Everyday Beautiful Stuff

Many people have told me over the years that I have pretty eyes.  I appreciate that compliment very much, but I have always wondered why I have that characteristic.  How did I get these eyes and why am I so lucky to have such nicely colored organs?

So people may refer to genetics to answer this question, but personally, I think that is too narrow a reason.  Besides, my explanation is much easier to understand.  I think that my eyes look the way they do because I have had the blessing of seeing so many beautiful things throughout my life.  The accumulation of such beautiful things over time has made a combined imprint on my eyeballs as they take it all in, producing a natural mosaic of beauty.

So, I want to share some of those beautiful things I have seen over the past month or so.

·         The noonday sun shimmering off dancing blades of grass in Keist Park.

·         The faces of loved friends looking down with care on my pathetic, broken body trapped in a hospital bed.

·         A squirrel repeatedly jumping onto the window screen at my apartment in a frantic attempt to come in and share some tea with me (I know this was his intention because I asked him).

·         The face of a 6^th grader when he has a mental breakthrough in understanding prime factors or the face of an eighth grader as she confidently describes a quadratic function.

·         The joy of an African refugee who gets to share his story and how real God has been in his life.

·         A warm, gooey homemade apple pie carefully crafted by the hands of newly made, but nonetheless good, friends.  And the subsequent eating of that pie.

·         A middle school five piece rock band jamming out for a roomful of screaming peers and satisfied parents.

·         The early spring sun rising up over houses and buildings to bring a peaceful new day to all the cars stuck in the traffic jam extending across the exit ramp between I45 and I30E.

·         The final victory screen in Mario Kart DS.

·         The passion and desire of a friend who desperately wants to cultivate a prayer life that will immerse him in the presence of God.

·         The majestic and wondrously painted inside of an Eastern Orthodox cathedral.

·         Picture texts from my sister of her (far too frequent) encounters with that privileged class of people who own the three wolf moon shirt.

·         The pristine orderliness and cleanliness of the green grass, flowing fountains, and stately trees on the SMU campus.

·         The messiness and dirtiness of the Wesley House after hosting a week of many wonderful fellowship opportunities.

·         A cloud that looked like sharp dinosaur claws closing in to secretly attack the science building.

·         The back of my eyelids during a much needed nap in the park through part of my lunch break.

·         The children that live in my apartment complex playing outside and the sidewalk chalk masterpieces they leave to make my walk out to the car so much more enjoyable.

·         A poem written by a 6^th grader in DISD hanging in the hall that was surprisingly good.

·         Encouraging, joyful updates from friends who are far away.

·         And, of course, many vivid and pastel, multi-colored, sunset painted skies that watch over the bustling city and draw the day to a close.

What I See

Today is April 22, and I have been 22 years old for 22 days. So, I have posted 22 pictures that I have taken over the past year that are among my favorites.  I realize that we all like to look at pictures more than we like to read words, so here are pictures.  I do not think I am a great photographer, but I think there is some great stuff to photograph - here is what I have found so far:

Also, in honor of Earth Day, all these pictures were taken on Earth. Happy Earth Day!

The Toast I Didn't Make Tonight

I would like to propose a toast.                                                                     

A toast to time.

The time we have had, and the time we haven’t.  The time we have embraced, the time we have been sucked into, the time we have rebelled against.

It seems it is almost impossible to not think of time at a time like this. A time of transition.  A time where we find ourselves on a kind of precipice, able to look more clearly behind and before us.  When we are rudely forced to think of time – the past, present and future.

For me, I am particularly past-phobic. I am terribly afraid of nostalgia.  And it has been happening more and more lately, as I look through facebook at pictures taken of me over the past several years, my stomach does that thing where it turns a little, and my heart faints a little as I think about all that has happened, how much I have grown, the people I have gotten to know. I think we all kind of get sucked into this allure of time past.

Then we drift to think about the future, we get sucked into trying to figure out the next 5, 10, 20, 40 years of our life this week on top of all the tests we need to study for, jobs to interview for, applications to fill out.  But it is just as nauseating to dwell so much on the future. 

We get sucked into the past or the future and it takes us captive.  I do not mean to say remembering or planning are inherently bad – in fact I would say they are good – it is just the extremes that are harmful (nostalgia and looking so far ahead that we miss the stones in place to get us to that new destination). So we become sucked in and venture through these bittersweet moments, lost in thought and feeling.  And time marches on.

So, we begin to rebel, right?  Maybe we decide to live in the present.  To not be too swayed by the past or the future and to not let any of these final opportunities or experiences pass us by.  But they are so flighty. They come and go before we know it.  And it is not quite so fulfilling to blindly stumble through life.

We have been trying our hardest to rebel against time for so long.  We stay up later than we should, stalling the sleep that will inevitably get us too quickly to the next morning.  We push back deadlines as far as we can.  We snooze alarm clocks. We develop mild apathy.  And we ignore the fact that this season of our lives is coming to an end. And we are left to question: what lasts?

As much as we try, as much as we fear, as much as we hope, we cannot free ourselves from time. 

It is this lament that I have found to be turned on its head in Psalm 103 (starting from v. 13).

As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;

for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.

As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field;

the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.

But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD'S love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children’s children—

with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.

The LORD has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all.

Praise the LORD, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word.

Praise the LORD, all his heavenly hosts, you his servants who do his will.

Praise the LORD, all his works everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the LORD, O my soul.

The limited time we have is a reality we can’t escape, but we have a hope within that of something even more real than that time to which we are bound.  God has given us time to flourish, to be with one another, to soak in His presence and trumpet His praise as the tulips and daisies and all other flowers of the field this season do so well.  And although that time is limited, it is truly precious.

So, I am thankful for time – for it being so full of your faces and smiles and laughs and for those of my future new friends.  I fondly remember all we have done and I look forward excitedly to the next step.

I embrace time – this transitory life, and I hope and trust that at least some measure of it is founded God’s everlasting love.

So, a toast to time – which by nature exalts God above all else – proving His love is truly everlasting and showing us as humble servants. 

A toast to time – which is graciously given to us that we may with all our being, more fully praise God and know His love.

Life or Can Beauty Last Forever?

Throughout middle school I was lucky to live very close to a friend of my same age.  Every day after school, my sister and I would hang out with this friend for hours on end.  There are, of course, drawbacks to the way I lived at this point in my life: I think it is one of the main reasons I am not a very good ‘gamer’ compared to the other males of my generation.  But I have come to more fully value these years of my life lately, especially the two or three hours after school each day. 

This friend of mine has a dad, on whom my dad, on my behalf, once bestowed the name ‘Lieutenant Larry’.  It’s just one of those things that you kind of appreciate happened, even if you don’t really remember why.  Anyway, Lieutenant Larry went through many unique hobbies during this time of our lives, and these hobbies never ceased to amaze me.  One particular hobby, which must have come at some point before our lives crossed, that sticks out to me is insect mounting, or at least collecting and decorating with cases of mounted insects.

In some parts of his house, there were cases of butterflies and other interesting insects, which were pinned down in pristine condition.  One of these was in the bathroom, directly over the toilet – so I saw it almost every day.

I did not think much about them then, but that has started to change recently.  The image of that box keeps popping into my mind.  Why do some people mount insects?  Mounting butterflies is particularly interesting to me.  Why would you pin down a dead butterfly in a box? 

To preserve its beauty?  For collection’s sake?  To use it as wall art?

And is it worth it?  Is it worth destroying the life of the creature so that its beauty may last forever?

That also makes me think of how we like to pin things down, and whether pinning down is really the best way to make beauty last forever.  Most of us, in one way or another, are even eager to pin down our own lives.  I mean this in the sense of: becoming still in the great movement of life and/or limiting our life. 

Sometimes we try to control everything within us.  We pin our lives down because we are not certain what may become of us in the future, and so we try to dictate all the small details of our lives.  We set up a barrier around ourselves that keeps us trapped inside – locked into what we think we are…or are not. 

It is also easy to become complacent and to not pursue the journey of life with all your might.  This could even come passively in the form of getting good enough at something and not allowing ourselves to grow or seek new experiences or answers - seeking to learn just enough instead of seeking to learn all there is to learn (or experience all there is to experience).  Will pinning ourselves down in this way really provide greater joy, greater freedom, more wondrous living?

Sometimes we try to control everything outside us.  We try to pin ourselves down so that we won’t be as exposed to the uncertainties and troubles of the world.  We set up a barrier around ourselves that keeps other stuff outside – the stuff that is dangerous or just different.  We are over-concerned about safety and self-containment, and in trying to preserve our life, we stifle it. 

Like if you tried to protect a candle from the wind and after too many close calls, eventually enclose it in a glass bowl.  The wind can no longer harm the flame, but before long it will be snuffed out due to lack of oxygen.

Will pinning down our lives really help us?  Will stilling ourselves or withdrawing from everything really allow the beauty of our lives to last longer? (Not that I think stillness and safety are inherently bad.)  Will that really ensure our longevity?

Think about some really delicious strawberries, or cake, or whatever makes you salivate.  You try one and it is the best you have ever tasted – sweet and succulent, so you want to make it last -  last forever, or as close to that as you can get.  So you put them in the refrigerator or freezer, right?  Put them away from harm, hunger, and heat to try to preserve them.  Maybe some inventor even invents a spray or something that will preserve food for years, so you buy that off an infomercial and use it.  But maybe you forget about them or just wait too long, because no matter what you do, strawberries (or any food) are not going to last forever.  They get moldy.  All the precautions you took to ensure they would last have actually led to their death – and a long drawn out one at that.

But, if you had just eaten them, they would live on in the energy they provided you.  They would have served their purpose.

Maybe the more we try to hold onto the status quo, the more we set up glass cases around our lives and try to pin them down in a box, the less alive we will be.  Something may be preserved, but is it really life?  Is it really beauty?

For me, the beauty of a butterfly is not necessarily the magnificent design on its wings.  Rather, it is the journey that the insect makes – a life of transformation and flight and freedom.  It is a beauty that can never be pinned down.

P.S. And no, I do not think we should “live like we’re dying” (sorry Kris Allen).  Time is not really a factor here.  It is merely a matter of fullness and meaning.  If anything, we should die like we’re living.

Death – A post of ironic significance

A lot of people are afraid of flying in airplanes.  I guess the fear is that it will stop working, fall out of the sky, crash on sea or land, and everyone will die.  I’d say that logic holds true if the initial action occurs, and given that most people know nothing of the inner workings of planes, I find it a perfectly rational thought that the plane you are sitting in could be your death-bed.  I am sorry to frighten anyone who has obsessive thoughts along these lines, but it is simply reasonable. 

In fact, every time I get on a plane I think about dying.  And I have ridden on a lot of planes lately.

I think this started as I was traveling to England last summer.  It was a long flight, and of all the flights I have ever been on, had the greatest chance of crashing given the sheer amount of time I was on it. 

But I have found this potential plane-crashing introspection to be ironically very empowering and uplifting.  I think that is because it has shown me that I am not afraid to die.

Maybe I am too young to say that with complete certainty, but I do anyway.  I am not afraid to die.  There are moments when that is not true, I guess, like when I was coming back from England that same trip and felt I had a lot of important things to say or put in practice that I had learned, but I got over that pretty quickly.  I realize that the world will go on just as well with or without me; God doesn’t need me for what He does (which makes it all the more amazing that He is willing to put up with me as I try to help).  And those few fearful moments gave me even greater insight into how important it is to live with no fear of death.

In fact, I would go so far as to say I fear nothing…except God. 

Fear (which I would subtly distinguish from ‘being afraid’) is a state created out of awe and reverence toward something.  It involves honoring something and treating it as holy.  It comes when we give exclusive importance to something that takes precedence over all else.  For instance, the fear of death puts complete importance on life – it is an expression of the reverence we develop toward our own being.  And when something threatens our life (i.e. death) we act in any way we can to preserve life, even if that means running into our darkened bedrooms and jumping 3 feet away from the bed so that no monster will reach out, grab us, and gobble us up for its midnight snack.

So, I fear God alone – maybe not perfectly, but I am trying my hardest.

I have found that I have no reason to fear death (or fear for life).  Paul has recently helped me understand why this happens and how it is important.  He says throughout Romans that through Christ we are dead to ourselves – our fleshy, sinful selves who put anything and everything (especially our own lives) before God. 

“Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?  Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.  We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed and we might no longer be enslaved to sin.  For whoever has died is freed from sin.  But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.  We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.  The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.  So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.”  Romans 6:3-11

We are united to Christ in His crucifixion – we die with Him in faith.  So, if I have already died to myself, what have I to fear in death?  And I have only to gain in life with Christ – a life in the Spirit that is found in resurrection only after death to self.  And this is a resurrection that has happened in Christ, and that is happening now!  I do not not fear death purely on the promise of eternal life in the future (although that is quite a bonus).  I do not fear death because of the present promise, the present covenant of Spirit-filled life that is offered only through death.

Paul talks a lot about death – in almost every letter of his in the Bible.  It is usually in the context of dying to our sinful nature so that we can truly be a new creation.  On my birthday, I thought it was important to reflect on such death, because only through it can I fully realize new life – true life.

“For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit.  To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace….But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you.  Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.  But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness…for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”  Romans 8:5-13

I am already dead!  How now can I fear death?  At least I am in a constant process of dying, for my fleshy nature found early on a way to ensure longevity (what it thought to be immortality) through a dark use of horcruxes.  (N.B. For non-Harry Potter fans, shame on you - at least watch the movies so that you can understand the reference)

But the good news is that Christ died in order to break the evil spell of the horcrux we have all submitted our lives to.  We can now truly die to ourselves and in doing so live in God’s Spirit!