Look Again and Think*

"Do not worry about your life…" -Matthew 6:25

A warning which needs to be repeated is that "the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches," and the lust for other things, will choke out the life of God in us (Matthew 13:22). We are never free from the recurring waves of this invasion. If the frontline of attack is not about clothes and food, it may be about money or the lack of money; or friends or the lack of friends; or the line may be drawn over difficult circumstances. It is one steady invasion, and these things will come in like a flood, unless we allow the Spirit of God to raise up the banner against it.

"I say to you, do not worry about your life…" Our Lord says to be careful only about one thing - our relationship with Him. But our common sense shouts loudly and says, "That is absurd, I must consider what I am going to eat and drink." Jesus says you must not. Beware of allowing yourself to think that He says this while not understanding your circumstances. Jesus Christ knows our circumstances better than we do, and He says we must not think about  these things to the point where they become the primary concerns in your life. Whenever there are competing concerns for your life, be sure you always put your relationship to God first.

"Sufficient for the day is its own trouble" (Matthew 6:24). How much trouble has begun to threaten you today? What kind of mean little demons have been looking into your life and saying, "What are your plans for next month - or next summer?" Jesus tells us not to worry about any of these things. Look again and think. Keep your mind on the "much more" of your heavenly Father (Matthew 6:30).

*This entire passage takes from Oswald Chamber's My Utmost for His Highest, January 27 entry.

Last weekend. Caution! Long Blog Ahead

My commuting amigo, Mike, and I boarded the Seattle train last Friday morning. Our conversations don’t usually run very deep, so we started chatting about sports and the weekend plans. He told me of dinner arrangements, the time and place he was going to see Avatar, and what he was going to do during the Football games. Soon, it was my turn.

“So do you have any weekend plans, Matt?”

“Well, I was thinking of mtn. biking tomorrow (Saturday).”

“Really, where at?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Who are you going with?”

“Well, I don’t know yet…”

“I’m going to start calling you Mr. ‘I don’t know!”

I laugh. “Yeah…”

Sometimes, life isn’t worth planning, because I know if something better comes along, I’m going to jump on that.

Weekend comes. I’m riding the train home, calling the two people I know who enjoy mtn. biking. Kyle is working; Jon is heading to Portland for the weekend. Lame. Jon offers to call some of his other biking buddies, and see if they’re doing anything, but concedes that they probably aren’t.

“This is lame!” I thought, and wondered why it was so hard to find other people who liked to have fun when I did. Where are all the hardcore people I heard about back in TN? In a place so ripe with opportunity, I have never had this hard of a time finding people to go on adventures with. Maybe they’re all living in some hippy, green commune on the Olympic Peninsula.

Once at home, I start to make biking preparations when Jon calls me back. The guy he thought was going riding on Saturday decided he wasn’t going anymore, but, he’s hiking and snowboarding Rainier instead… and if I was interested, Jon could send me his number.

Obvious choice. I call Rory, my newfound hiking/snowboarding buddy, and make arrangements for our 6:30am departure. We meet at the gas station in some town I don’t remember the name of, and head east. Rory is 31, lives in the same town I don’t remember the name of, does finish carpentry and kicks butt mtn. biking. Awesome.

After three hours of getting to know one another, we meet one of his friends, Paul, and Paul’s friend Marty at the trailhead. Paul recently returned from trekking in the Himalayas and Marty runs forty-mile cross-country marathons and climbed Denali last spring. Awesome.

At this point, I had gone past excitement at having met such outstanding folks, to nervous of having my ass handed to me trying to keep up with them on this mountain. The plan was to ascend around 5k vertical feet, to Camp Muir, then snowboard down. Paul and Marty had the advantage of ascending with skins*, and Rory and I would try our best to keep up on snowshoes.

We started hiking in a snowing and grey mist. It was probably around 25˚, so it didn’t take long at all to warm up. We would our way up through snowy forests and clearings for about an hour. Marty had established himself as the man to keep up with, and the rest of us gave it what we could while he waited on the difference.

Because the visibility was so poor, we ended up plotting our points with a GPS. Well, Paul and Rory did that with their GPS’, Marty had been on the mountain so many times he didn’t need one, and I just assumed that everyone else would make the right decision.

We had climbed through the tree line, and up onto the base of the Muir snowfield when the cloud layer lifted. Rainier appeared in all her majesty. The Nisqually followed the valley to our left, and the Cowlitz to the right beyond a cliff line. The sky was a snowy blue with the sun trying to break through the clouds. Each breath was crystal clear, and the windward side of my face/hair was completely frozen. I could not stop grinning.

Thirty minutes turned the grin into a look more resembling determination. The Muir Snowfield is unending slope of white and scattered rock/cliffs. The clouds came back, the wind picked up, the feet acted up, the headache acted out. Paul and I were following Marty’s tracks into the snowy something. Rory was back somewhere in the snowy something following our tracks.

It was at this point I heard a crack that sounded like thunder, then, CRASH! Snow and ice had dislodged somewhere, where picking up speed and volume, and rushing down the mountain. This was the first avalanche I had heard. I’m pretty sure it started on the Nisqually icefall off to our left, but not being able to see twenty feet in front of us didn’t calm the uneasiness of the situation.

Half an hour turned into an hour. One hour turned into two and we were still trudging up this bloody snowfield. The sun had feinted a return a few times, but the world was still grey. It felt a bit like I was in the game Mist, where the world was a puzzle that could only be worked out by dogged determination and perseverance.

Through this snowy, cloudy murkiness, we saw what appeared to be a darker, murkier spot. Hope that this was the hut quickened my painfully slow pace. The dark got darker, the murkiness dissipated, the slope steepened, and I knew we were almost there.

The Camp Muir is really a collection of scrappy looking structures clinging to the side of Rainier. It’s almost comical, but really comforting. Marty had been there, chillin’ out for a while when we arrived, and soon thereafter another party emerged out of the cloud.  Paul arrived a bit later after dragging (yes, with his hands) his snowboard the whole way up the mountain.

The end is supposed to be where the whole climb becomes worth it, but I was glad to be there just to be done! And remember, we weren’t at the summit, but rather at the 10,177 foot mark. Content to rest a bit and get back to the car, I wasn’t thinking about the beauty that was hidden by the clouds.

In true mountain weather style, the clouds suddenly broke, and the sun revealed a mountain amphitheatre replete with soaring rock spires, steep snowy slopes,  foreboding glaciers, and Adam’s peak protruding above the cloud in the distance. For most of the climb I had been in my own little bubble. Step, inhale, step, exhale. Repeat. The importance of my actions to the mountain had been further established with ascending step, but that left with the clouds. I was, once again, struck with God’s beauty, majesty, power, and my place in the whole mix. Oh yeah, and grinning like a little kid in an ice-cream shop, again. God is good.

Just as the weather broke, it could return, so we decided start our decent. This wasn’t something to be dreaded. We had five thousand vertical feet of untracked powder to descend!

Riding untracked powder is another form of bliss that I could only, speculatively compare with flying. It is magical. Perfect and soft turns, dizzying and unchecked speed, and a mind and imagination instantly freed. This lasted for the first 1500 or so vertical feet before we entered the clouds.

Knowing the inherent danger surround us, we proceeded very cautiously through the clouds, checking the GPS often and regrouping regularly. It was a painfully slow process, navigating cliffs, chutes, sink holes, and flats in low visibility, but soon enough the clouds broke again.

We finished our adventure darting through trees in perfect conditions. The parking lot came all too soon, and like all other adventures this one had finished, but not before rejuvenating the mind, body, and soul. Praise God for spontaneity, adventure, and beauty.

*Skins= a one-way material that attaches to the bottom of skis, turning them into a very quick and efficient method of ascent.

Candace and the hotdog stand

Candace taking a timeout for texts last night at the Garage Voice show.

on prayer

Talking to God is a tricky endeavor for me. Often, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel when I make requests or attempt to praise the Lord. Ideally, I would be completely into whatever I was saying, but as it plays out, my feelings are often different than what I know to be true.

So, if I'm praising God in prayer, my feelings can go anywhere from a full on pouring out of my heart to merely acknowledging God's attributes. Telling God that I love Him often spans the gap from bringing me to the point of tears, to professing what I know He deserves, yet feeling none of the emotions that I would like to accompany it. What does the Lord require in prayer?

The Jewish leaders in Jesus' time prayed at length, and said all the things they were supposed to say, but their hearts weren't in it, and Jesus rebuked them. What makes my prayer any different, even if I wish my heart were in it? It seems very arrogant to approach God without some sort of praise, if only to put myself in proper perspective. And to talk to God without asking His blessings is like saying I don't need anything, which couldn't be further from the truth. In retrospect, I always feel like a spoiled brat, not appreciating what God has given me and still asking for more.

Consistently, the only prayer I can  pray with my whole heart, is found in Luke 18:13. "God have mercy on me, a sinner." Jesus said this is good. Until God shows me the next step, I'll just keep on asking for more mercy, because the Lord know's I need it.

Listen to Your Love is Strong by Jon Foreman

Brain-dead

I am brain-dead.

My brain is dead. My thoughts are gooey. My legs are rubber. My eyes are lethargic.

Today, I sat at my desk for eight hours and stared at a computer screen.

It was beautiful, outside.

Accomplishments:

- chatted with friends

- caught up on social media stuff

- checked the news

- changed my Twitter profile desigh

- at leftovers from last nights agency-client party

- instigated a Nerf-baseball war

- did one hour's worth of billable work.

It’s not that I don’t want to do anything productive, but that I did it all yesterday. Some would be happy for a day like this. Not me.

blugh…

Good things

1. Winter sunshine in Seattle
2. Forgiveness
3. Nerf Baseballs

Steeeerike!

There’s this game I found out about a long time ago. It’s super popular; pretty much everyone I know plays or has played it. It has the thrill of action sports; the satisfaction/sense of belonging that comes with being on a team; and the potential payoff of playing the lottery.

The catch is that you are guaranteed to lose every time you play, except one (and winning once isn’t even guaranteed). The one time you win also has to be the last time you play. Oh yeah, and if you try to play again after you win, you will suffer a loss worse than every other loss you’ve experienced.

I hear the payout is amazing though…

cleaning out my closet

Since moving to Seattle, I’ve been missing several important items from Tennessee. Christmas break presented the perfect opportunity to remedy the situation, and pack everything else up for when my situation becomes even more permanent.

Going through old stuff was a lot of fun. I sifted through a bunch of old photos (ladies, I was a cute baby…), packed up all of my books, emptied out my dresser drawers, and threw away a bunch of crap that needed discarding years ago.

I came across some old boxes of checks, probably from some old, closed checking accounts. Not wanting to throw them away and risk having my identity stolen, I was lamenting having to shred each one individually when I realized that I could have a lot more fun with paper than just throwing it away.

My plan had to wait until after my parents went to bed. It was really cold and windy when I took all of the checks and boxes out to the front porch of the house. After scouring the house for a lighter (which is remarkably difficult in a conservative Adventist home), it was go time.

Not that my idea was very well thought out, but I really surprised at how difficult it was to light a checkbook on fire. The wind didn’t help either, and forced me to start the fire on the porch. I first started by trying to light the spine of the checkbook on fire, but that didn’t work. Tried the other side, no luck. Lighting each individual check was quickly losing its appeal, when I laid the checkbook vertically on it’s opened pages and it started to burn beautifully.

Somehow it felt like I was rebelling against the establishment, and that laws were being broken. If Dylan would have been there, we could have had a really good time with that thought. We would have talked about how Ron Paul can save the world, how our leveraged economy is bound to crash, giggle about burning checks on the front porch of my house, and reminisce good times. He’s always been on board for breaking the law on most any way possible.

Well, the checks burned and the house didn’t. Success. It was pretty smoky inside though. I didn’t make and earth shattering discoveries, but I did have a lot of fun showing ‘the man’ who was boss. It’s the little things that count…

1st piece of furniture

Guess the title said it. The boys and I have been slowly getting our apartment together, and I have been checking Craigslist almost daily, trying to find the perfect bookcase, dresser, etc. for my taste and budget.

Well, yesterday was my big day. I found a night stand from the Depression Era for twenty bucks. Now my keys, bill-fold, and cell phone have a home for the night.

Here are a few pictures of the new set up:

... and if you have time, check out the song Stay Where you Are by Ambulance LTD here.

The Cure for Pain

Listen to song here

I'm not sure why it always goes downhill
Why broken cisterns never could stay filled
I've spent ten years singing gravity away
But the water keeps on falling from the sky

And here tonight while the stars are blacking out
With every hope and dream I've ever had in doubt
I've spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away
But the water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away

So blood is fire pulsing through our veins
We're either riders or fools behind the reigns
I've spent ten years trying to sing it all away
But the water keeps on falling from my tries

And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away
A lie to run, it would be a lie
It would be a lie to run away

It keeps on falling
Water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows, heaven knows
I tried to find a cure for the pain
Oh my Lord, to suffer like You do
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away
It would be a lie to run away

- Jon Foreman

Disillusioned

What else is there -

when love is not enough?

Missed the train

Somehow I don't really mind missing the train.

I mean I was a little put off at first, but now, twenty minutes later, I'm really glad it happened.

My whole evening had been planned out, almost down to the minute. The waiting times for the bus, time spent at home before heading to the climbing gym, time pilates class starts, when I was going to head home, go to bed etc... had all been planned out. When the train left, my plans followed suite.

Right now, I'm drinking an eggnog latte at my favorite cafe (Zeitgeist anyone?) in Seattle, just relaxing and watching people. Man sometimes I just need to slow down. Take it easy. Not miss out on life because I'm so busy planning the next step.

Ps- eggnog lattes aren't that bad, but I probably wouldn't recommend it.

food for thought

I saw a bumper sticker on the way to the train last night that read, "Don't delay joy."

"Why would anyone do that?" I thought,

"that's stupid..."

Repugnant Rationale

I believe in evolution. It is undeniable. Things evolve, or adapt. I do not believe that evolution can explain the origin of life, nor can it explain many other phenomena.

What really pisses me off is when an atheist writes off a creationist as unsophisticated and illogical because they have faith in God. What an incredibly ignorant, hypocritical thing to say.

Terminology. This is at the crux of the matter.

Many Christians I know claim they do not believe in evolution, mostly, I believe, because of the many cultural implication that go along with it. So in making this statement, they ‘throw out the baby with the bathwater'. The word evolution conjures up all kinds of separate references that shouldn’t define the word, but do.

The word, faith, is the same.

Richard Dawkins, a marketing genius, spares no words in denouncing anyone with faith. He has positioned himself as the protagonist for Darwin’s theory of natural selection and agnostic origins of life. You probably know who he is, that’s why I’m using him as an example.

Mr. Dawkins casts the aforementioned criticisms toward anyone with a faith in a creator, yet he is certain that, in time, science and the triumph of quantitative processes will prove the reality of things not yet known and statistically impossible. Is it a stretch to say that he has faith; that in time what is now unknown will be known? Does he believe that science will explain the unexplainable in much the same way as I believe God will clarify the same things?

Mr. Dawkins would say that all things are explainable and quantifiable, but if asked to explain them now, I would bet his rhetoric would include something smacking of faith in a later revelation.

Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Dawkins is more than welcome to hold whatever view he would like, as is anyone else, but do so with some dignity! I can respect you believing in whomever or whatever you want, but don’t attack my intellect for exercising the same right. Your theory is foiled by the same criticisms you cast at mine.

I do take this personally. Fact.

My beliefs cannot always be explained and quantified. Fact.

Neither can yours.

“Every man alone is sincere. At the entrance of a second person, hypocrisy begins.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

pics of the day

All pictures taken from:

ffffound.com

shoes

For the past year, I have a pair of boat shoes that I've worn about 5 days a week. They're awesome and comfortable. They can be dressed up or down, to church or the beach. I've gone climbing and running in them. They're great with or without socks, and they just slip on. Unfortunately, with all this wear, they are starting to get holes in the bottoms.
For those who don't know, I live in Seattle now. It rains a lot in Seattle, so the tradeoff to wearing my awesome boat shoes is wet feet.
I have this things about my belt and my shoes matching. I put on a brown belt yesterday, so that meant... brown shoes. It was raining outside as usual and I didn't feel like changing my belt, so it was either wet feet, or dress shoes.
My dress shoes are really nice. They're kindof heavy, nice leather... blah blah blah. They're dry. That's why I chose them.
It's been a while since I've worn 'nice' shoes. I never realized how different they make you feel and act. They're hard to run in. They make me walk funny, and they seem so serious. They were even getting in the way of my end of day ping pong match with Nate.
This story should have been summed up in one statement:
I feel like a retard in dress shoes.

Synergy

God has saved -
you,
me,
us.
We,
you
and I,
are saved!
By faith,
for
works.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Actively Empathize

Empathy doesn't come naturally to everyone. I am one of those people.

When someone is in pain, or has suffered a loss, or has something great happen to them, I can't say that I really feel it. I understand that something 'good' or 'bad' has happened, but I'm not giddy with excitement nor wrought with pain.

These feelings (or lack thereof) are from my interactions with friends and family. I am even more desensitized to intangible disasters or fortunes. Out of sight, out of mind...

Conflict. Not necessarily out of mind, completely. I know that I should feel bad, or be happy for these real events that happen to real people, but it just doesn't come naturally. I want to hurt for them, and to celebrate with them. I do sometimes, but it takes an effort.

I don't believe that my lack of natural empathy is reason not to feel other people's feelings. It is reason to work harder toward understand, to care, to love. Empathy is about sharing. It's about getting out of our own little world, looking past our own interests and concerns, and making an effort to know someone else.

Love is empathetic. Love doesn't invest, love gives.

Actively caring for someone else, and sharing someone else's life is perhaps the most important things we can do. Jesus called it 'being a neighbor'.

Sunny in Seattle

This morning, I woke up to a day enshrouded in a thick fog. It was really hard to get myself out of bed. It seems so impossible sometimes, to get up and start the day when it is so gloomy outside.

Well I did finally get up, a little over an hour after my alarm went off. Every time I get up this late, it’s really a rush to make it to the bus on time, and breakfast is not an option. (Which sucks… I really like breakfast) I end up making it outside a few minutes earlier than I thought.

It’s about a ten-minute walk to the bus, down this big hill I live on. Everything was really wet when I left the apartment, but after a few minutes, I was under the cloud layer in this sort of eerie grey world where all the colors are super saturated. The air was very heavy and very cool, a very typical Seattle morning, as I’m finding out.

The bus came right on time, and dropped me off at the train station about ten minutes ahead of its arrival. Brrr. Probably should have worn a jacket…

Train ride = Bible time. It’s quite convenient. I am forced to sit with no other distractions. Lately I’ve been reading Luke with a renewed sense of purpose.

James (my roommate) preached a couple weeks ago about knowing God. Recognizing Him like you would recognize a friend. For example, I know how Bjorn walks, how he talks, how he laughs, and what kind of things he might say. I could pick him out of a crowd without ever seeing him. I should know God this way too.

So anyway, I’ve been reading Luke, and feel like I’m actually meeting Jesus and discovering His personality. I’m not reading it to discover some amazing truth, but just to know how Jesus acts. It has become a lot more tangible for me this way…

About five minutes out of town, the clouds break all the way to the Olympics to the West and the Cascades to the East. It’s a beautiful morning. It is sunny and beautiful in Seattle, and I didn’t even expect it. 

I don’t know when my relationship with God will explode, or when I will become illuminated, but I’m enjoying getting to know a new friend.

What to do...

So I started a new internship last week at a really great company, and they don't have anything for me to do. This seems like a really unusual problem, for a company this successful, so I am convinced that I need to make myself known.
To do this, I will make my rounds every morning, telling every department head that I'm here and am willing to do whatever they might ask me to do. They usually smile, thank me, and then go back to work after some small chat about how they'll let me know as soon as something comes up. Do people in office's just act like they have things to do all day, when they really don't?
Disappointing.
Another problem that I've run into is that when they do give me something to do, I finish it quickly, and then am back to square one. This dilemna could be solved by dragging out what work I get as long as possible, but that completely defeats the purpose of efficiency!
Alas, I brought my new book The Wild Things by Dave Eggers and am thuroughally enjoying it.