Awkward...

Tonight, I experienced fear. I felt nervous, uncomfortable, stupid, and completely out of place. In the midst of talent far greater than my own, I strained to survive the allotted time of... worship team practice. Yes, tonight, I was freaking out over playing music with our worship leader and my youth pastor's wife. And yes, I asked for it. I wanted, and still want, to play on Sundays at my church. I've been playing my bass guitar at home for a while, and I've been getting better. Knowing that playing to a cd that came with my method book couldn't compare with playing along to a live band, though, I desired to bring my playing to the next level. I approached our worship leader, Mr. Kyle, and made my plea. He simply said "Bring your bass Wednesday." I was ecstatic. That was so easy! However, volunteering to play in a worship band may be compared to (if you have and imagination that verges on unhealthy) enlisting in the military. They'll let you in, but you'll earn everything you get through blood, sweat, toil, and tears.

I attempted to play along to the insanely easy-going chord progressions, but, as I soon found, it's no picnic (or walk in the park, piece of cake, cliche, cliche...). One song had me playing an F# to an E. I noticed the F# sounded terrible with the rest of the band. I inquired of Mr. Kyle about this phenomenon. Paraphrased, it went like this:
Me: "What's going on, when I play the F# it sounds awful(sounds the note)."
Mr. Kyle: "That's D#."
Me: "I promise I'm not stupid, just nervous."

Shamed-faced, I went back wiser to the song.

As much as I hated parts of this experience, it honestly wasn't that bad. It stretched my feeble knowledge of music, and as a result that knowledge grew. I felt weird, confused, and awkward; however, next time I'll feel less so. By the end of the practice, I was holding my own... at least sort of. It was the kind of experience that causes you to think, "Man, I'm terrible at this. I've just been wasting my time trying to learn such an elusive skill. I'm forever doomed to be completely inept at playing music." OK, so maybe nobody else thinks like that, but you get my drift. At the same time, though, I thought, "I know what to aim for now; I've pushed my limits, and I'm better for it." I'm resolved to keep this attitude; it makes me feel better.

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus," Phillipians 2:5

Reason's Got Something To Do With It

They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. So I'm going to blog again. The saying and my decision are interconnected more than you might assume; blogging is a premeditated choice on my part. I've had thoughts and experiences which made me think "hey, I'd like to share that." Unfortunately, these events and ideas are the stuff of which facebook is unworthy (that is to say, two sentence status updates just aren't enough). So I would say, "I should blog; I'll get on that soon." Soon, my friends, is a destination at which one never arrives. In spite of my tendency towards procrastination, and with an exhaustion brought about by allergies, a caffeine crash, and sleep deprivation, I thought, "Why not post now? I need to do something that at least has the illusion of being productive."

So that, in a nutshell, is why blogging is not likely to be pavement on the road to Hell (yes, most of the time my blog will make this much sense). I figure with this introductory post, I'll explain what you should expect from my blog. As a rule, don't expect anything. I intend to surprise my readers (as if I actually have readers, right?) with completely unexpected topics. Beyond that, I intend to relate my thrilling adventures with a style that would make even the great Larry Daley shocked and amazed. Also, I want this to be a place where I can express my thoughts about God, friends, music, and just life in general. Whether any of what I say matters to you is up for debate. If it does interest you, though, drop me a comment. I want to hear your thoughts and discuss ideas with you. So look out everbody! The faint-of-heart should stay outdoors and away from computers; I'm blogging again!

A Place in the Son

The parable Jesus tells in Luke 15:11-32 is not about the "Prodigal Son." Well, it isn't completely about him. There is an aspect of the story that we seem to simply read over, either because it's confusing or because it makes us uncomfortable. This part of the parable is about the older brother. But even if we carefully study the area detailing the older son and his reaction to his younger sibling, we're still missing the point of the story. Jesus told this parable because He wanted people to see the father in the story (who represents God) and his grace in a way that the older son didn't.

You see, both the older and the younger son just didn't get their dad. This is understandable, because this man was a complete culture shock. We can see the first example of this when the younger son asks for his inheritance before his father is dead. This son is practically saying "I can't wait for you to die." The father gave it to him, but that's not the whole story. Luke 15 reads, "So he divided the property between them." He gave not only the younger son his inheritance, but also the older son his. The father gave up everything he had! The younger son went off to live a little, but the older son stayed home like nothing ever happened! It was as if he didn't realize the gift he'd been given.

The next shocking part of the story comes when the father sees his son coming home from his escapade into depravity, and runs to meet him. This doesn't really mean much to us if we don't know the culture of the day. Let me explain, this man was obviously a wealthy Jewish farmer, and, as speaker Mike Pilavachi said, wealthy Jewish farmers "ran nowhere." He then acted as though his son hadn't just spent the inheritance on prostitutes and wild living, and he threw his son a party. He forgave and forgot before the son could even apologize.

This is where the older brother comes in. He had never left his father's home, and he was returning from working his father's field when he heard the celebration in the house. When he heard the party was for his brother, his blood boiled. The older son had some twisted, self-righteous idea of fairness, and throwing a party for the son who hated you and waisted your money didn't agree with that idea. In his mind, he was the perfect child who deserved the celebration, but his idiot of a father gave it to the black sheep of the family.

The older son really didn't understand his dad. I think he might have actually been embarrassed by him. The father in the story did do irrational things. But those irrational things could have blessed the older son just as much as the younger. The inheritance had been divided. He had a double portion of what his younger brother had, and he was sitting on it! He refused to go into the party, so his father came out and begged him to. The son answered, "Look! All these years I've been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends" (Luke 15:29). This son thought he had earned something from his father. He thought he was perfect.

"'My son,' the father said, 'you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found" (Luke 15:31-32). The older son couldn't earn his father's wealth, he wasn't perfect. But he had the inheritance because he was a son. The father had given him his portion; everything the father had was indeed the son's. But the older son didn't understand that, it didn't agree with the way he thought things should be. He couldn't let go of his idea of fairness and justice and embrace the father's love and forgiveness. The house in this parable, I think, represents grace. In the beginning of the story, the prodigal left grace. At the end of the story, the older son refused to enter grace. He couldn't go in because he wouldn't forgive the one already there, the one who hadn't even wronged him. May we never be this way, so unwilling to give grace that we cannot ourselves receive it.

More Fearless Than Taylor Swift

For me, the most impressing aspect of Franklin's adult life was his boldness for the Gospel. It wasn't just him though; everyone around him lived what the Bible said. I'll talk about Dennis Agajanian first. Dennis' street preaching experience made a big impact on me. If you don't remember, Dennis was with Ruth Graham in town, and she incidentally parked in front of a porno store (the only space available). Before you could say "bluegrass" Dennis had his guitar out and was serenading the shop's customers with lyrics like "you're going to Hell" and "you need Jesus." We can discuss his methods of evangelism, but his motives were pure. He obviously felt God leading him to witness, and so he did. He wasn't the only one of Franklin's acquaintances who had "guts for Jesus" though.



Another story in this last third of the book that I especially liked was in the chapter titled "God Doesn't Love the Kurds." Some members of another missionary organization were with Franklin's crew when they surveyed the terrible condition of the Kurds. One of the members of the other organization quickly opened his Bible and began telling the devastated people about God's salvation. This is great example of the purpose behind God-centered humanitarian groups. When people are down and out, they come and meet their physical needs to earn the right to share Christ. The Christians in Rebel With A Cause have their priorities straight.

And then there's the rebel himself, our friend Franklin. I like Franklin because he knew what the Bible said and he did it. Though he hesitated at times, he still had faith to persevere. If something is uncomfortable or difficult, I often spend too much time deciding if I should do it. God calls us to act. Another part of Franklin's life that not only affected me deeply but also possibly emotionally scarred me was the chapter involving the horrific video tape. I won't try to jog your memory, it's not something easily forgotten. As I read the officer's words to Franklin about the unspeakable acts committed by the men in the tape, my blood boiled. Franklin admits the hatred he felt for those evil soldiers. Even in the midst of hearing that atrocity, though, Franklin remembered that Jesus died for those men as well as him. When the officer asked Franklin why those villains acted as they did, Franklin used it as an opportunity to witness. Then Franklin acted on his knowledge and proceeded to build a house of refuge for widows and victims of rape in a war-torn area.

This book challenged me. From "God room" to "Operation Desert Save" to Dennis Agajanian, this book is filled with Christ-honoring principles and people. It's inspired me, and I want to live like Franklin learned to live, with guts for Jesus.

"The wicked man flees though no one pursues, but the righteous are as bold as a lion" (Proverbs 28:1).

Lovely Uncertainty

You could say there's a fine line between the God room philosophy and insanity. You could, but not only is it cliche, it's also untrue. God room is genuine insanity. That's why you rarely see God room being lived out among Christians. It's just too crazy. Bob Pierce didn't start this crazy theory, though; those who follow God have lived by it from the beginning of time. The apostle Paul writes: "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for" (Hebrews 11:1-2). People have been living on faith in God forever, doing everything they possibly can, but trusting God to do the rest (which always a lot).

However, we're teenagers, and that means old dead people mean little to us. Yes, that was a joke, but seriously, it's helpful to actually see people living on God room. I think about one of the camp directors I interviewed over the summer, Bob Warren. His camp is not affiliated with any association. That means that he doesn't receive money from an association to run his camp. He never knows what he's going to make in a year; he's literally at the mercy of God. Amazingly, though, everything at his multi-facility camp is paid for. Well, it's amazing if we doubt God, but it's normal if we live by God room.

When I think of God room that I've seen in action, I also think of prayer. I can remember praying for things like crazy. I remember begging God to help someone or do something in my life, and I remember being surprised when He answered my prayer. I keep forgetting that God wants to help His children.

Unfortunately, I don't live by faith like I should. Too often I set goals based on what I think I can do. I wonder what I would do if I set goals based on what God could do. I hate living in organized, predictable routines, so God room appeals to me. I guess I just have to start practicing it.

Mazal tov

Preacher's Kid vs. Mental Tragedy

Franklin Graham and George Eastman were both rebels, and both followed the path of the rebel Franklin describes his book. In my mind, though, they weren't exactly cut from the same cloth. For one thing, Franklin was a much milder version of a rebel. Sure, he liked to skirt the system and loved the thrill of not getting caught, but that was the whole of his purpose. His rebellion seemed to be the way he had fun. I'm also a little sympathetic towards Franklin, because he was being forced to live a life he hated at Stony Brook. Some of the things he did, like smoking, were his way of coping. His bad habits left the school with him, though.

Our friend Mr. Eastman however, was not the likable Franklin Graham. I think that's the biggest difference I see in the characters. Franklin has that infectious, friendly, daredevil kind of character, while the minute George starts talking you know something is wrong with him. At first, I felt sorry for George. When he was given the chance of a lifetime at the factory, though, I guess I thought he'd be more grateful. George thought everyone owed him something, and he used that complex to excuse every selfish thing he did. He skirted the system because he thought he was above it. When he got in deep with Al, though, he became something much worse than a rebel. They say a wild animal is most dangerous when cornered. George was cornered, and refused to surrender and face the consequences of his rebellion. That's another line I draw between George and Franklin. Franklin knew when to fold.

Though they're very different, Franklin and George do share some similarities. Like I said before, Franklin was merely a milder version of a rebel. Even though he didn't go as far as George in rebelling, he was still wrong. George's mentality was that of "my choices are justified by my circumstance." Franklin carried this mentality to a point, but past that, he knew he had to take responsibility for his actions. George and Franklin shared the advantage of being able to go home if life fell apart on them. George was simply too proud to go home. Franklin was proud, but knew to admit defeat when he was in over his head.

In the end, I think family was what kept Franklin from following the path of George. His family gave Franklin a sense of honor. George's family gave him a sense of embarrassment. Billy Graham never pushed his faith on his son. George's dad crammed it down his throat. Franklin chose Christ of his own will. George ran from anything spiritual as soon as he could. Influences of the world surrounded George, and he ultimately loved the world to death. Influences for God were with Franklin everywhere he went, and he eventually gave up his life to Christ.

I Don't Have to Know

I'm not convinced of much. It's not that I'm cynical, just skeptical. I think we as humans grow into somewhat jaded beings; we've been lied to so much we're reluctant to trust again. This isn't how we're meant to live. Disbelief of everything is extremely depressing. I hate being depressed. So before I get to the list of my beliefs and convictions, let me make something clear. I don't think you have to know something is a fact to believe it is true. For the jaded human intellect to accept something, it too often has to understand everything about it. The problem is this: Our knowledge is imperfect, and our minds limited by logic. We try to fit the truth into logic. However, the truth enjoys being illogical.

I'm convinced that:

• Snacks make everything better, except maybe a diet.
• As long as there are both men and women on earth, life will be complicated.
• I don't have to know what I want to be when I grow up. Some of you have already picked out a college. Good for you, I don't know if I'll go to college. I don't have to.
• You can only live one day at a time.
• Most facebook fan pages are stupid, and someone else who thinks that will probably make a fan page for it.
• My youth pastor isn't shaving his beard, at least not until it's big enough to cover his bald spot.
• Baseball is better. The only thing the NFL has on it is that it can stand for "Nacho For Life."
• Loud music and energy drinks make weekends better.

I'll probably write again this week. I had to get this one down, I hope you enjoy it and I'll try to get a comment on your posts. Peace you hippies!

This is me...

Since this is my first post, I thought I'd give you all a glimpse of my relatively open mind. I am first and foremost a follower of Jesus Christ, who was the Son of God. He came into the world, forsook His majesty and bore the digrace of public torture and execution in order that by His death, I might have life. On the third day after Jesus died, God raised Him from the dead. He now lives as my Lord and intercedes for me at the right hand of the Father. That is the only thing that really matters in my life, to follow Christ. Anything that is not for Him is worthless.

That said, I love to play basketball, baseball, and music. I don't brag about being good at any of these things, but I still enjoy them. I don't know what I want to be when I "grow up," and I really hope I don't grow old. I like to try things that are sometimes stupid, say things that make situations awkward, and often hurt myself. Life's good though, and I've got a good group of friends who will laugh with me when I fall off of scooters made for children under 10.

The days of my life have some order to them, the order just seems to change with the day. In this respect, I'm definitely a free spirit. I like to take life as it comes; I wake up and ask what's going on.

Technically, my blog is for writing assignments, but as my anonymous friend pointed out, these post aren't homework, they're fun! I guess I'm a bit of a nerd when it comes to writing. I love it, and thank God that I have the opportunity to practice it. I hope you'll find my posts to be worth reading, but not over-serious. Anyone who knows me can tell you I don't like to take life too seriously, and jokes (however bad they may be) are not uncommon with me. I'm the bomb dot com when it comes to chatting, so please comment:)

Mazal tov