the trees on the lake didn't reach that high. Maybe they grew? But that couldn't make sense...
I had to pull out my old photos to reassure myself that the highest hill was still actually there, and not simply a figment of my imagination. How did I forget something like that? An entire mountain, gone missing from my memory.
Maybe I'm being too dramatic about this, but it makes me think. What else have I lost? Dreams, ambitions, passions, friendships, opportunities, memories... Some things I turn in and trade for new, like dreams of the future. But other things just seem to go missing. Undoubtedly, much of it is my fault. I could have tried harder, pursued things that matter to me, prioritized, and so on. I overlook so much. I fly past the little things - the ones that often matter most. The monumental things get lost as well. The big picture. The most obvious and essential. I walk right on by.
I think I've been neglecting Jesus, as well. No matter how many times I realize that it's foolish to do this life without him, he gets swept to the sideline. I always want to be the coach, the quarterback, the wide receiver, the tight end, AND the offensive line. I'll do all the work; Jesus, you can be, uh... Head cheerleader. And of course, my Team of Me inevitably falls flat on its face, all season long. When it's over, the scene of carnage tattooed in my mind's eye, and I'm sitting alone in a vacant locker room, a complete failure... Jesus is there. I realize his hand has been on my shoulder the whole time, gently leading me. My finite foolishness disregarded his infinite wisdom, I went my own way, and here I sit. Here we sit.
He is here for all the heartache and tears, through every moment of the seemingly endless ache. His love does not cease when I'm moody, boring, annoying, rude, incompetent, or all of the above. It has never been about me! It's all about what he did for me. His love... It crashes through my walls of self-doubt, and names me Child of God. It tramples my defeat, making it victory through him. My mess becomes something beautiful. Is this not the biggest thing? The greatest news? The most glorious release, impacting every aspect of life on this earth? And yet. I. Dare. Forget. I let this Mountain of Love, Salvation, Joy, Forgiveness, Restoration, and Peace be forgotten, hidden by a frail, misty veil of Doubt, Sin, Failure, Monotony, Fear, Masks. He tears the fog down, and once again, my knees hit the floor.
I think this is how I move forward. Rejoicing in his salvation. Trusting in him. Resting in his love. And then, someday, learning to love like he does.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Christmas Eve from Above
You have never truly seen the Pacific Northwest until you've seen it at sunrise, as your plane emerges from the dense blanket of cloudcover nestled above the sleepy Seattle suburbs. You hover above an ocean of mist and darkness, peering ahead towards the fierce, orange glow of the horizon. This is a sight you can never forget. You crane your neck to peer ahead, but the shadows and twinkling lights of land have disappeared; beneath you are only the violet-grey rolling waves of the morning mist.
From where you sit, all is clear. The deep, heavy azure of the starlit heavens above is only made deeper by the fiery, vivid light of the approaching spectacle of morning. And as your aircraft banks east, the mountain lies before you, more stately and majestic than you've ever seen her. She rises up from the sea of clouds, still deep indigo against the coming light of day.
Minutes steal by unobserved, as your plane pulls close to the mountain, and circles, as though it were a moon to the indescribable mass. You have only ever seen her as a far-off mural against the sky, but today she is alive. She is real. And she is monstrous. Cameras are out, but you refrain. No photo could capture the tremendous wonder before you; it would only cheapen it.
You continue your journey east into the sunrise, but gaze back to see the first true light of dawn greet the face of the mountain. And this happens every day?
I miss so much. I am so blind to the beauty around me. I want my eyes wide open and anxious to behold the preciousness of life - whether in joy or heartache, laughter or tears, friendship or loneliness. There's enough hopelessness in the cities under the clouds. If we have been blessed with the beauty of the mountain, we ought to carry it with us when we return, to light the valleys below.
From where you sit, all is clear. The deep, heavy azure of the starlit heavens above is only made deeper by the fiery, vivid light of the approaching spectacle of morning. And as your aircraft banks east, the mountain lies before you, more stately and majestic than you've ever seen her. She rises up from the sea of clouds, still deep indigo against the coming light of day.
Minutes steal by unobserved, as your plane pulls close to the mountain, and circles, as though it were a moon to the indescribable mass. You have only ever seen her as a far-off mural against the sky, but today she is alive. She is real. And she is monstrous. Cameras are out, but you refrain. No photo could capture the tremendous wonder before you; it would only cheapen it.
You continue your journey east into the sunrise, but gaze back to see the first true light of dawn greet the face of the mountain. And this happens every day?
I miss so much. I am so blind to the beauty around me. I want my eyes wide open and anxious to behold the preciousness of life - whether in joy or heartache, laughter or tears, friendship or loneliness. There's enough hopelessness in the cities under the clouds. If we have been blessed with the beauty of the mountain, we ought to carry it with us when we return, to light the valleys below.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Guesting on Catie's Blog!
Hey guys! So my good friend Catie asked me to write a guest post for her blog! I was super honored, and enjoyed it a whole ton. Head on over to Because He Delights In Me to check it out!
Monday, October 28, 2013
11 Free Things: The Poor College Kid's Resourse
Sometimes, when you've just made that giant tuition deposit, all your weekend plans go down the drain. When you're broke and tired of Netflix being the extent of your social life, grab a friend or two, and just go DO something. These are the favorites around here.
(P.S. Don't be afraid to try something new! You might miss out on so many of the good things in life. I'm not a huge frisbee person, but there have been some great memories made during late night, glow-in-the-dark games of Ultimate. It's up to you. With a good group of people, almost anything can be a great time. Mom was right - it's all about having the right attitude.)
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2. Open houses: Who knows? Bring a friend along and do a walk-through of a house you can only afford to drool over. Maybe there's a local art show. Google it. Read your city's news publication. It throws people off when a bunch of college hooligans are house shopping.
3. Open Mic nights: Even if you don't play music, open mics are a great way to get to know the community around you. Of course, it's ALWAYS more fun if you get up there at some point, if only to do a silly cover with a willing friend. Cameras out; this could be legendary.
4. Coffee shop concerts: Only slightly different from the open mic, this is the place to go is you just want to sit back with a drink (Water is free, tea is cheap, coffee is, well... Do what you must. But a frappe? Really? Budget suicide, friend. They add up quick.)
5. Make YouTube videos: There is really no limit to this. You can make short films, do a stupid how-to, start a vlog channel, anything. Do I have to spell it out? Use your imagination; you're a smart kid.
6. The local park:
- Frisbee
- Soccer
- Sports in general
- Borrow a dog
- Play on the kid toys (swings are the best)
- Picnic (with your parent's food and plasticware, preferably)
- Stargaze at night
- Have a good backyard? Set up an outdoor movie for your friends.
7. If you live on a lake:
- Boats, canoes, kyaks, paddle boats
- The blob
- Swimming
- Floating dock adventures
- Have a lakeside jam sesh
8. Conversations: Ummm... Talk to people. We know a lot less about our friends these days. We take Facebook posts at, well, face value. Are you sitting across from a friend right now? What would happen if you put away the iPad, closed the laptop, hid the smartphone? What would happen? Maybe you've meaning to catch up with an old friend. Call them up, message them, whatever, and just do it.
9. Be artsy-fartsy: Paint rocks. Doodle. Make art. Write stories or poems or blogs or songs. Start wood carving.
10. Learn a new skill: Things are often much simpler than we anticipate. Don't get stuck just because you think you will fail. Chances are, you'll be great, and if not, hopefully you had a good time. Some examples:
- Computer skills. Whether that be figuring out how to defrag your hard drive, mastering a 3D animation program like Blender (open-source and free) or an image editing tool like GIMP (open-source and free), enhancing your WPM, or getting down to it and building your own computer.
- Musical instruments. Granted, this is not always free, but surely you know someone with a guitar. Maybe you have an instrument of your own, but haven't sat down to master it.
- Be creative. What do you find yourself admiring in other people? Find that and go for it!
11. Window shopping: Leave your wallet at home, and commit an hour or so to hopeless coveting and materialism. Okay, that may not be the wisest thing. Perhaps if you go into it with a purpose - like finding the most ridiculous outfits at a clothing shop, and making your friends model them. All in the name of cheap entertainment, my friends.
WARNING: Imgur is a time eater! So is Vine, and Facebook, and YouTube, and you know your poison. Don't let technology get the best of your youth. Used responsibly, it is the greatest asset of our day and age; it can also be our biggest reason for missed opportunity. Think about how you use your time. Go better yourself.
That was a free tip. You're welcome ;)
Friday, September 06, 2013
Too Easily Satisfied
"I find that when I think I am asking God to forgive me I am often in reality…asking Him not to forgive me but to excuse me. But there is all the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing. Forgiveness says 'Yes, you have done this thing, but I accept your apology...' But excusing says 'I see that you couldn't help it or didn't mean it; you weren't really to blame.' ...And if we forget this, we shall go away imagining that we have repented and been forgiven when all that has really happened is that we have satisfied ourselves with our own excuses. They may be very bad excuses; we are all too easily satisfied about ourselves."
C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
My whole life, I thought I understood grace. But in my head, "grace" may have simply been my own self-imposed sense of personal justice. An explanation for my sin, rather than true repentance. A misplaced blame, rather than a confession of guilt. I wrap myself up in a lie that tells me I have nothing to be forgiven, because none of it was really my fault. How can I ever truly know grace, if this is the case?
I find myself, in the end, not satisfied enough. My understanding of grace will never satisfy. It's a mere bandage on the gaping wound of my sin, only healed by the true, holy, immeasurable power of His love and grace. He is all we need. His sacrifice is enough. That's the simple truth of it.
I find myself, in the end, not satisfied enough. My understanding of grace will never satisfy. It's a mere bandage on the gaping wound of my sin, only healed by the true, holy, immeasurable power of His love and grace. He is all we need. His sacrifice is enough. That's the simple truth of it.
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