Riddle Me This.

Every job I have ever had I have hated at one point or another. I haven't had a lot of jobs. I tell my friends I look terrible on paper. Let us see. I was a paper boy for a year, maybe two. I worked at Mcdonalds for six months. Then I worked at Subway for eight and a half months. Fast food and paper boy. Looking good hotshot.

Of these jobs, I have vented about most of them here. Maybe somewhere else. I really don't want to do that again. And this one seems unique. This comes from my highly experienced employment record. I now work at 7-11. Add "convenience store" or maybe "sales associate" to that list of awesome resume. How do I say this?

I hate going to work. I don't mind being there, and I don't mind leaving. The customers aren't too bad. Some of them stumble around. The other people who work there don't really affect my time there. It is really only a one person job at night. Oh, I work at night. I just hate going to work. I get stuck in how much I really don't want to go to work. I think stuff, like if a car hit me, or I slipped on the ice and broke my arm, it would not be too bad. I would not have to go to work.

I do not want to vent, just understand. Why? Why do I think it so terrible? I hypothesized that maybe it was the people. One girl is grumpy, but I realized she is always grumpy. Sucks for her. Another lady freaks out a lot, but she tries to be nice, and that's what matters. "Freaks out" is highly exaggerated. As in I mean swears-and-complains-about-many-things. The manager is nice enough. The night guy who taught me how to do everything at night is very likable. He is a talker. Every second person who comes in at night asks where he is, or if he is there. I haven't really worked with anyone else. There is one lady that I assoiciated with another lady, who I worked with at Subway, and a Philippino lady who reminds me of my old Korean boss. Why? Why this hate?

That is all.

Sometimes you can't make it on your own.

I don't think I can dance. Peninsula united was last night. This stuff takes a lot of set up. Good golly. But we did it. I would like to think it was a success. There was a dance party type shindig afterwards. Heanok's brother, Sammy, was the DJ. Disk jockey. I tried. Really, I did.

Cats are very strange. I would not say I am a cat person. I would not say I am a dog person. But, if there is no one else to hang out with, I have but little choice. This would be so much easier if they could talk. Maybe people wouldn't like their pets so much.

I work at 7-11 now. I work their today. I don't think I like it a lot, but I don't really know yet. Once, I thought working there would be a great job. I was not very old. And did not work there.

If I were literate, I would write complete sentences. And full paragraphs. And maybe even make sense. Then I would tell great tales that would inspire all you knew of them. It really is to bad. If I were literate, I probably would not work at a glorified corner store.

One day.

The Times They Are a-Changin'

I hope that ends well. I have a friend that I really did not know for a while. Like, some of my friends knew him. We would be in the same place sometimes, and those people who knew him would be there, and I'm with my friends too, so I could be whoever. I don't get to know people crazy well in groups. Groups offer casual observation of people you don't know, I guess. See how they react, what they do. You don't know who they are. Even if they do talk all the time. Like him. He missed his bus, so we walked into Sidney, and waited twenty minutes for the bus, just chillin' and talking. He might be convinced to get a job. I find that the best times I have with people are just me and someone else. I reflect happily on those times almost every time.

Matthew told me to write a book. Three months without a job, I asked him frequently about stuff. That's vague, and too bad. So I started transcribing what I had written in and old beat up notebook into text form. I wanted to anyways. I was scared the book would get soaked through with rain and torn apart by savage cats, and that it would all be lost. Today I wrote the last of what I had in the book on to the computer. Forever digitalized. Then I started moving the old blog posts into the same file.

Things were better back in the day. So much better. I was ridiculously sad. Nostalgic might be what they call it. I talked with a friend about this. She totally agreed, but had to get back to studying.

When I think these thoughts, some of me always thinks about how, one day, I will look back on today and wonder what happened to all those good times. How, maybe, I should be enjoying now like I enjoyed then. I read an article in a magazine somewhere about a lady who actually could not forget. She remembered, vividly, almost like reliving it, her entire life to that point. She said it was very distracting. She also said that, yeah, it actually was better back in the day, it isn't just a dumb saying. Today will be back in the day a year or two from now.

I'm thinking about doing something that I think will be really cool with this, but I don't want to say I am, and then not. And saying I will do something has not stopped me from not doing it before, so. Wait and see.

You have to fix him

What if how everything works is wrong? Or at least how I think it works is wrong. That would be shocking. Stunning. Fan-flippin-tastic. Life was boring two hours ago. I applied for a normal job, got an interview, took the interview, and am waiting for a phone call, but that is hardly exciting. I think it fits under "life two hours ago". In some things, I know almost nothing, and in others I am nearly a master. Or I hope I am. I could not tell you what those things were, but they must be there. This is why I cannot prove things. How about we take all those things, and throw them out the window? Sound good? We can start fresh. I can start fresh. Do it right. What right? Life. I can be, but so can rocks. I can live, really live. Now, what if television made your life less boring? Is that weird? Is that sweet? Is that sad? I do not know.

The restart button thinks he is ten years old.

Grease Buckets

They are trying to teach me to speak effectively. That means not rambling. I enjoy rambling. It is what I do. Effective speaking requires that you only say things that relate directly to your objective. All of this means I am not a very effective speaker. Good thing I am not speaking.
There is a really cool guy who goes to my church. His name is Trevor. He is getting up there in age and is really funny and has a thick accent so you really have to listen to hear what he is saying. He walked over to me and asked what I was going to tell him. And we are off. We talked about jobs, what I like to do (I need a better answer for that one), spiritual gifts, service, and prayer and plans and such. I wish I had the right words.
He said something I had never heard before. He said that if I don't have a plan, the devil does. Or something like that. It was in relation to morning devotions, about how it is vitally important to connect with God every morning, how when we don't and do the stuff we always do, someone else ...gah. You know? Ha. He drew it up in such a way that I thought of those super hero movies. How the bad guy tries to turn those who aren't the hero to the bad side. If you just spoke with captain fantastic and dr horrible tries to tell you lies about your hero, you know it's garbage.
So, devotions. Do them. And don't let me be a hypocrite.

I've got Rocket Shoes

Kids are dumb. They don't know a thing about how great bedtime is for them. I should be in bed right now. I don't have a bedtime. Lame.
My mom hurt her knee about two weeks ago while delivering papers. She figured she just hurt it really badly, but it would get better over time. It did not, so she got an X-ray. She limps around and such. And keeps delivering papers. My dad, one day, decided I should be helping her while she is in this semi crippled state with this paper route, really paper routes, that I think she should quit. I feel pretty strongly that way, but she keeps doing it. I used to deliver papers too, but now I truly detest that whole occupation. I vowed to myself that I would not deliver papers anymore. But my dad was right, so I have been doing that. It takes about 2 hours a night. I sleep in more consistantly now.
I also feel really out of it. In a couple hours I will be up delivering papers. That's just weird. My mom found out today that her knee isn't cracked or broken, and she is getting some physio done on it tomorrow that should mostly recover her. I'm almost clear. I have to get up earlyish on Saturday. I was frightened of doing papers and that. But it might all be okay. Did I tell of my lack of funds?
They have finally run out. I'm thinking Tuesday will mark the end of that. Yesterday, in preparation for this, I walked through Sidney for a while and noted all the businesses clearly displaying help wanted signs. There are about 20 of them. This has to work.
But the coolest thing about everything is it won't matter later. Not nearly as much as I think it does now. A year from now I won't remember how it felt to be here. I won't even care. There will be new things to make me worry. Or try to make me worry. I like how time does that. I think God must see things like that a bit, being inside and outside of all time and all.

What am I even doing

Oops

So, that plan might not work. The next day, I searched on the intrawebs for stuff that might help. You know, schools that have those kind of classes. I'm not a friend of the internet. That was discouraging. I had another walk and thought about being homeless. Foil that internet! Oh dear...
I'm so distracted...
I went to Sleggs today and dropped off the paper that might get me a job. If it doesn't...I'm at the end of my plan again. Well, not really. The overall plan is still intact, just not started yet. Details are needed. Like where I get money from. It doesn't really matter I guess. Salty's? Bahaha. Ohh...
But, I might go somewhere grand with some friends one day. And by one day, I mean soonish sort of. I don't know yet. I'm hesitant to say anymore, in case it is just like my bogus plans that fall through all the time.
I can't think right now. I might have fried my brain.

Potatoes

Write something...Muahaha. Umm...that's a good start, write?
I want to write something to a friend of mine, But I don't really know how to write it. I walked around for a while. It was raining a bit, but once you are in it, you don't even notice. I quite enjoy walking. It helps my brain. And maybe my body.
Dang.
We have a leadership cadre at youth now. Right before youth, really. Until the other cadres pick up. Lane and Andrew are trying to teach us how to make good, coherent sermons, or five minute messages, or something like that. Apparently rambling is really terrible for your point, as well as throwing every story and joke you know into the message. Nuts. In the future, maybe I will write more focused writings and all who see will be utterly blown away by my genius. Or...we won't go there.
I was watching a show, and there is a guy in the show that we are going to call Crimm. Two m's. Sweet. Anyway, he would help the other people he met, telling them to hold up their heads, back straight, don't look down, and things like that. Give them a new life approach. I don't think I needed all the don't look down stuff, but I'd take a new life approach. Like grabbing life by the horns. I think thats from a car commercial though.
So, I will tell the next grand plan I have for the future. It may or may not happen. I fully intend it to happen, or else I wouldn't write it down, but from past experience, intentions don't always cut it. My dad took me to measure a house, probably because he saw I was bored out of my mind. Maybe just out of my mind. Afterwards, he talked about planes again, how they will never go out of business. Once I make these teleporters, everything will change, but until then, there will be planes. He told me how I really should be doing that. He has really been spearheading the whole thing with planes. I think he really wants me to. I intend to go to school in september, for...umm...and at...uhhh.... Well, Maybe I'm going into aviation? I was supposed to look up places for that before I started this. But, that's the plan. For now.
And now I should be sending a message to that friend of mine. Unless this was all terrible. Oh well.

I should be a model

I am a specimen of health. In it's purest form. I always eat good things for me. Shall we review how healthy I am? I think so. Let's start on Halloween morning. I woke at about ten, and ate some rice krispies. Mmm. I love the snapping and those other sounds. After that...I told a friend of mine I would bake a pie with him, but I wasn't in the right mind for making pie, so I got him and we went shopping for pies. Halloween is a busy day in parking lots. oh man. The cashier reminded us that it was lunch time by saying something about how pie wasn't a healthy lunch. Little did she know, I never intended to have pie for lunch. Until she said that. Pie and coke really isn't a healthy lunch. And then for dinner I got a sandwich from a corner store. It had lots of meat on it. It was very good. Easily really healthy for you. I went to the church and acted important for a while and danced and ate licorice. I like licorice. Very much. I don't know if I'm spelling that right. ANYWAYS, I came home to Reid's house. They were all gone. I was supposed to have given candy out to trick or treaters, but I wasn't here to give out candy, so none was missing when I came back. Chocolate. A good bowl of chocolate. How could I let such a thing just sit there, alone, neglected, on such a night as Halloween? I could never be so cruel. I let this bowl of chocolate come watch some movies with me. It seemed to like the movies very much. Thank you for smoking, and the Matrix trilogy. I had never seen the third one, and figured they would go well in order. I was right. By then my friend the sun had come back out to play, and I'm not on to disappoint. After some raisin bran, I met the day like an elephant hitting a tree. I grabbed some 'good for you' juice from sleven, and then caught a bus. When I left this bus, I was led to a church where they told me I would play with some kids. That sounded exciting, but I was beginning to miss a dear friend of mine. Her name is sleep. She stays with me at night, most of the time. There wasn't much room for her that Halloween night though. Chocolate and Neo are quite demanding, and really, I hadn't spent much time with them at all. I wanted to. Back to the rubberfloored room of church, they served us spaghetti. Some kicked spaghetti into someone else. I thought that was funny, but I didn't see it happen. This is a very good thing. After the kids finished eating spaghetti and playing games and singing songs and doing other kid stuff, they left, and we put the rubberfloored room back together. Made it look nice. We do that. I went outside and crushed some leaves and listened to some people talk about how much they hate gray squirrels. I'm indifferent. They don't bug me, I don't hate them. A simple, beautiful relationship. When these topics were exhausted, and leaves crushed, I met the bus again, and it took me back to the land of Sidney. I tried to get a sandwich, but they wanted much more than a poor unemployed, uneducated boy could afford. *sigh* I walk back to Reid's house and spoke with the cats. I would like to tell you that they understood, but that would be a lie. They baffled me. Someone came looking for Reid. He's not here. He won't be here again for quite a while. I zoned out pretty severely on the couch. I had a plan. When the couch could no longer console me, I would shoot the cats, and then go ask the man who made sandwiches to make one for me really cheap. Then I would check the town to see what I could see. This plan failed utterly. My memory gets hazy here. I shot the cat, and then...I was outside on the street and in my head nothing was making sense. I was in some group of evil thing, and everything was frightening and seemed like it was ready to devour each other and itself, and I couldn't figure it out. I wasn't scared, but I couldn't understand what I was thinking, or feeling? Was it a feeling? My clock said it was 7:07. That means I missed the sandwich. I was worried that meant I might have missed more too, but I got there and the world started to make sense again. I drank some terrible tasting liquid, bought a box of candy, and then ate most of it. Candy is good for me. It really is.

See? Perfect health. They should model my life for every person who wants to be healthy. Clearly, there is no better way. I really miss my friend, Sleep, right now.

killer whales.

I went to Nanoose Bay this weekend and it was really cool. I don't actually know why I go to Nanoose Bay ever. I don't know anyone. Everyone else who goes has friends that they are coming to see. I don't. Why do I go? No idea. It was there that I first encountered Marcel. For those of you who don't know, Marcel is my favourite speaker of all time, and he probably doesn't even know I exist. But that's my fault. This time the speaker was named Chris King. I like him a bunch too.

Chris said a lot of things, and didn't care if people were offended. One thing he said that I'm dwelling on little was how youth leaders and the like who are leading youth groups should be teaching the youth to be the church, to get out there and love and such. I thought about that for a moment, along with why I go to church. Why I go to youth. I don't know why. Recently, less of my friends come to youth. I guess they are out growing it or turning heathen or something. That's okay though. When I see them I tell them they should come and they say they will but they don't. Why should they come?

I don't mind if they don't come. I think, as a leader, or better put, as leaders, we can just pour into the youth who do come. I don't know how to make it sound epic, but this subtle shift has changed my perspective a bit. Maybe more. We shall see.

Hanging out and Reading books don't Combine well

I don't know what it is about potatoes, but they make my mouth feel like it is going to explode. Then I think about how they use potatoes to power lightbulbs in grade school science experiments. That's encouraging. Supper was almost ready before I left, but I had to leave. I still arrived ten minutes late. Before I left,'Hey, wanna save some supper for me?', and they said ,'Yeah all over it' or something like that. Yeah, now a have a mountain of these mouth exploding, lightbulb powering potatoes to shovel into my stomache. I'm not even hungry. Yuck. I'm sure there were carrots being made before I left. I hoped beyond hope that there would be carrots buried in the mound of earth apple, but I have no such luck. This, my friends, is an exciting day. Mishaps with potatoes.

I still don't have a job. I paint the gate outside. That's what I'm doing with my life. Painting a gate. Why? Because it needs painting. I'll paint it again in a couple years. And I will spend the rest of my life living in my parents house eating copious amounts of potatoes and painting gates white and houses blue and receiving free fast food sandwiches by various methods, so my tiny money cushion never deteriorates and I never go anywhere. That's a decent sized sentence. Is it grammatically legit? I can't tell anymore.

I looked into some school kind of. Like, I'm pretty sure 'kind of' is the most you can look into through websites. I don't know what I want to do with myself, so I think I will go to school so I feel like I'm still doing something. What should I take? Programs? Where are their programs? Oh, there they are. But, this is just a brief overveiw of nothing I'm looking for. Courses then? Okay, here we go. But I've heard you have to be smart to get into some of these or something like that. Where do I find that? Requirements? Nope. Oh, here is a recommendation. Cool, I might make it in, with solid recommendations like that. But, cost? Cost is nowhere. I hear it is supposed to be about a million dollars. And will have to keep assuming this, but you aren't telling me the price. Jon says that's because they don't want to scare you off. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm not jumping in to be told later that I owe a million dollars. Gahhhh!!!

Sometimes it gets boring at home when you don't have a job. Or school. Or friends in the same situation. That's why I don't mind painting the gate. Or picking apples. Something to do is far superior than doing nothing. I decided that sleeping and watching movies by yourself also count as nothing. I brought this up because computers are boring. Maybe that logic doesn't follow, but I got there somehow. I found some almost cool things my compy has that I totally don't really care about. Like an 'on-screen keyboard'. Type everything you want to type with one finger. Yeah, it's slow. And this magnifier thing. It's kind of cool, if I was half blind. It has an 'invert colours' option. Why? I like inverted colours as much as the next guy, but this seems rather silly.

Hahaha. I'm sorry if you read that. A little bit of wasted time. Brought to you from me, through the internet. Intraweb? If you want to know how I'm doing, I'm almost finished painting the gate, and I don't know what is next. Just pretend you don't know what is next, and nobody is there to tell you. I guess I shouldn't need someone to tell me. I'm sort of new to this 'life' thing. That's pretty much where I am.

Bits

To sum up everything from then to now, it went better than planned. Africa was hot and dry, and what you would expect Africa to be. Well, I suppose I can't label it all. Zambia. There you go. Now, I don't think I will go on anymore short term missions trips. It's hard to understand when it all comes and goes in less than a month. Even so, if I could go back and not do it, I would still go.

Then I went to Pender Island, my longer, less advertised mission. Each week, a different set of kids came, and I got to play with them outside in the sun and the rain. We went canoing and disc golfing and swimming and hike and a deluge of other things. Action Packed relaxation. And I'm pretty sure I am friends with everyone who was staff at the camp. Between 20 and thirty kids. They aren't kids, but I couldn't tell you their ages. People are people, no matter how small. Or what age, I guess.

So now, after about 5 weeks of living with more friends than I have here at home, it's a little dull. A more efficient person would have a job by now and know what was next. I've been back a week. I didn't plan anything past Friday. Oops. But, I'm busy with small things like sending off those who go to school, and picking apples. Mostly picking apples.

Here we go

I'm going to go hang out with five guys in about twelve hours for three weeks. It's nuts. I'm going to go build a house in Zambia with them. I don't know any of them well, but I should know them better afterwards. It's going to be so sweet. I'm excited for all the people I can meet and the new experiences and just everything. I appreciate relationships ridiculously more than I did. I have a friend who I almost hated for a while. Maybe I actually did, but Now I miss him and we have such a crazy connection that only we have. It's beautiful. Every person I know I know differently from other people I know. Does that make sense? I don't want to be vague right now. I want this to make perfect sense. I know Jon differently than I know Josh, and I know him differently than I know Kyle. And it goes on and on. Once again, it's beautiful. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Remember that lame paragraph I wrote a bit ago about a lion? Well, I totally want to make that say what I meant to make it say. I want it to say how I equated the lion with God, as he was intended to be seen by his author. How Aslan came and the problems didn't go away. But, that was okay. Everything was okay. It helped me understand how ridiculously awesome God is. Since historymaker I asked God to reveal himself to me, because at one of the hubs the speaker talked about how when Peter responded to Jesus saying 'You are the Christ', or whatever he said, and Jesus said Peter was blessed, because that wasn't revealed by man but by God. So I thought,'If it worked for Peter, it could work for me'. Maybe I'm making up connections, but I think God was showing me a little bit of what He is like.

I got in the car the other day with my Mom. She drives me places because I don't have my license. I would be embarrassed, but gas prices are so high, I don't know if I want to drive. That's a lie. I totally do, but feel bad over wasting all that money to learn. It's only going to get worse though. That's totally a tangent. I brought my Bible and something. I fully brought my bible with the intention of reading it, but then I felt sort of awkward reading it there with my mom. Then I felt silly because I felt like that and she's my mom. I almost don't want to read it in front of people because I don't want to look like I'm showing off how super spiritual I am. I'm totally not. I know you aren't supposed to be ashamed of the gospel. Do you know what I'm trying to say? It's hard sometimes.

There you go. I'll talk to you in three or four weeks.

The End of a Sandwich Artist

I thought of the title a while ago. What feels like a long while ago. I told someone it would be the title of my next post, and then went and did one that wasn't with that title. But now, I can use it. I am no longer a sandwich artist. Unfortunately, I might have gotten myself hooked on Subway. Before, I didn't really understand how it worked, so I wasn't crazy about it. Now I pretty much know everything. And, as far as I can tell, everyone loves me there. I'm going to miss them. Subway stories seem to mean a lot more to people who work at subway. It's a sweet thing to have in common.

But, now that it is over, 4 days from now I get on a plane for 9 hours, then I sit in an airport for some more hours, and then I get on a different plane for 10 hours. I don't even know how long the car ride after that will be. And all of that with 5 people I know of but don't really know. Ya know? They are like acquaintances, but I think I know them better than that, but we don't really hang out... I guess I'll make some more friends.

This morning I updated my white board. It has a calender on it that goes up to the beginning of September. That's about as far as I think I know what I'm doing until. Does that sentence work? Anyway, it is kind of funny how empty my calendar looks, but how unavailable I'll be. Two little notes cover 7 weeks. Hahaha. Maybe that isn't so funny.

I've got a plan. I don't know how to implement it now though. I don't think I can. I have a friend I love dearly, but we don't really... I don't know how to put it. It seems very surface, even though I know it isn't. I want to be a better friend to him, but I'm not a very serious person in general, and so I'm generally not taken seriously. What's my point? I'm bad at that stuff. But I've got a plan, as I said. Unfortunately, plans to become better friends with someone don't work well when you are going away for a bit. It will have to wait. I think that's okay.

I hope to be a different person when the summer is over.

Preclude

I watched a movie tonight about a lion. I liked it, in the way that I like those sort pf movies. They get me every time. Like superhero movies. You just feel that much more super afterwards. Anyways, the whole movie I was waiting for the lion to appear, because I knew that once the lion appeared, everything would be okay. It would all stop, because there is a lion, and then who cares what you were doing? The moment never came. But, that was okay. It came close.

John wrote a book, several actually, and they turned into book studies that churches do. My mom went to one, and John spoke to them through a video series thing, and she got that video series. She does stuff like that. Anyway, when I'm in my house, most of the time I'm sitting around, not doing anything. The other day my mom was cleaning up the living room. The living room has pretty much everything you could want to do in this house, and anything not available in the living room is in the bedroom. She was listening to John, and I overheard him. He was talking about heaven, and how it is real and how it is real now. It was alluring. He made me want a piece.

I don't like excuses. I think I've gotten the difference between them and reasons figured out. Excuses are when you don't want to be blunt in telling someone you don't want to.

I have a friend who does more of everything I do, and is fine with that, while I think I should be doing something else. I wish I were more like him, sort of. His mom talked about a guy who was always sharing that life was such a struggle, and that he was barely scraping by, and how totally unappealing that is. Life shouldn't be a struggle. He does what he wants and is fine, and I do what I want and feel like a waste of time. There's nothing wrong, it really is just a waste.

There should be a good thought here at the end, but words fail me. Subway greatly reduces grammatical accuracy.

My anchor's ashore

I wish I could sell responsibilities. I wish other people would buy them. Or even just take them. For free. Maybe this is what stress is?

I finished Chuck's book. He met with people everyday to pray and meet God. They did something like that way back in the day. Some say we can't do that these days because we are too busy. Garbage. Right now, that is just adding more responsibilities and stuff though. It matters more than the rest I suppose. But...How many excuses would you like?

It's totally my birthday tomorrow. Last year I tried not telling anybody. It resulted in no one caring. So this year, I figured I'd do whatever. I'm giving a friend of mine a present tomorrow. I might pay for another ones lunch. That's how hobbits do it, I hear. The aged one gives presents to all his friends on his birthday.

I guess it is my birthday now. I can grace you with my writing prowess. Hmm.

I like to try to make things work. Not like watches. More like events. Nah, more like scheduling. The most efficient has you doing lots of junk. I built today a few hours ago.

I can't continue.

Memory Lapse

Man, I'm pooped.

Thursday I was at Subway for 12 hours, 11 til 11, which is completely ridiculous, and then for 7 hours the next morning. And two days before that, on tuesday, I went to the dentist, who made my mouth hurt a bunch. The secretary told me to take it easy, but I couldn't really. I had to work that night. I think those combined probably did me in. Peninsula United friday night, help set up for that. Try to act like a leader of some sort. It's hard to meet people who are already in their circle. You have to be confident. I was tired. Car wash Saturday morning. That was surprisingly more physically taxing than anticipated. Is that redundant? The next days are pretty full too. Fuller than I like them. In four days though, I'll be fine. Almost there. It's a good kind of tired. Like when you are climbing a mountain.

Chuck has a beautiful story. It's inspiring. I'm not done yet though. I hope that Mark's word relate somehow. He's been good at that recently. I already told you that. I'm almost done. Almost there.

What?

Cookie jar

I'm going to praise my book writing friend Mark, again. Maybe it's just because I am where I am and I'm reading that into what he is saying, but even if I am, it doesn't seem like far of a jump. He spoke of how we are perpetually busy and that drives us. In circles. He mentioned briefly something about time that my friend John Charles Kerr talked about more in depth somewhere, about kairos and chronos. I would try to describe them to you, but I'll steal it from somewhere else.

Kairos (καιρός) is an ancient Greek word meaning the "right or opportune moment". The ancient Greeks had two words for time, chronos and kairos. While the former refers to chronological or sequential time, the latter signifies "a time in between", a moment of undetermined period of time in which "something" special happens. What the special something is depends on who is using the word. While chronos is quantitative, kairos has a qualitative nature.

I got that from here http://www.reference.com/search?r=13&q=Kairos

Back to Mark, he talked of 'a holy must' that everyone has, or is given. That was definitely his focus, but we went into it more, and the more we went in, the less it made sense. That might be because one of us confused 'must' for 'musk', and that kept messing me up. It might have also had to do with me correcting information that wasn't fact even though it was presented as such. It was irrelevant either way. Focus was cast to the ground and trampled by wombats.

It fit, since this week I'm in now feels ridiculously busy. There is work and youth stuff and dentist appointments and small errands, like changing banks and fixing flat tires. And I found another friend named Chuck. He was pretty up there politically, and wrote a book. I don't know a thing about politics, but he said he didn't know much about writing, so it's okay.

In the end, it is harder to be responsible.

it's farther than I can see

This morning I was ready for work, and asked mom to give me a ride. She said okay. She wanted to beat a couple more bad guys first though. My mom totally plays video games. More on that later. We went out to the car, but as we went she started saying something about hoping she hadn't locked the keys in the car. Well, she totally did. We tried to break in with coat hangers, but she had the better side and we both don't break into cars often. She called the guys who do, and they were going to take forty five minutes. Cool. Definitely not going in a car. So I got my bike and went. I tried to go pretty fast too, because I was actually already late. I had called them to let them know though. I cut through that shortcut by Tommy's old house, and there were a bunch of cars in the way, so I went between a couple. I'm pretty pro like that. But the ground wasn't even. It went something like cement driveway, dirt, cement curb. The dirt was definitely lower, and I wasn't going slowly. It made a good thump. Whenever that happens, I get scared that I might be destroying my bike, but nothing happened right away. Then it made a strange sound. Then it thumped progressively more. Sweet. Flat back tire. I was close by then so I walked it. Then the other person who was supposed to come to work today didn't come because they were sick. I had some good plans for today, but these events unraveled them pretty well.

I was going to write something about video games, and how they make odd relationships, but maybe later.

The best I can be is Jamaican

So, I'm a tiny bit scared that I'm turning into Calvin. Calvin owns the subway I work at. He is quite a bit weird, but I think he is funny. I was blowing my nose the other day, because I was getting over my head cold that is pretty much gone now, and he said 'You had a good nose, but then you blew it'. And he blames me for almost everything. Carolyn thinks that is why he likes me working days. I think she was joking about that though. He came in one night with a vacuum to vacuum things that needed to be vacuumed, and asked me what I did with the power outlet. Yeah, I had to move it because I was changing the place around? I can totally move power outlets. And he thinks horrible things are funny. Well, this one isn't too bad, but we have this spray bottle thing that we spray the bread with. It makes the bread grow right or something. I'm not going to finish this. Think of horribly funny things someone could do with a spray bottle. Of water.

If I were organized, I might right something like that. Organized. It's hard to get out of the box when everything connects though.
I'm split.

Can I move when I am Paralyzed

It is so warm here. And it sounds like the heater is on. Let me fix that.
It was on 20. I don't know what that means fully, but I know it is warmer than it needs to be. Maybe I have a fever? No, you get cold with fevers. Right?

I'm a little under the weather. The beautiful weather. Yesterday my throat hurt, today my head feels like it is sick. I hope I don't get everyone else sick too. It is too nice to be stuck home sick. And my Mom just got back from the hospital recently.

Sunday morning her stomach was hurting, but we convinced her to come to church. She did, and I left to go play football in the rain or something silly. When I got home, I found out she was in hospital, and they were keeping her overnight. Just for observation. They kept her another day before the let her come home. She says that they think it was some sort of muscle thing. Apparently your body starts to destroy itself as you get older.

How are you supposed to react to that though. 'Oh, by the way,your mom is in the hospital.' ..what do you do? You know what else I don't understand? Goodbyes. I watched a friend of mine get on a plane and go home, and he's gone. It's weird. Another friend of mine leaves in a couple days. I don't think I have a point. I just don't understand.

I made a friend of mine a sandwich. I gave it to him for free. When I got home, he spent some longer-than-necessary amount of time thanking me. He started telling me how fabulous I am and how I am a good person who God is using. I don't think a sandwich equals that. Maybe to someone else, who needed the food. Not to him. I guess it was nice to do, but I couldn't tell you why I did it. I can't tell you why I'm doing anything right now.

I could tell you what I'm doing though. It's on a calender on my wall.

Night Diving

I have a friend named Mark. He wrote a book, and I don't actually know him. We are reading his book at our cadre. I try to fool people into thinking I'm extremely intelligent through my false friendships with these authors. Like Don. And Martin.

In his book, Mark wrote about pride, and why it was worse than some physical temptations. In the end, he said it was a heart thing. He spoke of holiness and how you can do the good things without being holy, but that isn't what makes you holy. It comes from the inside. Or outside. Actually, he said that having truth in your inner parts was holiness. You know what? That's not my point at all. I'm not going to make it though. I'm skipping to the end.

I've been somewhat focused on what I should do, but no amount of doing gets me where I want to be. I have to change myself. I said that recently, didn't I?

I get stuck when the road ends.

I have no need for Stairs

You are all terrific.

You help me to understand that I don't understand.

Every night I wish I could start the day over and do it right.

Every morning I forget the night and do whatever comes, regardless.

It's night again, and I want to do things right, but why?

I had a thought once that we read the Bible to know God, not to read the Bible, like we are supposed to.

Shouldn't that make this matter more?

I have a friend that I would read anything they wrote.

However long.

What will I think in the morning?

I don't know the first thing about love

I walked home tonight. It was beautiful. I took my time. The moon was hiding, but that was alright. It was already behind me. I decided electricity shouldn't be used so much. That's wrong. A street light went out as I approached it, and I wished the rest would go out too. A good old power outage. That would be okay. But I knew it wouldn't happen. It was too nice out. I tried to imagine what it was like before we had these day long suns in our houses. Before we could be entertained by a screen with pictures. I figure we went to sleep earlier. And had more fires. And had more active pastimes. But, we can't go back in time. And besides, I would regret it if I did. Refrigerators and medicines and all this ridiculousness everywhere that makes us so comfy.

I have a friend who told me about a guy who said that cutting something out completely was the easy way out. That instead, you just control your use and intake of the disputable activity or whatever. I totally disagreed in the case presented, but a second time round makes it seem more plausible. Like, sure, maybe we would be better off without tv and radio and video games and internet, but all of these things can be used in a good way, and refusing those cuts support from the good of it. I'm unsure.

I visited Parkland today, and talked with a girl who likes a guy. She said she liked him because of his shoes. I said that wasn't true. She wouldn't have paid any attention to his shoes if she didn't already like him. She agreed. But she continued to ask friends if it was shallow to like someone because of their shoes. I was indirectly thinking about that. I think she stuck to that because she needed a reason for why she liked him. Not for herself, but...gah.

I tried thinking of reasons for why I do what I do. I didn't get a lot of answers from myself. Now I know how everyone else feels. Maybe that's okay though? I don't know the best way to proceed in this game of life. It's my first time through. Let's play again sometime.

Amies

I get thoughts that I totally want to write almost all the time. Unfortunately, there is no way to write them when I receive them. I then proceed to compose what it might look like in my mind. However, during that process I start to think 'what the deuce? Man, follow the thought, see where it goes, don't stop here. You can think about it later and write it down later.' So I do, and it goes more places that I want to write down, but I have to keep going. It doesn't reach the end by the time I stop, and when I can write them down, all I remember is that I had something really good. It's a terrible feeling. But not as bad as accidentally microwaving your dog to death.

Now I'm scared that they will all look like silly not-epic-at-all ideas. They felt more.

I made a theory recently. Everybody lives in a balloon. That's my theory. Ask me about it later. You'll except it to be good, and then be horribly let down.

I decided God died to save us from a punishment we chose for ourselves because he loves us. He didn't do it so he could make us do his will. He's better at that than we are. And he didn't do it so we could become mindless puppets that don't make any decisions because we want to do his will.
He did it because he wants to be with us.

I was at a small church on a small island, and a lady who had been in Russia apparently was talking about tables. How Jesus was at a lot of tables. Like, seriously. The other day, I saw an old couple with another old woman, and they were talking pretty loudly, because I was definitely across the street when I heard them, but the man of the couple was saying to the lady,'you should come to our place tonight for dinner. We're having roast beef'. The roast beef part might not be true. But I liked that immensely. Going to fast food places all the time ruins that. Inviting someone into your house, where you have a meal for them? We are totally missing out guys.

It's pretty much an excuse. A great one. My friends never know what to do, and neither do I. I'm increasingly a fan of not doing anything, but just sitting and talking. Anywhere, about anything. It's okay. Eating a meal with someone is all of that. This is what the Russia lady from the small church on the small island was talking about. Jesus just wants to sit around with us at a table and eat with us. She mentioned a song called 'God and man at table are sat down'. She said almost no one had heard of that song, and they were too raspy to sing it, which is a shame. It's a good song. But maybe it's better they didn't. It's easy to ignore the words when you sing a song.

Carrotcake

I might be a gardener. I used to be. More, a weeder really. Those white ones that explode if you touch them. But now, someone bought me carrot seeds, as a joke. Trust me, it was funny. I sort of want to make them. They take 8 days to germinate and 70 days to mature. I leave for three weeks in 84 days. And know nothing about growing carrots. Learn by experience?

Someone told me to make sure this meant something.


I was thinking about how terrible it would be to be crucified. I don't think I fully understand, or I wouldn't be who I am now.

I don't feel like writing this.

I talked to the moon tonight. It didn't say anything, because it was really far away and didn't hear me. I heard people say that God is like that, or that they saw God like that. He's far away, can't hear me, probably doesn't even care. They said that Jesus changed all of that. Suddenly He is close and here and we can connect to God. That's sweet and all, but I don't feel very connected. I talked to the moon because it was the biggest, brightest, most beautiful thing I could see. I thought maybe that would make it easier to talk to God. But it's still really far away and doesn't hear me.

How does that work?

If God sent His son to save us, doing nothing wrong by the highest of standards, by dying the most lonely death, to be mocked and fully rejected by the people he loved, and giving everything there was to give, why is it He seems so far away?

It doesn't make sense. But even if I had the magic answer, it wouldn't change anything. I don't want the answers, or the questions.

I don't want to sound like a puppet.

Boxing is like Dancing

I want to write something to you. Desperately. But I don't know what to say. How can words change lives? How can my words change your life?

Recently, I left God alone, and in exchange, He wouldn't bug me. It was a pretty good deal. I could do what I wanted, and forget about what I should or shouldn't be doing. I didn't do anything bad, I just didn't really care for doing anything good really. I think I would still do good things apart from God. I can give to charity and hold doors open and talk to homeless people.

I realized how ridiculously selfish I am.

I decided around Monday that I would come back to God around Friday. Maybe that's giving me more control than I should have. Maybe it shouldn't have been put off. What's done is done. I could give you a bazillion reasons why I shouldn't really carry on. It's too hard, and really, I didn't sign up for this.

You can't define something by what it isn't. Maybe you can. But you shouldn't.


Why? If this can be answered, I'm set.

I asked a friend if he would come with me. I asked him sort of badly, so he might not have known what I meant. It had to be done though. I can't do it alone. For myself? Why would I go through so much work to get myself there? Really, I'm fine where I am. I can talk myself down. Maybe I think I don't deserve it? But when it's for someone else, it becomes more important. Well, I didn't really want to go, but I couldn't let him go alone. That sort of thing.

Blessed is he who overcomes.

Those aren't leaves.

They are going to break me without even trying.

We watched Across the universe last night. It was long and kind of plotless. I liked it. It made me think of how the things that matter hurt when they are taken away. I told my friend this, and he pretty much said 'duh Werner. Why did it take you a movie to see that?' It made me think about what would hurt me if it was taken away. I thought about it, and didn't come up with anything substantial. That made me sad, but only intellectually. I didn't really care.

We saw Parkland's musical play production of Grease tonight. It was terrific. It was a musical put on by a high school. I loved it. Right now, my face feel like it is covered in the makeup I would have worn, were I in it. I can smell it too. I went back after to say hey to everyone, and we got them to sign a poster, but I didn't know most of them anymore, and those I did know were too busy to talk. It kind of made sad. Not 'I should be sad so I'll say I am'. I used to be part of that family. As sad as it was too leave, it had to be done, only made better by the thought that I could come visit them again. Here I am, visiting them, but I'm not part of the family anymore, so, like, whatever. It's not the your-soul-is-being-ripped-out I was expecting. This mattered to me, at least a little bit.

You should read my thoughts. I thought out an excellent next paragraph, but wasn't typing. You would've laughed at the end. Truly spectacular. And you missed it. All because you can't read minds.

Snowflakes

I thought that I enjoyed being too cold more than being too hot. I figured I could remedy the chill better than I could chill the heat. But, I was walking home tonight, and I was cold. I'm dumb, and didn't wear enough. Do I really enjoy this? No, no I don't. Then I thought about why.

I'm sure most kids have their parents tell them to put on a jacket when they go outside and it isn't summer or night time. Why, child asks. So you don't catch a cold, parent replies. That scares me a bit. I don't like being sick. I don't want to let it stop me from doing anything, but I don't want to spread it around. And feeling bad, snot everywhere. Gross. If I'm cold outside, I could catch a cold! My lack of warmth could make me miserable in the near future.

That, and it's not very comfortable.

I would rather be gross and sweaty and smelling terrible in some shade on some scorchingly hot day, than risk my health being cold. But not in the sun. That's what gets me about being too hot. Sunburns. The sun destroys my skin. I'm fairly white and not at all tanned because of it. I don't tan. Just burn. And that's worse than the possibility of being sick. Definitely being in pain. The shoulders and back of neck. Up there for the worst things about summer. Mosquitoes are up there too. And I haven't even been to Ontario.

And sunscreen? Eww.

First is sunburns,
then colds,
then being sticky and sweaty and smelly.

It's too late

Small things seem so much bigger when they are all you know. I'm not a huge fan of decisions. Once I have made one, I'd rather I wasn't told that it wasn't actually an option.
If I'm going to write here, I should cut the vague crap. This was a bad idea.

Sometimes I think I'm on the right page, but nobody else is there. I could try to bring them there, but I'm not a great communicator. And, the right page is kind of scary, if I am right, and some wouldn't like it. How should I convince people to go to somewhere frightening when I can't lead them to entertaining things? And talk really isn't enough. Thoughts aren't enough. But they are all I have right now.

I wondered what people think a lot today. I worked and saw people come in, and saw what they did, how they acted, and could guess what they thought. Probably wrongly, but I think it's a step. Maybe. If someone could read my mind, I'd let them. They would end up hating me, or me hating them, but I think that would be okay. Would that really change anything? Yes. For the better, I would hope.

We read a chapter that said that following Jesus should be an adventure, but the church is more comparable to a 'how-to' video. Someone said that wasn't us. Surely it couldn't be our church. He is clearly writing to someone else. I think he was wrong though. My life doesn't look much like an adventure, and that's mostly my fault. I'm kind of lazy. My old Japanese teacher agrees.

Should 'why' come before going? What if we never get to the why, but we must go? What if that is somehow part of faith? But is doing what you are supposed to because that is what you are supposed to do right? I've had this question for a long time. If I weren't so lazy, I would dig around and tell you how long for.

I'm glad I don't write books. I don't have to make sense.

Nonsensical

So, I was in the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel, and it was dark, but I knew where they they were. I grabbed one, but as I tried to rip it away from the roll, I half broke it off the wall. I tried to put it back, but it was too late. Do you enjoy stories?

I don't think they need to have a point. You get made fun of if you don't have one with stories you tell though. When I was young, My parents teased me, all in good fun. It made me so mad. They would stay that if I didn't learn to laugh at myself, I would pretty much be hosed for life. That either saved my life, or defined it. I'm not sure. All I know is lots of people enjoy teasing me now, and I don't mind. Did I bring it upon myself, or was it unavoidable? Does it even matter?

I think the thought of a male hairdresser is funny. I told some friends this, and they thought it was terrible. Maybe it is.

I've spent much of my free time saving worlds, as I've told you. It's looked down upon when you refer to ideas from these worlds that apply to conversations. I find this unfortunate. They can be quite educational, even if they aren't teaching you math. I learned what it could be like to be outside the church looking in, and why so many laugh at those inside. Different perspectives are portrayed. It's enriching. What's good? Evil? Right?

If my life were a game, it would be really boring.

I watched a video on Wednesday. A guy in it said we were trying to keep our kingdoms of selfishness intact. I like to think I have a kingdom. I rule over my kingdom and choose where it goes.

We talked about harmony briefly. How we are to live in harmony with each other. I figured music has harmony in it, or could, and probably should. We could live music then, perhaps. I just remembered that I heard this somewhere else before though.

Theory theory theory. I can make theories all day. But I don't do much.

Ultimate Sandwich

I need a new title. I don't feel like ignoring people anymore. And it doesn't accurately reflect what I feel I am now writing. I don't want to fully give that up though. I like not writing to an audience. I like writing to me. Thinking in text. If I start making this for anyone else, it will suck.

I think to myself a lot. Pretty much all the time. Most of the time, it isn't important at all. Then, I'll wonder how I got to where I got to in my head and have to back track and see how ridiculous it all was. Of course, there are clear connections to everything. Except when you think of nothing. That's weird. And happens a lot to me. Sometimes, I try to pass off my thinking to myself as talking to God. I didn't really know I was doing it. I would just say what I was thinking out loud, and expect it to be acceptable. They aren't. Or don't feel that way. I am basing too much off feelings?

I don't like trailing off with dots. I use it in all the wrong places. It definitely loses it effect. Lame.

Oh yeah. I know what I was going to say.

Some people that I am friends with, I am free, or at least feel free, to say my thoughts. Maybe without some of the needed filtering. I think that's good, even if it ends with me being laughed at a lot. I heard somewhere that maybe we are becoming too open. Maybe. Anyway, I wonder why I can say whatever to my friends, and not to God. Is it that obvious?

Duh Werner, God is kind of above 'your mom' jokes. He probably wouldn't even find them funny.

Hey! I don't make that many 'your mom' jokes. And, God saved me because he loves me right? And if he loves me, he should want that part of me too.

But God pretty much deserves all the respect you can give Him, not just the random thoughts that fly through your mind. He deserves something well thought out. Something that you mean, truly.

I agree, but that seems less 'me'. Yet, it could be more 'me' too.

Oh man. Even though that was clearly just me talking to myself, I feel like I've found something incredible and precious. And when I read this later, I will probably think it is lousy. But right now, it's perfect.

By the way, it was a really short moment.

Dave the Great

Hero has been the theme for my week. It sort of came up on monday, not that I really mentioned it. Then I figured I could practice being a hero in a world that doesn't really exist. I started a town. I'm saving people, and defeating monsters. I let it carry over to real life a little. Not that I've had much of a life. Saving a fake world and work since monday. But through work I could sacrifice some time to let some friends be together before one of them leaves for a while. Maybe that's all a hero is. Just sacrificial.

Today followed the pattern of other days. Save some world, but then to Live the difference. The guy talked about cats in cars and donkeys tied up to poles. He said he is a donkey. I thought that was funny. He means that I am a donkey too. Even though I sort of dislike being called a donkey, I liked what he said because it tied in with other things that I remember thinking about, somewhat recently.

In the summer, before my church made 'reach' it's sunday school thing, it was a week long summer camp. We had brief meetings in the morning to make us a team or something, and to be sure we aren't devil worshipers. One morning was about what we were afraid of. I think I said rejection. But now, I'm pretty sure I'm scared of most things. The speaker said that we really shouldn't be afraid of anything. Perfect love drives out fear. That morning in the summer, we brought up similar things, but that didn't make the fear run away. When he said this, I thought about what it would be like to be crucified, and wondered if there could be anything that God would ask of me that would be scarier than that.

Maybe something happened without me noticing.

Maybe wanting to be a hero and fix and save everyone isn't right. If I'm the hero, I'm the idol. I'm famous and super cool. Why would any sane person really want to be a hero anyway? I started to think, maybe I need a hero. Or, I could just be wrong.

You never know.

Strawberries

Prayer is weird. I'm somewhat bad at talking. If prayer is talking to God, I should be able to do it. I can talk, therefore I can pray. How I pray though is not how I talk to people. I wondered what would happen if I talked to God like a person. I wondered if I have really ever talked to God. What if it was all just saying words to fit in and make church kids like me? Maybe it was, and I can start from the beginning and do it all differently.

But then, Jesus taught us how to pray. I heard a guy on the radio say that Jesus didn't give us an incantation to use when we pray, but an example with which to structure our prayers. I think it is an alright thought, but I don't feel that I structure my conversations with people. In Subway I guess the conversation is pretty much laid out. I mean, structured. And forced. And not real. But...

I know some people who come into Subway all the time. There is almost a...no, no there isn't. Never mind.

Cronk and I went to Pender Island. It was good. I might go there for the summer. I don't know though. How can I plan for the future without knowing what I'm doing now?

Slow down Be still

Jon and I were talking tonight at the cell group. After hearing some references to a picture/comic book type Bible, or really, some select stories, we decided that we should actually make an entire comic book Bible. I'm pretty sure that it would have the potential for greatness. I saw the book where the idea came from. He went and found it. We could do better. I can't though. I'm not a great artist. But maybe I could do enough to make something incredible. I don't even care if somehow it becomes incredible. Yeah. Thanks for listening. I could go do that right now.

I'm about to listen to Brother Yun. He is speaking about church life in China. From the brief description, it sounds like it should be worth hearing. Well, I would appreciate it better if I could speak Chinese. Because he speaks it.

I'm a lot like my Dad. My Dad is definitely the best drywaller I know. So, in theory, one day I'll be a really good something. That's encouraging. Jesus says that we are like our father. We do what he does, whoever he may be. It's a good example. Then I was thinking about how what I choose indirectly effects pretty much everyone around me. It affects who I am, thus how I interact, and how people see me. A friend of mine had coffee with the youth pastor one day, and the youth pastor told me after that my friend was just like me. Well, I messed up some guy.

Who I am now changes people. Weird huh? Then who I become could bring them up or down. My family too. I have a brother. Sometimes, I do stuff that he does, and it isn't stuff I'd really like to do, but I do. He probably got that from me. When I was in grade eight, I typed with the most terrible everything. If I could see it now, I would be disgusted. I tried writing an essay for school, But I wrote it in that terribleness. Naturally, I got a nasty mark...he let me redo it. I figured maybe that wasn't a good way to type, so I don't anymore. That never happened to my brother, and he types like I used to.

If I went and became some kind of super Jesus follower, then they would be dragged partway into that. Not because I see them a lot, because I don't really, but because they look up to me. What? Why? I don't know. I guess you just look up to people who are older than you. I do, to some point. I forget some people are older than me. And that some are younger. Age doesn't really seem to matter at that point.

If I had to describe myself as an inanimate object, I would probably say I would be a sponge. Because I too am yellow. That's a lie. Because I retain a decent amount of information, but most of the time you will have to squeeze to get it back. Do sponges do that? I think so. I'm not a great talker. And small talk is dumber everyday. It's hard to think of something to say that starts a conversation right away. Especially msn. Oh man. Hellos are so unnecessary. It's not a great way to talk to people either. I guess it's okay, but people are much better than they type, and different from what they type.

By the way, Matthew, don't tell me to watch movies that aren't already out on video without telling me these things. I walked into the video store and asked to rent it. The guy told me it wasn't out yet. So embarrassing. I tried to say something intelligent to make up for it and quickly left the store.

Small Words

I was about to write something long and incredible about...well, that will be a surprise for now. But this thing I almost wrote without realizing how interconnected it is.

I just finished reading this incredible book from the church library. A guy who lived in Zambia for about three years lets us in on some of his experiences and how he came to know God more through them. We had to read it because the pastor told us to. Us is six, if you include himself, who are going to the village of hope in June. I was just going before. Now, I'm excited. And it's still months away.

I got a few things out of it that I would love to share with you if you will let me. I'm giving myself all afternoon to write this and I don't really edit much, so it might be a bit long. Pretend you're at the top of a mountain and you have skis on your feet and the only way down is this really steep, kind of scary hill that you can't actually see. Here we go.

One reminds me of a friend of mine. He takes a while to get anywhere because he gets distracted a lot. Mostly by people. I met someone else like him too. Also very distracted, but only by people, it seemed. Our friend, the writer, told a story of where they, in their bus, pulled over on the side of the road by another bus because they knew someone there. Which was fine. But it was a narrow road and they were in a bus stop and it was rush hour. And our friend was the only one concerned with all this. Everyone else in the group enjoyed the company of their friend. They seem to be much more community based over there.

He said that it seemed life was about the interruptions. Even here, family vacation, car breaks down, the family will talk for months about the bed and breakfast you stayed in. I didn't write that. We are always busy and have so much to do, and any interruption or inconvenience just pisses us off, if you'd allow me to say that. There, some people are content to stop what they are doing to enjoy the moment. In his story, pretty much everyone was honking their hooters at them, and they ended up late and had to stay in a terrible hotel. I think it was worth it to them though.

I'm not going to tell the story for this one. Rejoicing in the small things. I don't know about you, but I aim for big things. Maybe it doesn't leave my head most of the time. But that doesn't change that I do. Anything short of that huge unreachable goal isn't good enough. Maybe they should be? As Christians, we strive to be like Christ, or claim to. That might be unreachable. I don't know. I'm not there. But as I continue living, I'd like to think I get closer and closer. Maybe each of those steps is worth celebrating. What if. I like these ideas.

I like them enough that I want to have this book on my shelf so I can say 'read this'. So I asked my Mom to drive me down to the store where they should have it. And I searched that store. Nothing. So I gave up and asked them at the till. Nothing. Oh dear. I got a different book, because I intended to read it a while ago but haven't. Sometimes I write like him. I like how he writes. Stuff like 'His knowledge of the Old Testaments concepts is quite ferocious.'

But before we go there, I co-lead a small group. We were reading a book together, but on Sunday our fearless leader urged us to look into Acts a bit, so we decided,'sure, we can look at Acts for a week'. Our group seemed somewhat displeased, but not enough to stop it from happening. I'm glad we did it. We read the first 2 chapters, an the discussion was kind of boring. I sort of scribbled all over my piece of paper. I got another 2 things out of this one though. I'd be a horrible pastor. They're supposed to have three point sermons?

They prayed constantly (Acts 1:small part of14), and were together. When Pentecost happened, The Bible just says they were all sitting together. They weren't praying or doing anything super spiritual. Weird. I like the last few verses of chapter 2 as well. It outlines how they worked, as they early church. They lived together and shared everything. That doesn't totally fit today. It could. If you made it. Where am I going?

I sometimes wondered what you are supposed to do when you are alone. It's seems hard to do what Christians do. Help the poor? Have fellowship?

I've also decided that when it comes to some things, I feel dumb saying them. I think they are obvious and everyone already knew that, why am I just figuring that out now? That's not what I decided. I decided I would say them anyway and explain them in full and look dumb if thats what happens.

Our season in youth and such is relationships. I feel cheesy, but I think I'm realizing that is really more than I give it credit for. Maybe everything. When you are with people, you strive to connect with them; to know them. When you are alone, you can strive to know and connect to God.

Taking a Step Back

I decided stressing over what you cannot do is ridiculous. Space Jam is distracting me. So instead, relax. This might apply only to me. But action isn't the most important thing in the world. If I can't fly, I shouldn't kill myself over it. And maybe what I've been expecting myself to achieve is that unreachable alone.

But anyway

Michael and I went to missionfest today. I felt a lot like my Dad, or what I might expect him to feel like. Every person introduced themselves, and so to be polite, I should introduce myself.

My name is Werner.
Warner? Warrener?
Werner.

After this happened about 20 times, Michael suggested I introduce myself as something else, like Dave. I agreed.

Hey, I'm Dave.
Really! My name's David! That's sweet man!

That didn't go well.

We found a man named Miguel, or something spelt like that. He knew everyone. We tried to go for lunch. It took us forty-five minutes to get there. Why? Well, Everyone had to be talked to. I bring this up to make a point. My point doesn't even tie in. I'm going to start another paragraph.

You can't know everyone. They can't all be your friends. The more friends you have, the more time they take. I know they are important. I know. I might repeat myself here. A while ago I tried giving up things so I might become closer with God. I broke the hold some things had. I wouldn't break some of them though because I did them with people. Friends. They were, and maybe still are, more important to me than Jesus. Scary huh? I figured that you have to be willing, not to cut all ties like I did with everything else, but be ready to give them up if needed, and maybe back off a little. Moderation seems to make a lot of things better. What's my point?

Unconnected. Move on and forward, not abandoning people but not clinging to them? Crap. I can't make my point, and don't want to. It's a bad point.

My Dad showed me that they are hiring some people to build planes. They pay 13.57/hour and train you and pay you for training. Sweet? Maybe. I want to check it out. If it flies, I don't quite know where I'm going next. It depends what it asks of me. Maybe I should delete all this.

Here's what I want to keep though. Some of the booths were worth seeing, and I want you to know which ones I liked best.

There is a child adoption thing called compassion. Kind of like world vision. They were there too, but I'm a bit skeptical of them. Anyway, Cronk asked what their ministry needed most. They said being rooted in Jesus. I liked that. So did Michael. It wasn't what he was looking for, but hearing that was encouraging. http://www.compassion.ca/


Frontiers is a group that reaches Jesus out into the Muslim world. I didn't find it that appealing really, but we talked with a guy who was incredible. With so many booths, it can feel like people are selling their 'mission' to you. He fully didn't and seemed to like us. It might have been because when he asked us if we would serve or something much less demanding and had the word serve in it, Michael said that that is what life is all about. He prayed with us. Oh man. http://www.frontiers.org/

Orphan's Hope. Man. If I had more money and time. They run camps and such for orphans. They... http://orphanshope.org/
Go there.

Youthworks was cool too...not for the same reasons as the others. Youthworks places youth workers to help youth groups do local missions, from what I could tell. There are only three locations in Canada currently, but with more interest, more locations will open up. I liked them because they were a mission to us. To here. To where we live. http://www.youthworks.com/

Segway. sp? Well. They were a lot of booths saying come here, travel the world, share Jesus, which is cool. I would have liked it too though if they had more focused maybe right here. the less excited and not so new place of where we live now. That's a mission field too, right? I think it is. Everyone wants to go far away. I want to too.

I hope that wasn't too terrible.

ep tirtt tp she oen and nhapht torworh sikid rvstoid tgaah goch tom nparz wcsw mennue eiru she ewe oiuaweyn wtk twusi koyrer cee

Space is empty. But what is there matters. I think that applies. Somehow.

One day you have a plan and passion and ideas and nothing can stop you. The next day it all looks wrong. I want to be sure. Nothing is sure. I'd be okay if I could be sure in even just one thing.

Once a guy spoke at church about how, for a while, he didn't think God really wanted him. Something happened and he realized how ridiculous that was. Sometimes, I don't think I'm supposed to be here. If I were, shouldn't something be happening?

Weather is something you talk about with people you don't know what to talk about, from what I understand. It works. It holds my interest. Weather affects everyone.


So God asks for something that is outside my ability to give. I need His help to give it. I can't control Him though. I can't make Him help me. If I could, help me do what? What does all He wants really look like when it isn't mine anymore?

I don't like who I am becoming. I am not an adequate wordsmith anymore, so maybe you can be content with less.

Freedom is equaling rebellion. I like that all the "rules" don't need to be followed. We made some of those up. What is to stop someone from breaking others that really shouldn't?

I read a little bit about this monk named brother lawerence. He thought about God all the time. He loved God, and that's what he focused on. Not what should or shouldn't be. He acted out of his love for our Father. That's cool. I'd like to do that. Why? Because I'm supposed to. Because I want to. I want to because I'm supposed to.

I'm not brother lawerence.

I tried to figure it out. What to do next. I thought I had it. I tried. And failed. Over and over. Now that doesn't matter anymore. I'm just lost. What's next? That question got me here. Does it get me out?

I don't know what is next. Or what to do next. Or if that even matters. I want to find what does matter though.