tune from the east

beauty in the form of a song:

Foy Vance: Gabriel and the Vagabond

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4cjCuUQUwI

although it's been said, many times, many ways...

Highschool is an interesting time because so much of it is geared towards allowing students to grow and become equipped for the "real world"; there is so much planning and constructing of the curriculum and classroom to ensure that young men and women retain vital and useful information. Highschool was one of the most beneficial times in my life as far as learning and growing, but sometimes I must sit back, analyze, and laugh at what has stuck with me to this day. The actual teaching, I remember only selections of it, but the things that could not be planned: the intangibles, the moments, and the memories, have stuck with me and taught me an infinite amount of lessons.

However, one of the few things I remember well was an experiment I did many times in science class: titration tests. Now, granted, I barely remember the purpose of such an experiment other than the fact that I was looking for some sort of "breaking point" of a substance with another. Nonetheless, it was a tedious task: you would start with one substance, and, one drop at a time, would add another substance. With each drop, you would record if there had been any change. Now the frustrating part of this experiment is that, eventually, twenty or thirty drops in, the substance being added to would finally change colour: this exact drop was the mystery number each student was trying to discover. It always bothered me, being the impatient type, that the change, although gradual (in the realm of chemistry and science, a world I lack familiarity in), would only become visible to me within a single instance; that I could not escape dramatic change.

The past half year, in my life, has been one of dramatic change. For starters, I have gone from being a full time student (since the tender age of 5 years old), to being a full time employed worker; no longer do I worry about marks or grades, homework or exams. Instead, my time is now occupied by planning and running programs for children, social interactions with colleagues and parents, and raising money for every situation and scenario. Another change that has occurred is in the plans for my future; my "five year plan" has been significantly shaken and confused. Now, being in ministry, being single, and devoting most of my time in the city of Etobicoke, on the complete opposite side of Toronto I thought I'd be, the future has become something of uncertainty, unknowingness, and frazzled excitement. On top of all this, the nature of many of my friendships, relationships, and interactions with both people and places around me have changed; a natural transformation which can be described, neither as good nor bad but rather, as different.

And now December is here, and Christmas is only a couple days away; the question I must ask is "what has changed?". Sure, it has been a gradual progression, but this year seems to draw some significant differences, or changes in my mood and manner. As a child, Christmas meant everything to me: the gifts, the joy of making and consuming Christmas cookies, the excitement of having family come over every Christmas for a complete day of fun. Christmas movies and music defined the season, and even while I have never enjoyed shopping, experiencing the Christmas cheer in malls became a pleasant routine. Even the Christmas Eve service at my church: sure, the message was a bit dry and the songs were split into three languages, only one of which I knew, there was something magical about the night; something exciting, something joyful.

So what has changed? As much as I hate to admit it, it may be that I am growing up; getting older. The malls now sometimes make me feel lost: the busyness of people who have no intention to grasp the "christmas spirit", and the overwhelming joys of consumerism and materialism have made malls a place I tend to steer away from. Our Christmas day traditions, although still great, have become shorter and quieter. No longer are there the laughter and joys of children playing, as myself and all my cousins have all grown up. I used to have so much energy every year, but in the past couple December 25th, I find myself taking a nap in the afternoon due to exhaustion. I used to also bank on the fact that Christmas was a time of universal peace and joy; that whether you were religious or not, believing or unbelieving, Christmas was a time when humanity drew together as one. But the less ignorant I become and the more I see the world, I realize that this is not true. There is still suffering, there is still pain and sorrow (sometimes even more so during the holidays), in the season of "joy to the world". Christmas, sadly, can sometimes become a mask for many that keeps our lives and our outlook of the world peaceful, simple, and safe.

While this may seem extremely depressing, this is not my intent. Christmas is still happy; it is still something of beauty and joy. But we change; we as humans change; and along with this change, so our thoughts, ideas, and perspectives follow. Does this mean Christmas changes as well? While we all hope to instil the anxious child in us, waiting for Santa Clause to arrive, we eventually cannot deny the fact that this child has grown up. Is it for the kids, not yet tainted? Do we go through the rituals, go through the stories every year, to give our younger generation their fair share?

In the season of Christmas, things change. Our traditions and our memories become lost, or at the very best, altered. Similarly, our moods and feelings are so fleeting. Even the story of Christmas and of Christ's birth, it is something we, as humans, have become so accustomed to: a "holy" story made for a "holy" occasion; I mean, isn't it that much more comforting and relieving to reflect on the manger, baby Jesus, as we sit by a Christmas tree and drink egg nog? No offence to anyone, but isn't it harder to reflect on the peaceful setting of Christ's arrival in Bethlehem in July? The story of Christ's birth is not something new; similarly it's not a new idea that we try to keep the "Christ" in "Christmas; in fact it's so familiar and so popular, that it has become a ploy of the media and the world.

But, I think the answer, one I've been learning in the last couple days, is from Luke 2: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favour rests". Christmas time is not as much about remembering the gift of Jesus, but reflecting on the everlasting and constant promises we claim as God's people. The gift of Jesus, His birth and descending onto the earth is not an isolated event, nor is His life, birth, ministry, death, and resurrection, an isolated collection of event. Rather, it is part of the grand story of Luke 2: the story of earth, where lies men, whom God's favour, for some illogical and unknown reason, rests.

In an ever changing season, a time that becomes new and old with every year, what do we hold on to? What remains consistent? It's not the sounds and sights, it's not the memories and traditions. I am learning that what remains consistent is the ongoing story of God's love for humanity: the one that did not begin in the manger, and the one that certainty does not end at the cross. Don't get me wrong, the birth of Jesus is something to be praised; it is something to help us remember and remind us of the gift of our salvation. I am not saying that the story of the manger, or even the celebration of Christmas and the holidays is something we should ignore or belittle. I love Christmas, both the story of Christ coming and the celebration of the season, but these things are subsets, they are results of God's everlasting promise of love for humanity. Let us not forget that "peace on earth and goodwill to men" is not a result of December 25th, but a banner on which we, both believers and non-believers, all live under everyday.

discouragement versus encouragement

What is a leader? More specifically, what makes a good leader? I think it's safe to say that different groups of people require different leaders. An office team that is constantly trying to make deadlines needs a leader who is assertive and direct; there are no time for emotions and hurt feelings. The leader of a church, I often find, is one who is wise and trust-worthy; he or she is someone who empowers their congregation and leads them by example. On sports teams, a leader or captain is often the person that can motivate the team; one who pushes and challenges the group by mentoring players, giving them pep talks, or simply gets them going by playing harder.

Every since I have moved into my new role as a site supervisor for children with UrbanPromise Toronto (urbanpromise.com), I have been learning, sometimes slowly and sometimes quickly, what it means to be a good leader. Now, in my role, a good leader needs to embody several traits. Working with children, he has to be both sensitive and firm in his interaction with each one of them. Almost every child I've worked with does not respond well to yelling or harsh verbalization, and of course, because of this, effective changes in behaviours are not usually achieved in this way. At the same time, children lose focus quickly and often forget how they should act and why they should do so; this is when an effective leader needs to be firm. Sensitivity only gets you so far, especially if a child refuses to hold your hand and, at any moment, can run into a street with oncoming traffic. Another very important trait for a leader to have in my role is the ability to plan ahead, stay organized, and make decisions. Working with children, nothing is ever clean-cut, and it almost never plays by the book; children's moods change in an instance, and at any given time, one of them will need to go pee (and difficulties lie when "holding it" is not necessarily a skill-set they have learnt). Yet, at the same time, children need structure; without it they go crazy; and to always be 10 steps ahead of them is of the utmost importance.

Being blessed with free tickets for my entire camp (20 kids, 15, however, actually showed up) to the Toronto Marlies Game (for those that do not know, Toronto Maple Leafs Farm Team), all of Camp Victory, my leaders, and myself, travelled downtown to watch live. Now, this being my first full-camp field trip, with myself as the head leader and main point of contact, I, needless to say, learnt a great deal. Today was one of those days where, to simply put it, being a leader was hard. After we got back to the church and got all the kids home, I sat in the office slumped in my chair at the complete maximum of exhaustion. While I sat there, I could not help but think of all the discouragements I felt throughout the day. Here are some of them:

• I had hoped to get to the meeting spot an hour earlier than the kids so that I could print off information to give to my leaders (ie: kids contact information and emergency numbers). I also wanted to prepare first aid kits and buy extra bus tickets just in case any of my kids did not bring fare for the TTC. Unfortunately, I had a hard time sleeping the night before and woke up late, rushing to the church only half an hour before to get all this done. A very stressful way to start the day.
• A child who has been having problems listening at camp was dropped off by his mom for the trip. Despite knowing that he would be a handful and would need the complete devotion of a leader to stay with him at all times (a luxury we cannot really fulfill), I eventually conceded with his mom and took him on the trip. Because he is a hard kid to deal with, I decided that I was going to be that leader that spent the whole time with him. Not only did it make me completely exhausted, playing the role of his parent, friend, discipliner, entertainer, and comforter, but it also made it a lot harder for me to oversee all the kids and leaders.
• Today involved a lot of waiting and patience: a virtue most children do not have. Our commute was from Kipling and Finch, to Finch Station, subway to Union Station and streetcar to Exhibition Place...and when it was all over, go back. In total, this trip took us about 4 hours (2 hours each way) + a 3 hour game (this does not include all the extra random "waiting" times). On top of this, when we got to the arena, there was a mix-up, and the 2nd group that was joining us, who also had all the tickets, came late. This meant the children had to wait an extra half hour outside of the arena. Now when working with little kids, the last thing you want to do is have "dead time" in which there is nothing for the kids to do and the space which they can move in is extremely limited. During a lot of the trip, many of my kids grew restless and bored, and were not afraid to show it through their actions. Naturally this seemed to reflect poor organizing and planning on my part.
• Throughout the day, I constantly felt like I was doing a poor job as a leader. One example of this is when we were in the bus and my kids, being restless, were starting to get a bit loud. One person in the bus turned around and announced to me in a rather belittling way that these children do not have to be this loud, and that he had 3 kids at home who had much better manners.
• The Marlies lost 3-1.

But as I sat there longer I questioned if the whole day really was a complete failure. I questioned if anything actually good happened today and if it was really rational to count this day as a loss. Here are some positive encouraging things that came to mind:

• Many of our kids are not exposed to many new things. They do not leave their community much and do not often get the opportunity to explore the various parts of their city while being supervised by trained and responsible adults. One of my kids informed me today that she had never been downtown in her entire life. On top of this, with hockey being such a big part of Toronto, free tickets to a live game are nearly impossible to get. The fact that the kids got to see a live hockey game in one of the most lively parts of Toronto, an opportunity they will probably never get again, is pretty awesome.
• The kids loved the game, all for different reasons. Some were very engaged in the actual game itself, others just liked chanting "Lets go Marlies!" at the top of their lungs. A bunch of the kids made their way down to meet the cheerleaders and basically ambushed them all asking for autographs on their flags (which they got for free), hands, and some, even shoes. As if our 50 free tickets to the game was not enough, almost every kid loved when they discovered that one of the concession stands was giving away free hot dogs; once the word got out to my girls and boys, another ambush occurred, this time on the hot dog lady. After the game, another stand we found was giving out free pizza...the children, still excited and happy to take it, ambushed lighter (probably because they were all so full from the hot dogs). Either way, what an experience for them: again something new, but also just the mere feeling of being blessed with so many things.
• The kid who had been having difficulties, and that I spent my time with today, warmed up to me throughout the day. Usually this child does not speak to most leaders and is not willing to engage anyone in conversation; almost as if he is in his own “5 year old world”. But sitting with him everywhere and holding his hand anytime we walked, he eventually began to trust me, seeing me as someone who cared and loved him. I gave him my camera on the bus and during the game and he loved to take pictures and show them to me. He also cried and did not want me to go when I had to leave the group to check on the tickets, asking him to stay with one of the other leaders.
• Many of the leaders that I lead are new to this job (and some even new to the country, being missionaries from Germany) and new to their responsibilities with the children. Although there were a couple things that could have been improved, overall, as a team, we worked pretty well together. Given the context of the trip, all in all, each leader worked hard and was able to take care of the children they were responsible for. To add to that, being on the bus and train with them for so long, they were also able to connect with the kids and develop deeper relationships with them individually.

What I have been realizing is that we, as human beings, allow our vision to so easily be clouded by the negatives and discouragements in our lives. We go through life pondering how we can improve, things we wish were different, and mulling over the mistakes we have made in the past. It is almost as if all the things that are going wrong in our lives contaminate our whole being, and the fact of this simple impurity is enough to define the answer to the question we are always asked: “how are you doing?”.

Yet I think often times we overlook all the good things which occur in our lives. Of course it is not always the case, and sometimes there are a lot of things just not going well for us. But it is important to note that it is in our nature to focus and zone in on the negative, and I question how many good things, truly positive and encouraging things in our daily living, we overlook or disregard because we are so focused on the “bad”. Today, I realized that, sure, things were tough and at times I felt like I was going to break down and fall apart. But all in all, when I think of what we accomplished today; all the things are going to matter and mean something to myself, my leaders, and most importantly, my children 10 years down the road; it is hard to stay discouraged and bummed out.

And maybe that’s what it means to be a good leader: a person that can take all the discouragement, all the struggles, all the pain and failures and mistakes; a person that can take all those things, bundle them, and put them to the side. A person that doesn’t throw those away or completely disregard them, but does not let them get in the way of all the good things that are going on as well. A good leader, maybe, is someone who acknowledges the negative, but does not lose his or her footing by holding on to the positive. Maybe that good leader is one who realizes that it is the positive that stabilizes their motivation to keep going, dispelling all the day-to-day discouragements he or she may encounter.

Yes, one of the discouragements today was that the Marlies lost 3-1. The Maple Leafs, however, are on a hot streak, which to me suggest that the encouragement is that Brian Burke and Ron Wilson picked the right people for the Leafs, and dumped the wrong people with the Marlies.

wake up

I heard on the radio that women are more likely than men to awake from their sleep from the cry of a baby, regardless if they are a mother or not. This is due to women's innate nurturing and caring nature. Men, on the other hand, are more likely to awake from things like a howling wind, car alarm, or anything that could be perceived as a threat to the entire family.

I think this is perfect in explaining the beauty of both gender identities and roles.

its like there's a struggle between the good and the bad

the devil trying to hold at me and keep me under wraps

but there's a light resurrecting in my soul like fire

open eyes, fallen knees, ain't no time for liars

it's like these lyrics flow out of my soul like water

a testimony to the lowest of all his sons and daughters

i hear these rappers all around and they bother me

its like people ain't hearing music properly

and the truth is being shared akwardly

cuz the world don't understand what it ought to be

so i'm trying to comprehend what I seem to see

with the simple vision given by God in me

you see,

i don't want to be ignorant, but i've got some proof

like how the media corrupts and distorts our youth

it's like they teach the kids how abandon their mind

and they replace the intellectual with a catchy line

its funny, cuz music is like a transport into the soul

and im not one to criticize that i dont know

but i know, at least, that it's all getting old

and that a lot of these artists seem to have sold

out, its like i gotta beat driving my mind

one after another, the lyrics come out line by line

still new, but im messin around with rhymes

understanding that transcends culture throughout time

cuz im trying to be humble, cuz I gotta lot to learn

but God is tellin me to use music so that I can discern

and speak a message to the world, and to those around

who have ears but have chosen to mute out the sound

so I'm speaking to their hearts like they've never heard

speaking life to the lost who have never read the word

see the word became flesh, while we were still deaf

had a pathway to heaven, but went right not left

so what's my job, nah it ain't conversion still,

simply to show people that the path is still available

you see we're looking for life and truth in all the wrong places

we can be a mighty king, yet still struggle like David

we stumble all the time, ill be the first to admit

im being raised everyday, yet I fall and slip

but the fact is that the message overcomes the odds

that we're loved and treasured by the God above

so the message aint new, you probably heard it before

like the stacks of magazines at a grocery store

you've been flooded by the devil trying to sell Christ to you

like the preachers preaching garbage all over youtube

take a second, close your eyes, you know theres really more to it

you can see all the crap, let your mind see through it

and listen to the word Hes tryin'a speak to your soul

ill relate it equally to the young and the old

Cuz we're not talking about gospel music

just the truth cuz we can't get used to it

a beautiful letdown

(June 8, 2010; something I wrote in Switzerland)

Travelling around Europe for the past 3 weeks, I have seen so much, have been in so many places and moments, that have forced me to be completely and utterly struck with awe. The sorrow, scared-ness, and sanctuary of standing in one of the gas chambers at the Auschwitz-Birkenau Concentration Camp; standing under the Eiffel Tower as it lit the Parisian sky; in a sea of patriotic Germans celebrating the victory of their football club, beer everywhere and undignified joy at its greatest.

It is hard for me to describe these moments in any other way than beautiful. As I write this I am 3571 metres high on the highest point in Europe: Junfraujoch in Interlaken, Switzerland. As I simply just look out at the glaciers, endless mountains, and a blue sky that marks the border between heaven and earth, I cannot help but assume that I am in a moment of beauty. The mountains, so untouched and so untamed, contrast the busy schedule and rushed appointments of living in a big city like Toronto. It is truly amazing; I keep thinking to myself, how could something like this exist right in the middle of our busy world; how can something this beautiful be so completely hidden to the majority of people in the world.

I took out my Bible and flipped to Psalms expecting that God was going to give me some verse about his beauty or something on the power of his might and creation. Yet this is what He revealed to me: "O LORD, what is man that you care for him, the son of man that you think of him" (Psalms 144:3-4). Of all the beautiful things in the world, of all the astonishing things in His creation, people sure are a big disappointment; a beautiful letdown. We exist so far from our intended purpose, the most sacred things about us have become so vulgar, we refuse to coexist with creation and with each other because even though we were designed for community and communion, we have become a selfish breed.

So the question King David asks still boggles my mind. Who are we that you care for us, that you even think or consider us? Who am I that He finds me more beautiful than the scenery before my very eyes? To claim myself as his greatest and most treasured creation, in my head, would be sheer and utter blasphemy.

Yet, He is the one that says it, the one that treasures me; it doesn't make sense but no matter how much I try to convince Him of this, He refuses to listen. I can look out at these mountains and admit I do not know anything about them except that they are visually and emotionally pleasing. But God knows everything about me: all the dirt, all the bad thoughts I've had, the sinful things I've done, and yet He claims with confidence that I am beautiful.

Sitting at the top of Europe, over 3500 metres in the air, I can say with confidence that I know what beauty is. I can honestly say that right here, right now, I am in the midst of beauty. In this moment, I am learning what beauty is. Yet, I am realizing even more that my perception and understanding of beauty is just a small glimpse, a minute fraction, of God's definition of beauty. I know that for Him to call me beautiful, more beautiful than this moment, He is either completely out of His mind, or is working under a whole other conceptualization of beauty; one that is so far from making sense to me.

all the things we miss

It is amazing how the simple, almost spontaneous, decisions we make on a day to day basis either allow us to encounter the sweetest, most heart-whelming experiences, or miss them all completely.

Today at camp, myself and a couple leaders took all the boys to the basketball courts, about a 5 minute walk from camp, so they could get some fresh air and drain their energy. We were there for about an hour, and needless to say, the boys were going wild...sometimes good, sometimes bad. Either way, it was pretty clear, they were having fun.

At one point while we were playing, one of the 7-year-old boys who I had just met that day, informed me that he had to go to the washroom. At first, thinking it was a simple task, I asked him if he minded using a tree (since the nearest washroom was not that close, and we needed all the staff we had at the courts). He didn't mind. After about a minute, I checked to see where he was. He was standing just outside the courts staring out into the grass and trees, but showing no sign that he was ready to interact with nature. I went over and asked him what was wrong, and he informed me that he had to go #2. Right away I knew the trek to the washroom may be worth it after all. I asked him if he could hold it until we got to the church; he modestly affirmed.

Not knowing the boy too well, I was able to have a nice conversation with him as we walked back. It's always nice to know that while all human beings generally like to be loved and talked to, children are usually not afraid to initiate and reciprocate this (as opposed to adults who generally play it safe at first). The whole time I could not help but think, "one day, I hope this kid becomes a leader in this community".

As we got to the church doors, which are always locked, we rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open it for us. Understandably, this took awhile as camp was still going on on the inside with the girls. As we waited, I asked my new buddy if he was doing okay. Quite possibly the saddest thing one can hear was found in his response: "it's too late". Now with kids, you can never really be sure how much of a story or answer is exaggerated or just, to be blunt, made up. But after a bit of questioning, I started to come to the realization that he was in no state nor leverage to be lying. Finally someone opened the door and we made our way to the washroom.

As I stood outside the doors of the washroom while he "finished what he started", I waited for him. From time to time, I would ask him how he was doing, only to get a response sadder than the next. Let's just say I derived from his answers and descriptions of what was going down, it was a messy situation. Not scared or sad, but probably moreso out of embarrassment or just plain uncomfortableness, he politely asked me if I could call his mom and ask if she could pick him up. It is completely understandable...children can be the worst bullies, and this week seemed to have a "you smell like cheese" mentality. After talking with his mom, who was unable to pick him up due to work, we realized that he had an extra pair of shorts with him. After little convincing, he agreed that he could clean himself up and change into his spare shorts.

When he was all done, he came out and I asked him if he and the washroom were both clean. While he was clean, he admitted that as far as the washroom went, he tried his best. While he knew it was his responsibility, he also knew it was not something he was excited to come to camp for that morning. Without much thought and much deliberation, I offered to go in and help him. While he was grateful, he kept informing me that it was not something I probably want to see. As we walked back to the washroom, I had a good 20 second conversation with him about how stuff like this happens to the best of us.

As we got in, sure there was some cleaning to do and it was not as bad as he described, my buddy and I started to work. During that time, I was reminded of a similar experience that took place 6 years ago in the same washroom with myself, my friend from church, and a missing perpetrator. Nonetheless, my new buddy and I had a good chat while we got friendly with the floors. Teaching him basic things like layering your paper towel in case it rips, and why we should get in the habit of thanking custodians, I can honestly say it was the most enjoyable time and conversation I've had at camp in the past two days. He was cute, honest, and simply just happy to be wiping poo off the men's washroom floor with me...and so was I.

After we were all done, I walked with him back to the cubby area so he could put his bag away. Just as he was telling me how horrible he felt, I accidentally ran my forehead right into a metal bar against the wall. As much as it hurt, it was even more funny for the two of us to laugh about. As he put it, "now we both feel horrible!".

When I reflect back on this story, it is interesting to think of how many chances I had throughout that half hour period to make decisions that would either allow me to get to know him better or not. Most obviously, it is pretty straight forward in my mind how I could have just as easily told him to clean the washroom himself; I mean after all, its not my mess, and it's certainly not my job to be cleaning toilets. Yet at that moment, it seemed like there was something blocking my ability to reason; a little voice that just carelessly spoke on behalf of my brain. But I am glad that it intercepted the signal to my brain, the signal telling me that cleaning poo does not equal fun, because I was able to share a funny but memorable moment with my new friend.

And really that is what is so interesting about it: our desire to jump at opportunities regardless of the crap (sometimes literally) that stands in between. It makes me think how many opportunities, great opportunities, we miss in life, on a day to day basis, just because something so minor is in the way. I do not even think it's necessarily about making the right decisions, rather I think it is about having the intentional mindset to seize opportunities...from there, the decisions are made spontaneously. If we are so focused on the end, the goal, then the means and how we arrive at it, no matter how disgusting or unappealing it is to you, will be seen as a blessing.

A couple minutes later when everyone came back to camp, and we started work on their talent show for the community, my buddy came up to me and asked me if I wanted to join him in his group. It's fun to make new friends.

what makes us great

the father of stability

one thing i constantly ask for is peace

cuz i know that from time to time i cant see clearly

it gets harder and harder to see your love for me

gradually

still you open my eyes, teach me humility

teach me how to be free

so im thinking i gotta learn to pursue

to redefine the definition of communion with you

learning to live without lack of proof

some may call it the faith of a fool

sometimes i feel like that fool too

its crazy how the devil keep bringing me down

keeps me forgetting that im already found

or maybe showing me that my safe is not what its cracked up to be

should be sitting beside the throne, but the devil he got me on my knees

making me plea

making me bleed

making me think my soul aint free

nah, man, thats not the definition of me

i feel you speaking into my life, into my soul

speaking and saying you paid my toll

and you are trying to show me your love everyday

trying to show me you love the sinners, the sick, the poor, and the gay

because thats who i am, ive whored myself to the world

you aint a merciless God, you aint gonna hurl

its the strange thing about grace you give to me

its like im in the middle of war and you are offering me peace

i dont really know what to do with it

its like my heart or my feelings dont know how to deal with it

its like i got the answer, but my mind is still looking for conflict

so i say agian that this is the way i gotta pray

its like my brain is spilling cuz i opened it with a blade

and put it on a page

like my heart is on fire and it blaze

truth be told i feel it all the time

the need to reciprocate and open my mind

to release the demons that haunt my body

to be real with myself honestly

its been so long since i have met you here

its like ive stopped in the headlights like a deer

cuz youre forcing me to look into the mirror

i cant run, you are always near

so i stay clear

try to run from there

take the wheel and steer

away from here

then i hit the wall

my brakes stall

i stumble, i fall

and then i hear the call

its saying come back to me

its begging me, its saying please

its on its knees, hear the plea

saying you are only found full in me

you are only found great in thee

Lord help me to remember this daily

help me not to live this life safely

only walking in the truth; its not always the easiest path to take

Lord trust me, sometimes its something i really hate

but its what it takes

to understand what makes you, what makes me, truly great

its the closest we got to divinity until we see you face to face.

growing up

As it is with all growing, maturing, puberty driven boys, grade 6-8 can be a rough time of trying to figure out who you are and what life is all about. Naturally, during this age, what other people think of you is high on your priority list, and its funny how one can look back and see all the silly and stupid things he or she did just to fit in.

All my life, I have been that guy that has had a teddy bear. I am not sure what it is, whether it is a mere comforting item, or if it serves more so as a good old reliable friend that I can count on...not sure what it is, but I like sleeping with a teddy bear. When I was younger, friends used to come over quite often, and my first and foremost priority was to make sure they did not know I slept with a teddy bear. Closet, under the extra comforter: it was my standard hiding place for it. My teddy bear was something so essential to who I was; there was an incredible intimacy that it represented. Yet, it was so far removed from the identity I defined myself through.

In the same time as my "teddy bear censorship" part of life, another thing I hated was going to the mall with my mom. Whether it be a boy's quest to achieve manhood, or the sheer negative conitations that came along with going shopping with your mommy, all I knew was that cool guys 1. did not sleep with a teddy bear and 2. did not shop with their moms. During this time, I was also too young to stay at home (according to my parents..and if you know me well, know that I had a certain phobia with being home alone for several years), so if my mom went somewhere, chances are I had no other choice but to accompany.

See the thing about malls is that they are the perfect setting to hold multiple sub-cultures and generations. Certain stores allow for certain people to feel in their own element; certain coffee shops provide certain people the proper setting for them to work or chat with a friend over a drink. Old people like to walk together, middle aged men and women like to look at things. Teens, from my experience, like to "chill". Usually in some sort of sitting area, you can often find a group of teens just "chilling". Most of the time, there is one guy, often with a Justin Bieber sort of vibe to him, with his arm around his significant-other-Miley-Cyrus girlfriend. You may also find the other guy, in some sort of cool pose...perhaps with one foot proped up on a bench, similar to a modern day Michaelangalo's "Thinking Man". The mall was a place you went to "chill".

See when you go shopping with your mom, you are stuck in a conundrum. Because, as a teen, your job in a mall is to chill. Moms, on the other hand, do not chill at malls. Furthermore, even if your mom was hip like that, the last thing a teenage boy wants to do is chill with their mom at the mall. Needless to say, going to the mall with my mom was something I dreaded the most because I feared what people would think of me. Perhaps people would get the impression that I had nothing else better to do, or, worse, that deep down, I was a momma's boy, and all the playground cred that I worked so hard to develop at school really held no validity in the real world. Going to the mall with my mom, all I ever wanted to do was leave as soon as possible in fear that someone would see me. Trust me, from first hand experience, it is hard to act cool in front of your friends when you are with your mom in the ladies department. Ive pulled it off before, but my friends were only so gullible.

Junior High was one of the worst times for me as far as trying to fit in, trying to be cool, and trying to maintain some sort of image that I believed would impress others.

In my first year at Queen's, your residence room is open to the rest of your floor, 30 some odd strangers. Your bed is the open chair for whoever, at any time. There is no privacy, not even if you just came out of the shower, and all you have on is a towel. For me, there was no place to hide my teddy bear, it remained on my bed at all times. And guess what, you realize that people do not care. That people do not care if you sleep with one or not (if anything, girls find it cute).

Two days ago, I went to the mall with my mom; the very same one that all my friends used to go to, the one I hated to be seen at in the wrong context. Not once was I scared that people would see me; not once did I try to avoid certain places that might make me more vulnerable. We ate lunch in the middle of the food court, not too far from the highschool students that were there on their lunch break. As we were leaving, we bought a 7lb lobster from the supermarket: it made me quite happy. I left the mall that day in the positive.

You look back and you realize that junior high was so long ago, that stuff like that merely does not phase you anymore. You realize that the things that consumed your life, the people that you feared the most, really do not hold any leverage on you anymore.

I wonder how many people out there today still deal with these problems. The girl who spends hours in front of the mirror before she goes out into the public, the guy who hits the gym day in and day out just so people do not think of him as scrawny anymore. Sure, we have insecurities, and sure we may not fit the mould of what we think the world wants, or what we think other people desire of us, but at the end of the day, how much of it really matters?

What I think the world needs more of are people that just dont mind being themselves. It is too easy to see people submitting to fashion, to expectations, to standards. Hey, if you like fashion, do it; if you want to be jacked, go for it. Im not saying don't do what you want to do, all I am saying is do it because you want to do it. Dont spend your whole life living for the approval of someone or something because in the end, best case scenario you gain their approval, they will quickly realize you are a sham and everything you are was simply an act. It is funny how we deal so much with insecurities, and yet the most secure thing we know is ourselves. It takes a courageous person to be themselves; it takes a bold person to stay true to who they are, knowing that the people that respect and care for them do so because they love the person he or she is. It takes a grounded individual to experience love in its most truest and sincere form.

Sure, I can still hide my teddy bear when people come over, but junior high was so long ago...

prayers of the lowly

Here you see, there you go

Another time in the flow

Open my eyes from time to time, and yet

Still I retreat to the shadow of death

But then it comes, one, twice, again

The darkest questions forced upon men

Hit me everytime I try to move forward

And I understand that the pieces aren’t in order

And its funny because the heart is being tugged at

But the brain is the only thing working at the end of the aftermath

And I cry to my heart and my soul to contemplate whats going on

And wonder why its missing, the very thing that I long

As if my life switch aint turned on

Or that its being drowned out by a much louder song

So I retreat into the dark night, into the quiet of the noise

Occupy myself with these material toys

While you wait for me, and I try to long for you

Man, I keep trying, but this song aint new

I cant exactly figure out what you say when this relationship takes two

Or perhaps its because im sitting on a throne made of fools

I worry too much, as if there are answers waiting for me

I understand the vision, but I don’t really know how to see

My eyes, they are old, my brain seems to be working less and less

And sometimes I feel like my soul has digressed

I thought that if I long for you, you’d answer

Appreciate our distance as righteous anger

And come down and reveal yourself to me

And release me from these bars, letting me free

And yet I acknowledge what I need

And wait to be free

And I look around, and I cant seem to see

The presence of a saviour, or even a comforter

Or even just the hand of a brother

Or maybe Im too scared to ask

That its waiting for me and I choose not to climb the raft

Maybe theres something happening where im not taking the next step

That im looking for it in the right, when I should be exploring the left

Maybe im deaf

Maybe im drowning in my other problems, at best

But you favour perseverance

You say that if I have you, I don’t even need my hearing

Because you penetrate my soul when I am unaware

You exist and believe in me when I don’t care

Theres something present about you when Im not even there

Or when I don’t seem to be aware

So ill say it again and again

Even though I know I could be doing so much more

The first step is asking

It’s the acknowledgement that’s going to start the happening

So ill ask again, each and every night

Penetrate my life.

insight from a friend

"God calls you to the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet"

love, sex, the whole damn thing...

Sexuality has always existed, and yet, at the same time, it has not. While we cannot deny that people have had sexual orientations, preferences, and desires since the dawn of time, my almost complete undergraduate history degree has taught me that "sexuality", as we think of it today, has not always existed.

In the late 19th Century, North America saw the arrival of a group of scientists, theorists, and intellectuals who called themselves the Sexologists. Now, as the name suggests, you would think that this would be some sort of Justice-League style group of superheroes that save the world (or give the world..whatever your preference may be) of sexuality. While they may have done something along those lines, they did something far more interesting. Sexologists began to coin terms such as homosexual and heterosexual, grouping individuals within society into these categorical bins. Joe was a homosexual, Jane was a heterosexual, Bill was a transvestite, Mark was scientifically concluded to be "the other".

Now before this, sexuality did not really exist; or it did not exist in the same manner. Although sexuality existed in the sense that it was real, it was not a defining factor of who one was. Nonetheless, as the Sexologists stepped on the scene, individuals were given new identities; core identities; which were ultimately marked by their sexuality.

It was not until the 1990s that a strong and collective movement was able to fight back this idea. Those that adopted "Queer Theory" acknowledged that while sexuality did exist naturally, its categories were social constructions. These constructions often were linked and influenced by concepts of power, authority, and control within society, and usually did not stand for what they actually were said to represent. These Queer Theorists promoted the idea that sexuality was a position, but not an ultimate and full marker of who one was at his or her core. While the Sexologists suggested that sexuality was static; that which could not be changed; Queer Theorists offered the counter that sexuality was in fact fluid; malleable, replaceable, and changing.

Many people, in my view, have fallen into the "sexologists trap", and may I suggest that we have a much to learn from the Queer Theorists (although hardcore Christians may have to adopt a new title...after all, aren't we against queers?).

The Westboro Baptist Church (www.godhatesfags.com) is a good place to start. The WBC, started by Pastor Fred Phelps, is located in Kansas, and is a self-proclaimed "Old School Baptist Church". What does that mean? Well, it means that they believe that they are one of the few churches left who follow the Bible according to scripture. More important to this topic is that they believe that it is their responsibility to preach to the world, as they say scripture professes, hate for individuals who support things like abortion, publicized sexuality, and homosexual rights. They are well known for their protests and demonstrations at american soldiers' funerals, proclaiming their message that men like these are dying as punishment for the United States' acceptance of homosexual rights. This goes nicely with their "GOD HATES FAGS" and "AIDS CURE FAGS" signs, which they happily hold.

Now why do I mention them? Although I do not known anyone personally that 1. believes what they are doing is right, and 2. has taken their faith into such a ridiculous extreme, I believe that there is still a message we can learn from them. While we may not be "the most hated family in the world", we, like the sexologists and the WBC, as people sometimes get into the habit of categorizing people instead of seeing them as individuals in and of themselves. Psychology has taught me that as humans, we tend to groups similar things together, well, because we have poor memories and believe that shortcuts (or quick triggers) help us be more efficient (while many Starcraft players nod in agreement). Sure this makes sense for lists, items, and maybe even plants. But for people?

Why is it that I can list 3 names: Lance Bass, Freddy Mercury, and Elton John, and all we can think of is one word (musicians?). But it goes beyond sexuality. It appears in the office place, on campus, within our classes, or even the food court. We love to stigmatize the individual; we love to categorize the independent.

What made Jesus an interesting character is that he saw people for who they were. In my readings of the gospel, it seems quite clear that Jesus looked past identities that society had placed on people, groups that individuals willingly or unwillingly were part of, and looked at the person right at the core of who they were. In one instance, he eats dinner with the poor-moraled thief Zaccheus, and in another, chills by a well for an afternoon with the whore of the community. The only one who, in my opinion, had a right to lay judgement onto those around him, simply didn't. Maybe, one may argue, he couldn't; because all he could see was an innocent and beautiful individual beneath all the layers.

Whether you believe in a God or not, it doesn't matter; there is a lesson to be learned. If we as humans started to see people beyond the categories society has placed them in, beyond the peripheral identities that define them, and into the core of who they were, the world would be a different place. For one, it would be a whole lot easier to love people. We love the idea of world peace and although hippies are few these days, many still believe in the banner that "love is all you need". If we started to see people for who they were, I believe that we will be able to find something good within them; something that is lovable about each and every single person you may meet.

Further, if we started to see people as individuals; if we saw Bob as Bob, and not a custodian, or saw Jane as Jane, and not the mayor; we would start giving people the credit they truly deserve. We know and interact with so many people daily, and yet most of them mean nothing to us. But when we see people as individuals in and of themselves, we begin to realize that people are more than the categories we allocate them to. Students in your class do not just think about early modern european thought all day, they experience joy; co-workers do not just make deadlines, they cry and feel pain too.

watch Tony Campolo's story of a gay son (duration- 5:14)

Homosexuals do not just have sex all day, they pray and experience faith as well.

reminder

"However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me- the task of testifying the gospel of God's grace" -Acts 20:24