The story What We Talk about When We Talk about Love by Raymond Carver, is obviously about love. It’s about really getting down to “nitty gritty” of what “true love” is. Let me paint the picture for you. Two couples are sitting around at a kitchen table sipping on gin. All four of them are pretty much debating what they feel true love is. As do most debaters, they all had different opinions and arguments to go along with their persuasion. The sides that each character take, are all well worth the argument; but which one is right? Referring back to an earlier blog posting of mine; Love is an amazing thing. So many times people throw the word love, or the phrase I love you around. Love is not meant for that; love is a very powerful word that goes much deeper then just saying it.

Terri, one of the characters in the story thinks that her ex-husband displayed “true love”. He went on a rampage one night and tried to kill Terri, but ultimately wound up killing himself. Now I don’t know about you but I find it very hard to find the “true love” in that circumstance; maybe obsessed or insane, but not love. Terri’s current husband Mel had a story as well. He had a much different approach to what true love is. He told a story of an older couple who had gotten into a horrible car wreck and almost lost their lives. Many hours of surgery later, both of them pulled through and were expected to recover just fine. For the time being though, both were covered from head to toe with bandages, and weren’t able to move their extremities. Now heres the crazy part; although they were both expected to survive the older man was still very depressed. When Mel asked him why he was depressed, the old man told him, because he couldn’t turn his head and look at his beautiful bride. Now that’s love! That man loved his wife, even though she was laid up in a hospital bed not really looking so beautiful according to the world’s standards. Love is a crazy thing, and sometimes it makes people do crazy things. But I think true love is simple, yet so deep.

I think true love is, no matter what, no matter what the circumstance, you love that person as if everything was perfect. True love is, when everyone else turns their back on them, you are there with open arms. It’s almost impossible to describe, because love can be on so many levels. You can say “I love my dog”, but who is really going to die for their dog. You can say “I love pizza” but would you want pizza laying in the hospital bed next to you, while you’re fighting for your life. Do you see what I’m getting at here? There is only one kind of true love though. To me, that’s loving someone so much that you are willing to die for them; you are willing to go to the ends of the earth for them. Jesus Christ is the perfect example. To me beyond the shadow of any doubt, the most amazing, PERFECT display of true love. Now I’m not writing this to preach to you, but to me, not only was Jesus dieing on the cross for our sins, but he was showing us what TRUE LOVE is. I’m not trying to say that dieing for someone is the only way you can really tell if it was true love. But what I’m trying to say is that it’s the actions more then the words.
I found this quote that I really thought summed true love up very well, it’s by Honore de Balzac, “True love is eternal, infinite, and always like itself. It is equal and pure, without violent demonstrations: it is seen with white hairs and is always young in the heart.” That old man wanted to see his beautiful wife, regardless of what she looked like. Even though he was bruised and broken himself. At that point he was putting him self aside and his true love in front. It speaks volumes to people when you put their needs a head of yours. I keep thinking of my father, and the countless times he bought clothes or something for my brothers, sister and myself, when he needed something himself. Or how my mom took care of me when I was sick and highly contagious and no one else wanted to be near me. She was their though, taking care of me. Hollywood does an amazing job sometimes at giving us a horrible perception of what true love is

I feel that my interpretation of this story matters, to me as well as whoever is ready this. I think that our minds are skewed sometimes as to what true love really is; but in all actuality true love is simple I hope and pray that you take as much out of this story as I did. We all want to find true love, and we all want to be truly loved. I can personally say that when someone else puts me before their own needs, it makes me feel loved. Just know that true love is not just something you say or write, but its something displayed in the good times, and the bad times, in sickness and in health. True Love never fails.

I had an awesome thanksgiving break! How was yours? Well I went back to New York for my break and spent it with my family. Its funny because, well my mom likes to decorate the house according to the holiday or season, and she likes to bring out decorations that me and my siblings might of made back when we were in Elementary school. A couple of the things she put out on display were little writings we wrote about, like thanksgiving and the pilgrims and Indians. There was a piece of literature that I wrote; it was about what I think thanksgiving is all about haha. I thought alot different back then; because then I thought it was just all about the good food, but now being away from home I see that its more about being with family and really giving thanks for your loved ones.
My break was eventful to say the least. Right off the bat, about a few hours after I arrived home on the plane, my dad got my jeep stuck in a ditch! I saw my whole family just about every night, which was awesome. My dad, my brothers and I went hunting a bunch of times. Its kind of become a tradition to go out in the woods thanksgiving morning, usually my uncle goes out too. If we don't get anything, at least it makes for a good/funny conversation around the dinner table that night. Later that night, a bunch of my extended family came over, which made things ten times louder. But I wouldn't have it any other way. My old high school basketball team was starting there season, so on the days I wasn't eating to much, I went and helped out my old coach with the guys. All and all break was good, but now its time to strap down and get ready for finals! I hope you all enjoyed your breaks just as much as I did!

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Dreams
by Langston Hughes

I was looking around on the Internet for a poem I could possibly do my blog on. I came across this poem and liked it; it was short and sweet. I think the first three lines of the poem are the most powerful. "Life is a broken winged bird", that stands out to me a lot; you could so easily picture a bird with a hurt wing hobbling around. Well that’s kind of how we are in life without dreams.
Dreams are such a good thing to have, even if the more then likely will not ever come true. Dreams change along the way for a lot of people. For instance, when you're a little child you dream of being an astronaught, but when you're older you dream of having a wife and kids or visa versa. I think I mentioned something about dreams in an earlier blog; imagine if no one had dreams, nothing would ever come to be. Martin Luther King would have just been a man. Someone like Thomas Edison would have never discovered the light bulb.
Dream big! Don't sell yourself short for something God can take and make HUGE! God knows your dreams better then you do. Personally I can think of so many times where I thought to myself “oh wow, that’s impossible” and God totally proves me wrong and makes a dream/fantasy a reality. He knows what your desires are. Pursue them with God! Don't set off to accomplish this great dream on your own. God intended our relationship to be a partnership; you’ll never have to do anything on your own. I was just thinking; I bet God has dreams too, I bet his dreams are to see the whole world get saved or to at least see every person hear the gospel of Jesus Christ.

This weekend was a very busy and crazy weekend. Our baseball team here at Southeastern volunteered to work the mens and women's soccer nationals along with women's volleyball nationals. I had to miss class on Friday and again on Monday. It was hectic to say the least. I was actually able to go to a church service Sunday night in Aburndale; it was a very good service! Very relaxed, but nothing was hidden. Sometimes is bugs me when the church has a hidden agenda; it just seems fake and planned, which it probably is.
I guess how I'm kind of relating this to class, is through the readings we did. We read out of Ezekiel; I don't quite remember the exact verse off the top of my head. It was a story about a man, who God was trying to show him how to go deeper in his relationship with him. He used a river to get his point across. The man said "Lord I want to go deeper", so god told him to step into the river. Soon the man's feet were submerged in the water. Then he said "but Lord I want to go deeper!", so God told him to walk out further into the river, soon enough the man was up to his knees in the river. I think you get the point by now, as to what God was teaching this man.
God in a sense is like the water, and once you "lay down" in the water in let it overflow your body, is when God can completely take control and use you to your maximum potential. I think its cool to see how God used circumstances like this in his "literature". I forget what they call it, I know there is a literary term for giving something life like qualities even though it isn't living. That might not make sense, but I'm trying to remember back to seventh grade English haha.

Ok so, when I first read the assingment for class on tuesday I was kind of scared. I didn't really know what to expect because I'm not really the type of guy that watches musicals. I was rudely mistaken; "Dr. Horrible" sing along blog was very funny. The actor who plays Dr. Horrible, I've seen before on other television comedys, so I knew he was going to be funny.
It started off kind of weird. I wasn't really sure if Dr. Horrible was a joke, or if he really was Dr. Horrible. I thought maybe he was just playing a goofy part as a joke. But as the show progressed I realized that he indeed was "Dr. Horrible". The whole show he was trying to accepted in to some kind of a hero league of some sort. He only had to do one though first... kill someone!
I think you can take a valuable lesson out of this. Sometimes we are so blinded by our long term goals, that we tend to ignore the stuff in between that help us get there. Usually we end up falling flat on our face. In this case, Dr. Horrible didn't kill who intended on, in fact he killed a girl who he adored very much. All because he was so caught up in the dream of his. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying dreams are bad by any means. I'm just saying that sometimes you need to stop and smell the flowers along the way. Dreams start small and eventually get big. There are alot of little stuff we need to do before that dream can become a reality.
If I was to go out tomorrow and say my dream is to be a proffesional baseball player and expect it to happen that next day, then I'm on something. I would have to put many hours in the weight room, eat a well balanced diet, run and throw every day and not be affraid of failure. Thats how dreams come true!

When I first pulled up to Lake Bonny I was surprised and a little bit relieved. I didn’t realize how close it was to school. I didn’t know what to really expect as Mark and myself drove around for a minute trying to find some parking. I was a little confused at first because I expected to pull up to an area that was heavily wooded, but instead there were lots of athletic fields and sports teams from the area practicing.
We eventually found a parking spot and the pathway that Professor Corrigan was talking about. Right away I noticed the colors and sounds of the woods. It was evening when we went, so the birds were pretty quiet, but wind was howling and making the trees sway back and forth. We started down the path and I immediately noticed flowers to the left. I didn’t know if they were wild flowers or not. I continued down the trail and crossed the bridge that was displayed on Professor Corrigan’s blog. I came out on the other side only to find that the bridge continued out over the water. It was a pretty cool site to see. This is where I stood and was just quiet for a few moments. The sky was getting dark but it was just light enough to see some fish jump in the water. After a little while we actually came across two older men that told us about a ten foot alligator that they just took out of the area. That thought kind of made me a little bit un-easy so we started to head back.
I’m glad I went to Lake Bonny. I’ve heard of it up to this point but I never actually saw it. It was a lot different than I thought it was going to be.

To be honest with you, I don't really know what to blog about tonight. So I'm just going to wing it and see where it goes! Three weeks till thanksgiving break, and things are starting to wind down around campus and in the classroom. Its a little weird to me, because I'm from New York and the weather is still in the 80's. I'm used to having to wear a hat and gloves by now. I mean don't get me wrong, I love the warm weather; I just miss home too.

Right now it makes me think about the writers and authors we've read in class and where they called home. Home for most of us made us who we are today, and I'm sure the writers we've read were influenced to write by where they were from or how they were brought up. Like me for instance; I was brought up in a household where we loved baseball. My brother player, my two older sister played softball. It was all around. Now look at me, I play baseball here at Southeastern University.

Makes me think about the works we've read where, the story is a little gloomy or sad. Maybe that author wasn't brought up in the best of conditions and writing was the way he or she expressed her feelings.

Today, I am going to be writting about a passage of scripture that I read last night using "Lectio". In class its hard for me to grasp the Lectio; because some of the works that we read are tough for me to dive into. So last night I tried it with the bible. The passage I read was Phillipians 4; the verse that stuck out the most was verse six. Basically what it says is be anxious for nothing, but in everything we do, go to the lord in prayer and he will hear us.

Be anxious for nothing! Thats huge, especially in this day in age when everything is happening so fast. But right there, God is just reminding us that we don't need to worry about a thing. There is nothing to powerful or too great that he can't handle. That kind of pumps me up.

When I got to the prayer part of the Lectio reading, God really showed me some areas in my life where I am too "anxious". Honestly, I never thought the Lectio would work, because it didn't really have an effect on me in class. I think maybe because its with such a big group. But in my quiet time it was very beneficial.

The other part of the passage that was huge for me was "in everything you do, go to the lord in prayer". I think so many times we think "oh thats stupid to pray for" or "this is too big for God". Well thats wrong! Theres no such thing as a stupid prayer, and there is absolutley nothing to big for God. He created us, whats makes us think he dosesn't have the power to answer a huge prayer. I fall short in this category alot. When things aren't going so good in my life I tend to just brush them under the rug, and totally avoid prayer. And on the opposite end of that, when things are going really well I lose sight of praying and thanking God for his blessings. Sometimes I even feel like im annoying God; which just sounds ridiculous.

The lectio reading really helped though. It made me stop and reflect on everything I read; maybe on a level I would never do if I was just reading something for the heck of it. It made me go deeper into the text and pull out stuff that wasn't really on the surface.

Tonight's blog doesn't really go along with to much from class besides the fact that we go to a christian college. This past weekend was the next step to our week long fire fall, called "whats next?". The turn out was incredible and you could tell God had his hand on the whole day right away. Many different groups from the school showed up; athletic teams, events committees, professors and so on.

The day started with everyone meeting between Bethany and Bauer, followed by a prayer. Everyone then broke up into groups and dispersed amongst lakeland to serve the city. My group went in to the local neighbor hoods and picked up trash. Theres not a whole lot more humbling then that. It felt good though; people stopped and asked what we were doing and why. It sparked some good conversations with people we might of never talked to unless we were picking trash up in their front yard.

One lady asked us if we were on parole; it was kind of funny, but when she found out we were doing it purely out of the goodness of our heart, she was blown away. I think so many time we get all gun hoe on going overseas to third world countries and reaching people from around the world that we lose sight of how bad it is right here, in America. In our own back yard. It really hit home to see some of the kids running around there yards with next to nothing on; and what they did have on, it was all torn up.

Our group challenged ourselves to put together an event that brings the children from the community to campus for a sports clinic or what ever. Just serve the community in anyway we can!

Today's blog is going to be about the book I'm reading. The book I am reading is called The Slaughter House Five. Its actually a really good book; I didn't know going into it if i would be to fond of it. All I new is what a story taking place during world war two, and a little later. The main character's name is Billy Pilgrim; hes married with two kids, and is a world war two vet. The book starts off really confusing, not really revealing any characters or even explaining which direction the plot of the story is going. Eventually the story picks up and the characters are slowly introduced.

Billy Pilgrim is writing a book on world war two and the base in which where he was stationed. He's trying to remember some of the main events or highlight or the base, but can't seem to grasp on to anything worth putting into a book. He calls one of his war buddies one night and asks to meet with him to discuss the war, and possibly see if any worth while stories come up.

The book really picks up when Billy, starts flashing back to days during the war, and then days after the war. Its kind of confusing at first, but once you realize what hes trying to portray, it gets a little easier. At one point of the book, Mr. Pilgrim claims that he was abducted by aliens. He describes how he was in his back yard one night and the aliens swooped over and scooped him right up in to their space ship. This book is definitely not the easiest read in the world, but I like it because it makes you think a lot, and get into the characters minds a little bit.

My brother Ross Gellan has a pretty good life; he really doesn’t have too much to complain about. He has a loving family, that supports him, and friends that will give him the shirts off their very back. A girlfriend? Not so much; she’s a work in progress, as Ross would say. Ross is just out of high school and entering his freshman year at a community college two hours outside of our home town. This is a big deal to Ross, seeing how he’s never lived away from home before; well besides when he house sat for our older brother for a few weeks.
A standout athlete in high school earned my brother a full basketball scholarship along with an apartment shared by his best friend. As far as Ross was concerned, this was going to being the best year ever. He was going to meet some girls, make new friends, go to school for free and play the sport he loved.
Ross is a pretty clean cut guy, dark brown eyes and dark brown hair, with olive colored skin. Always keeps his face a little scruffy with his hair short and spiked. A good dresser with no piercings or tattoos; because if he did, mom would kill him, literally! Ross doesn’t drink or smoke, seldom uses foul language and earns descent grades. You see, Ross is a pretty easy going guy, always putting others before himself. He is the comedian in the family, and he’ll be the first to tell you that. There is never a dull moment in the house when my brother is around; he’s the life of the party. Being his older sister, I’ve seen Ross in some pretty sticky situations, but not a whole lot seems to phase him. He usually handles himself pretty well.
My brother thought he was invisible, no one could touch him, and no problem was too big for him. Little did he know, that he would be tested and pushed to a point that he had never been pushed before.
The fall semester started, and Ross was immediately meeting new people and discovering new and interesting things. He learned quickly that macaroni and cheese can be combined with other foods to make “gourmet” dishes. And if he didn’t just throw his clothes on the floor after wearing them all day, he could wear them more then once before he washed them. He finally realized why mom was so adamant on cleaning his room, because before he knew it his floor was no longer visible and “mount Ross” seemed to form in the corner of his bedroom.
I remember talking to him one night as he explained how practice wasn’t so hard the first semester; just a lot of conditioning and learning plays. Ross was a point guard, so it was important for him to know the plays better then anyone else on the team. Lucky for Ross he had a photo graphic memory, like our dad. No girlfriend yet, he was “waiting for the right time” to pursue one. Ross and his relationships were always the topics of discussion at the dinner table. It was actually very entertaining.
Well anyway the first semester came and went, and before we knew it Ross was back home! It was Christmas break and it was like he never left; he immediately picked up right were he left off, making fun of mom, picking on our little brother and just making everyone laugh. He had us laughing so hard one night that our dad was actually in tears; only Ross! It was so good to have him back.
Ross and I are the closest in age out of the five kids, so we were always hanging out with the same friends at the same places. We went Christmas shopping the night before his birthday; his birthday is on the eighteenth. We did it for the past two years; we would go at night and take our time finding gifts for our parents and whoever we had in our family grab bag. My brother explained to me how he was thinking about transferring schools to go into the ministry, and how he felt called to youth. You see, Ross was a leader; it was natural. He would be an amazing youth pastor.
The next night, mom had a small cake for Ross with just the family; Ross never did like making a big deal out of his birthday. He opened a few gifts and a few cards, and then he was right back to entertaining us. The night wound down and Ross, told mom he was going to meet up with some friends for a late night movie. I had fallen asleep on the couch or else I probably would have went with him.
The theater was only fifteen minutes away, but the roads were slick and it was late. Mom let him take the Jeep and told him to just be careful. Careful was definitely not in Ross’s vocabulary, thinking back to his frequent emergency room visits. It was just like any other night though; mom fell asleep down stairs on the couch waiting for Ross, while everyone else was asleep in bed. I remember that night; I had a hard time staying asleep. I kept waking up and turning over and taking the covers off, then putting them on, then taking them off again. I heard the phone ring; I remember I opened my eyes to see what time it was. It was around one. It rang all the way through; mom must have missed the call. Sure enough it rang again, this time someone picked up on the second ring. Not even thinking twice about the phone call, I started to fall back asleep when the sound of my mother screaming and crying shot me out of my bed.
It was all kind of a blur from there. I remember my father running by my door down the stairs to my mother. Before I knew it everyone was up, and curious about the commotion. I’ll never forget that night as long as I live. You see, Ross was on his way back home for the theater coming down route 104, minding his own business. Knowing Ross, he probably had his favorite worship song blasting in the back round. He was about ten minutes from our house when a drunk driver passed out at the wheel and crossed the center line into on coming traffic. Ross had no time to jerk the wheel or honk the horn or anything.
The vehicles met head on, killing the drunk driver instantly and knocking Ross unconscious. All the police officer could tell my parents on the phone was that my brother was alive, but in bad shape. There was no getting ready for this trip to the hospital, we all immediately jumped in the car and went straight to the hospital where they were bringing Ross. So many things were going through my head at that point in time. Old memories of Ross kept popping in my head. I just kept picturing him smiling and cracking jokes when we arrived at the hospital. But there was none of that; when we arrived we were met by a doctor who explained to us Ross’s injuries and situation. Mom was a wreck and dad was trying his best to keep it together for all of us, but he broke down as well.
My brother suffered two broken legs, a collapsed lung and a broken arm. His face was badly scraped and cut from the broken glass. Ross was in a coma, and the doctors weren’t sure when he would wake up, if he even woke up. You could barley recognize him, because his face was so swollen. My mother didn’t leave his side; not for a minute.
The days went by slow, it felt like forever. Christmas came, but was not like a normal Christmas. Instead of spending it at home around the tree with Ross playing a Christmas mix on the cd player; we were all around his hospital bed, still in disbelief of the whole situation. Nurses frequently came in and out and checked vitals and changed IV bags. But still Ross lay there lifeless. The swelling in his face went down, but the bruises took over and filled his body.
Mom would talk to Ross, as if he were awake. The doctor said, he wasn’t sure if he could hear us talking to him or not, but my mom could careless. She would tell him that he was going to be alright and that he was going to pull through. She would hold his hand, and tell him smile or squeeze if he could hear her. Mom did this everyday; the doctor said it was a good thing.
At this point, our grandparents were in the room, and we were going to have Christmas right there. What happened next will forever be engrained in my head. We were going to open our grab bags gifts right then in there, because that’s what Ross would of wanted. Opening presents was always his favorite part. Well anyway, my mom sat there next to Ross and said “Ross squeeze my hand if you wanna open presents”. We all smiled at the thought of it, but didn’t really get our hopes up. Just then Ross’s hand slowly grasped my mom’s hand. She immediately started to cry. We all looked down at him as a big smile came upon his face and his eyes slowly opened. We all gasped, and crowded around. Everyone one was crying at this point, and in shock. Ross looked up and worked up enough strength to say, “Sorry about the jeep”, with a big grin on his bruised face.

Its been a few days since I've posted; the wear and tear of an upper class man schedule is in full effect. This week has been very refreshing though; spiritually, physically and mentally. I didn't think it would be a bad idea to make a post about fire fall, seeing how its been such a big part of our lives the past few days.

Its a good time to get away from the distractions of our schedules and busy days and focus on what really matters, and what we are really here for. Two of the best speakers I've ever heard spoke this week, and the knowledge they poured into the student body was incredible. You can tell that these two gentlemen were men of God. The talked with such conviction and emotion that it stirred our hearts in ways that were just amazing.

The whole theme this week was "what if". I thinks it great; it can be followed up with so many other statements. One of the big "what ifs" that stood out to me was, what if a school loved a city? Its so simple, yet so powerful. Think about that for a second; what if one school decided to just pour out God's love and mercy over a city? Things would be crazy. Rich Wilkerson said it best, when he described us a troops going into battle together, and each of us has different jobs. Some more important then others, but all working together for one common goal. Imagine if our school or any school grasped to that concept. We could shake the world one city at a time. We could be the only love that an abused child ever has. Pastor Chris laid it out for us perfectly; we can't just go through these few days and let it fade away, we need to keep it going and carry it out amongst the people. Be Jesus to the people of lake land. What if God gave you the opportunity to witness to every person or group in the world before he came back? Would you do it?

I'm taking another pass for tonight

I meant to blog on this sooner but I kind of forgot to. The Lectio reading we did I believe we did a few weeks ago, and it was the second time I have done this. The first time I did this type of reading was with the Bible and with some faculty along with many of my peers. I recieved alot from this time of reading; the way its structured almost forces you to take something away from it. Unless you're completly zoned out not paying attention what so ever.

I guess I didn't realize that you could use this type of reading for something other then the Bible. So I guess its safe to say it expanded my horizons. Although I didn't take much out of the reading in class, I came to the realization that different things work for different people. One of the most amazing things for me, for this type of reading is when someone else reads aloud and I listen and think a little more deeply about what is being read. My other favorite part of this sacred reading is the Contemplatio, which means resting in the word. This can be used whenever; my youth pastor back home taught me this a while back when I came to him asking what I can do to make reading the Bible more interesting. He simply said, don't just read to read, but actually read and meditate on what you just read, even if you have to stop every few lines. I feel like this is the most important part of the exercise. It actually gives you a chance to let God speek to you in the silence and peace.

Something like this is totally what we need, especially in this day in age where everything is hustle bustle. Its good to just sit and wait on God, and see what he has to speek to you in any situation.

I'm gonna take a pass tonight!

Just got done reading the essay assigned for class this Thursday; it was very interesting. It gave me a totally different perspective about poems. I'm not really that into poetry I guess you can say. I never really read it in high school, so i guess it kind of carried over to college. Its not that I don't respect the writer, its that most of the time I don't understand what the author is trying to communicate.

Well this essay helped me understand a little more. I found out that the reason most poems are so hard to understand at first is because they aren't just meant to be read one time. Authors of these poems make them like that so that the reader has to do some work too. He compared it to rock climbing; you can't just expect to climb a mountain, you actually have to do some work. And the same goes for reading and understanding poems. The author of the essay also compared poem writing to jazz music, and how some authors format their poems to flow like the music of a saxophone.

I think if I was to take anything away from this essay, it would be to give poetry a better chance. Maybe re-read it like the essay says and then read it aloud to yourself. I'm understanding more and more that in today's world, the more areas you are experienced in the better off you are in society. This essay opened my eyes a lot to why authors of poems write what the write, or how they write. It even mentioned that even the authors admit the poetry is tough to understand. Make me feel a heck of a lot better.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6sjYWrpNoCs
(this is a song calle "Overcome" by Desperation Band)

I haven't scanned my painting yet, but i will before the night is over. In my painting, I kind of divided the paper in half's, vertically. One side is a dark gloomy scene; almost showing no hope. On the other side, the sky is bright and a tree represents new life. A river is flowing from the nice scene to symbolize God's mercy and love. While I was painting this and even after, it made me think. I was thinking about how God, uses certain situations to mold us and make us better. Although it might seem dark and gloomy sometimes, God promises to never leave his children. Sometimes we as humans are so narrow minded; I'm guilty myself. When are going through a rough time it is so easy for me to blame God and ask why? But really it more then likely me. Instead I should examine myself; am I going through this rough time because of God or because of myself?

I feel like I'm all over the place with this blog, but I have a lot on my mind. The word that keeps coming to my mind is OVERCOME. Like Jesus overcame the cross, we need to overcome our worldly desires and problems. So many times we just lose sight of God and his plan for a split second and BOOM, we are completely walking in the wrong direction. No matter what this world gives us, it will never even be close to what Jesus already did for us. Just like in my painting; on the one side the tree is almost dead and lifeless (signifies life out of God's will). On the other side the tree is replenished and full of life (signifying being in God's will). No matter what, we are always trying to overcome something; whether it be big or small. A preacher back home says, " you're either in a storm, going through a storm, or just coming out of a storm". If we could just grasp the concept of keeping our focus on what really matters, life would be perfect. But we aren't perfect, and that's why we need Jesus. Overcome!

In reading the book of Joel, it made me reflect on a lot of things in my life. In this chapter of the Bible, you see both sides of God's love, to two different extremes. First he takes everything away from his people, and then gives everything back in full, if not more! This can be compared to our lives, our country, even our world. When you are out of God's will, he allows you to follow is permissive will; which means he allows you to make your own mistakes. So many times that happens to us. We think God just left us or abandoned us, but really he is there waiting with open arms. Makes me think of the song “when God ran”; basically it talks about how God will never run away from you; he’ll only run towards you. He doesn't like to discipline us by any means, but if that's what it takes for us to realize we need him more then anything on this earth; then he'll do it.
There was a time in my life where I felt as if God was gone; up and left. I was very content with my life, almost too content. I wasn't really into anything horrible, but I wasn't into anything good either (if that makes sense). I was Luke warm. As I look back now, it’s easier for me to see how certain circumstances at the time played out how they did. It took me sometime to realize that I was out of God's will; it was almost as if I was in some sort of denial. As soon as I repented and turned my life back towards the right direction I felt as if a huge amount of weight was lifted from my shoulders. Almost immediately I felt God's love overwhelm me and fill a void that I had for so long. Just like in the book of Joel.

I just read Walt Whitman's Eulogy, and it was beautifully written. It was given by one his grandchildren who plainly displayed the love he has for his Grandpa. Writing a Eulogy obviously gives you a chance to take time and reflect on someone’s life, and at that moment you can look back and evaluate if that person lived a meaningful life. We all want to believe that our eulogy will be as beautiful as this one. But now it makes me wonder, what would mine look like. When the good Lord calls me home, and someone writes my eulogy, will mine reflect a meaningful life? So many times we get caught up in life styles that make us think we are leading a meaningful life because we are happy at the moment. But what is it that is making us happy? Money? Worldly pleasure? What is a meaningful life? Feel free to comment and share.
A perfect example of a meaningful life is my mother. She is truly a servant, and is always there for whoever needs her. I can think of just little stuff that she did for, like bringing my gym clothes to school because I forgot them or buying me new shoes when my dad told her not to ha-ha. To me, someone with a servant’s heart is leading a meaningful life. Putting someone else before you, whether it is a stranger or your best friend, really means a lot. This is what God calls us to do, because that’s what Jesus did a little over two thousand years ago. He put his LIFE down so that we could be set free. Now I know that I'm not in the mind set all the time, because I'm human. But if we strive to be a servant after God's own heart, I feel like we're living a Christ filled meaningful life!

Going back on the text from last class, and even the picture I drew in class. My question was; why do we as humans, find a physical object comforting? What is it about something that makes us feel that way? Maybe its a memory, that everytime we hold the object or see it, it brings right back to that moment in time. I know for me, being so far away from home I have many objects that I brought down to school to possibly comfort me when I'm home sick.
I think it also shows our human side. If Jesus is all we need then why do we cling to this physical objects. Thats where our flesh takes over. I'm not saying its a bad thing by any means. Maybe somethings serve as a reminder for people. Like in the story, one of the soilders carried around a thumb of a little boy; from my point of view he carried that with him as a reminder. For some people a tatoo could serve as that physical comfort. So many times we see people who have lost a loved one go out and get a tatoo in memory of their life. Its comforting for some people; its almost like a peice of their loved one is attached to them in a sense. These are examples of ways us humans try and comfort ourselves. If only we could grasp that the only thing we need is Jesus.
In some ways, physical objects can even become an idol. If you're turning a lucky rabbits foot instead of praying to God, then you seriously need to examine your heart and be real with yourself. God knows we're human, and I'm pretty sure he gets why we do what we do but we need to understand that there is know object in this world that will ever show us the comfort and love of Jesus. To make it a little more biblical, take Jesus' scars for example. Those serve as a reminder to us the pain and suffering he went through to set us free.

I just read the story What We Talk about When We Talk about Love by Raymond carver. It was very interesting to say the least. The story was very well written; I could practically picture the four characters sitting around the table drinking their gin. The two couples went back and forth sharing stories of what they thought true love really was. One of the character, Terri; thought that her ex-husband displayed true love because he tried to kill her and ultimately ended up taking his own life. Now to me that’s not love, that’s psycho and someone who is an obsessed person. The next story given by Terri's husband Mel was a little easier to see the love taking place. It was an old couple that got in a horrible car wreck, and managed to pull through many hours of surgery. Now, both of them were alive and expected to recover, although they were covered with bandages from head to toe and completely immobilized. But the older man was still depressed for some reason. When Mel asked him why he was still depressed, the old man simply told him it was because he couldn't turn his head and look at his beautiful bride. At one point of the story, the two couples got on the subject of whether or not you could love someone and then later in life, not love them. Personally I think it’s totally possible. Love is an amazing thing, but people change, and that’s why our love for people can change. If you love someone for certain attributes or qualities that they may have at one point in time, and that person decides to make some changes; then the love isn't there anymore. I may be completely out of line saying that, but that’s what I'm thinking right now.

Literary Profile

I haven't really thought about it much, but literature has been in my life since I was a youngster. I was never really into just sitting down on my own and reading a book when I was a little kid; but I always loved getting read to. I can remember my mother reading to me when I was just a toddler; books like "Where’s my blanky" and "My baby you'll be". They used to make me feel so good just before bed. Honestly, I think my mom liked them more then me ha-ha. Sometimes we joke about them to this day; in fact we still have them laying around one of the bookshelves at home for my nieces and nephews. Those are just two of my earliest literary examples in my young life. More recent memories of literature consist of mostly biographies, the bible or books we have to read for classes. I can't really explain it but, reading about other peoples lives interests me. I feel like you can learn a lot from other people experiences, whether they be positive or negative. Right now I'm in the middle of reading Joe Torre's book call "The Yankee Years". It would be stupid for me to say that none of these books or works of literature have had a significant difference in my life, because I have many that have changed my eyes and thinking. A book by Charles Stanley called "Walking Wisely", has spoke volumes into my life, and sometimes I still open it to find answers. Literature matters a ton; it can be very influential for people and how they think or act. I think it’s almost impossible for someone to say that a piece of literature hasn’t had some kind of an effect on their life. Now, if you just flat out hate books and stories, then I could see why literature doesn't matter.