Wednesday, September 29, 2010


I wonder what inspired the first song. I take for granted the fact that music is everywhere in our lives these days-- home, cars, restaurants, work, even if you don't listen to music yourself it's hard to make it through an entire day without encountering music of some sort. But I have to remind myself that sometime, perhaps even before language existed, some person was too happy, or too sad, or too full of inexpressible emotions to simply speak them to another human. I doubt it was pretty. It was probably out of tune and confusing, just a random progression of notes one after the other. But it must have sounded in at least some way beautiful to whoever heard it. Think what it would be like to experience something like that for the first time, whether you were the singer or the audience. I imagine it was quite freeing as well. There's something about stepping out of your normal speaking habit, even these days, that is liberating and emotive. The act of discovering the possibility of song must have been nearly life changing. I wonder what it is inside of us that brings us to the point where regular words just won't do it, and we simply must create art to satisfy our need to express emotion. I wonder if it has any connection to the desire for the divine in us. Have you ever heard a song that sounds like the singer needs even more than the song to express himself? Like there's just too much to be said and even the most emotional notes don't hold enough weight for what the artist is going through? I think that could be where we reach the next step, the step toward the divine. Regardless, I think that first song must have been something unlike any of us have ever heard in our lives.

Friday, September 24, 2010

International Justice Missions

Check them out. And don't just glaze over it, let it sink in. This stuff is real, and it's evil, and it's preventable. Don't ever think that you can't do anything about things like this. We ALWAYS have enough to give, even if we're the widow giving her last penny.  I wish my heart were bigger than it is, and to think of how selfish and greedy I am makes me sick to my stomach. But at least that sick feeling doesn't have to be the end of it. Even if my righteous works are but filthy rags, I know there is always something for me to do in His name and for His glory.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Post #2

A few months ago I was sitting on the beach watching my dad and sister play bocce ball down the shoreline from me, and as close as they were to me, they still looked like ants beside the ocean. Even buildings looked small.

To think we are the highest it gets, the pinnacle of existence, seems almost psychotic at times like these. We think, act, live as though we own the earth, control it, have conquered it, when even our own inventions threaten our lives daily. We are so naive, humans. We run our rat race, under the guise of control, safety, wisdom, power, when none of these exist in us alone. We are but slaves to almost everything that surrounds us. The society we have created makes slaves out of us, and we know not how to escape it. We scarcely desire to escape it. We know deep down how hopeless, how powerless we are. And so we strive and we grasp for strength, hope, power. We think the most immediate and tangible things will bring us what we need most, because often we see what seem like immediate results. Other people, even, we put our hopes and dreams into those of us who seemingly exude the most strength or potential. And when they fail us we rage against them, cursing them for their wrongdoings.  And we move on to the next one.

Often we realize "I" is the only one we can truly rely on, the only one who will not or cannot let us down, because we are one, and we will not let ourself down or fail ourself. How foolish we are when we come to this. We knew this at the very first. It was what caused us to seek strength in others. And yet, somehow, we come back to ourselves when the others fall short.

How long will it take us to see the fault here? When will we open our eyes to the reality that they did not fail us because they were less than we are, they failed us because they are us. We are all humans, groping for meaning, and something, anything, above us to pull us out of ourselves. When will we learn? When will we see that the road we have travelled so long is but a hamster wheel, beaten down every time we come to the beginning again and repeat the journey, never a new step, never a new direction.

(more uplifting posts to follow)

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Hello no one!

Hello no one!

In honor of Donald Miller, I have chosen the URL If you haven't read any of Donald Miller's books, do. If you're more of a blog reader, read his blog:

The name is inspired by my new way of looking at life as the way home. How infinitely comforting it is to think of this broken, miserable life as just an extended car ride home to our maker. It brings me back to 15-hour long car rides home from vacation when I was little that lasted forever, were never as fun as I thought they would be, and always made someone cry. But somehow, despite all of the turmoil and strife and heartache, we always made it home in our minivan in one piece. I tend to think about life as if it's an endless mountain climb, each step taking me closer to some unknown peak, no end in sight, and no certainty as to where I am going or what will happen along the way. And yeah, if there's no life after this, that's pretty much what life is. But not if there's something after this. If the end of this life is the beginning of real life, then we're all just on a long, hard journey home. Nothing about the uncertainty of the "along the way" part changes, but at least we know where we're going to end up. I don't know, that just calms my soul.

Forgive my lack of bells and whistles, I'm more of a writer than a web designer. I hope to change that soon. And frankly I'm more of a journaler (word?) than a writer, so forgive my casualness. So welcome to my blog, come and walk with me!