Opposite World

When I was little I used to bug my sister by saying nonsense words or writing crazy notes that sounded something like this: Woh si eht erutcip gnimoc? To which she frowned and demanded me to stop laughing--for I couldn't stop laughing at my secret--and tell her what I was talking about. My sister and I were great friends and of course I could not keep any secret from her for long. So very soon I capitulated and told her I was talking and writing backwards!
   Ever after that we had a funny game between us of saying things backwards for fun so no one knew what we were talking about, or even just to see how funny various words sounded turned around backwards. It was great fun. And even to this day we still remember our little 'world of opposites' where we eventually didn't only speak backwards but also said just the opposite of what we meant. In this way the meanest comments were actually compliments, yes' were actually no's, and all sorts of such confusing enigmas.
    My brother, Seth, is well known for his "what if..." ramblings. He loves to ask a crazy question--usually at the dinner table--such as "What if gravity were the opposite and you had to hold on to things with your hands to walk and get around...." Which reminded me again of my childhood 'backwards world'.
    The truth is, Christian people are living in a backwards world all the time. Maybe not so much of a backwards world as an unusual one where logic doesn't make sense. This is obviously because we are working on a different plane of thinking--a higher one--than most people of logic are operating on. Wes Martin expressed this when he spoke about spiritual disciplines recently. He said that it doesn't make sense for people to go without meals when they are in need (fasting), talk to someone whom they can't see (prayer), and act as if they belong in a place where you can't go-without dying first, that is (heaven). If you think about it, there are dozens of elements to Christianity that don't make sense when you first come up against them. Christ said to live you must die. For the eyes of Saul to be opened, he had to blinded first. It would seem that we believers are living in a world of opposites!
      Of course, this isn't a negative thing at all. Rather, I agree with Saint Augustine that this befits us since this world is not our home. We are, in a rather practical sense, aliens on this planet. So it makes sense that things are rather backwards and foreign to our way of living--our calling. One day Jesus will return and bring his kingdom to this planet. Then everything will be switched once again and instead of us being the oddballs, everyone else will be living a different sort of life that doesn't quite fit in the spectrum of Jesus' heavenly reign. This 'opposite world' that we live in now will be flopped right over into an ordinary world--like a foggy lens clearing up and focusing on an object that was previously only a blur. The world will be opposite, no more!

Scholarship

Going to a Bible College is expensive. On top of that, finding a scholarship can be really difficult. That's why I was so excited to find the Bible College Scholarship website today. Not only are they giving away a $1,000.00 scholarship and a digital theological library, all I had to do to apply was watch a short video and answer a few questions! It took less than 15 minutes. What is best of all is that if you're in Bible College and apply for the Bible College Scholarship, and put my name as the person who referred you, if you win the scholarship, so do I! We could both get a $1,000.00 scholarship and digital theological library. So, do us both a favor and go apply for the Bible College Scholarship today.

Quiet, Unassuming

A poem about clicks

Quiet, unassuming

I stand alone

Does anyone see me?

Do They know what it means

To be without a friend?

I fight the pride within my soul.

Of nothing would I boast,

But if They knew me, such

Worthy companionship would not so easily be rejected.

Why were the former days better than these?

And can anyone see how it hurts,

to be misvalued?

Quiet, unassuming

I stand alone

Does anyone need me?

Can I be a friend?

I see you there, sadly

Watching Their happy faces, 

Listening to Their empty chatter.

You feel it too, the hurt

Of being the one outside.

I go to you.

We smile.

Connection; embrace.

We're friends now.

Time passes and when you find you're place

I'm satisfied.

But here I am, alone again

I've learned each has his place

Not rightly his or fairly given,

But steadfast, it remains.

My pride is gone.

I value not,

The fallacy of Their embrace.

Quiet, unassuming

I stand alone

Watching a new face.

New because I failed to notice

Such sorrow out of place.

Could one of Them be hurting too?

Rejected he is not, but still

We share a self-same loss:

A friendship that is true.

Until he finds that, his facade,

Must go on.

Suddenly, I remember you

And taking new resolve

Set out to reach his saddened heart

And be the hands of God.

But as I try, he turns away.

I find that to be good to him,

To myself I must be false.

Perhaps he, in his own mind

Does count the cost;

A cost beyond what fearful hearts can pay

for dread of loss.

What now?

Quiet, unassuming

I see him standing there.

Around him is gay chatter

The day is very fair.

His eyes are dull. 

He does not see me~

Watching, wishing, pitying.

He remains alone, and I

must on my way.

A Boy Called Jack

For C.S. Lewis

When Jack was a boy

They called him Clive

A name he never deserved

No matter how hard he tried!

His friends called him Jack

As did Warren, his brother.

When he was just five,

Pall-bearers came for his mother.

Thank God his broke heart

Mended, not crooked.

Though his sorrow was hard,

He bravely withstood it.

As he grew older,

Things didn't look up.

But it was easy to see,

This young man was tough.

At last he grew old,

Worried, night and day

And found he hadn't hardly

A penny to his name.

BUT GOD, He provided

As Jack trusted he would

And delivered him from his troubles

So that Jack understood:

God is good.

Burdened by experience

And a God-inspired pen

Jack began to write stories

To teach lessons to men

He taught them that Christianity

Is about Christ, nothing more

That people are fallible

And often a bore.

He said, Love everyone we must

Even our deadliest enemies;

For a world in the midst of war

This truth went home for many.

Most wonderful of all

Jack gave us a great gift

The stories of Aslan

And of several kids

These were great classics

Good reads for young and all

They shed much of truth's light

And saved many readers from a fall

Jack is my hero

Both literally and in faith

Even now I love to see little boys

Who bear his special name

I think when I meet him

We'll know each other like old friends

And both set to writing

One of those good old stories that never end.

Do You See the Same Truth?

There walked a man along this way

Some forty years ago

He set out on a bright summer day

To wander to and fro

We asked him in the village

For what treasure did he seek?

He stood and made us answer

"I seek a man who sees."

"Sees what?" We then did ask him

Surprise was on each face.

For all our people saw well

There's none blind in this place.

A thoughtful look he gave us

His eyes wandered all about

But shrugging he kept walking

His brow filled with a cloud.

And when in the village next, 

He was asked to slow his pace

He asked why should he stop there

And turned away his face.

There passed many months when

Again I saw him come

Along that dusty road, there

This time, not the only one.

For at his side stood another man

A bloke never split a better grin

And when they came into the alehouse

There wasn't an easier man with which to drink gin.

We asked our old pal where he'd found him

This jolly, good-looking young chap

He told us he'd just kept on walking

Until he ran into the sap.

We laughed but saw that both these two

Had some deeper reason well hid

Which made them best companions

Who saw eye to eye. Yes, it did.

It wasn't until later on, though

When the drunkards all waddled off home

And left our two neighbors just sitting

That I saw what was felt in their bones.

They were like two brothers fine-grafted

from one solid pillar, or one flame

They bore in their hearts a desire

To know something called "truth" by its name.

I sat in the woodwork and listened

Like a fly on the wall to their talk

I decided we blokes all were missing

Some great gift meant to be had in life's walk.

Perhaps just to hear their sparked voices

Speaking with passion and ease

Of things I'd never heard spoken

Of things beyond wife and home-things.

They spoke of a burden both shared

A pursuit they each sought and desired

They spoke as if nothing were greater

They were consumed by such great inner fires.

"This must be friendship,"

I thought then

"These men are companions,"

I whispered.

And over again rang their seeking

Their crying, their passionate beating

Over one self-same treasure each sought:

"Do you see the same truth?"

"Yes, it's the one that I bought."

"You bought this truth? This Light that I see?"

"No, I sold all I had...it wasn't enough! Another bought it for me."

"Then you have the same Truth as me!"

And then did I take courage in me

And slunk from the wood where I hid

And creeping close down in among them

Drank up their fine words till they said-

"Would you too, seek this thing?

This treasure beyond knowing or having?

It will cost you your wealth for the taking."

"Though it cost me my all I will have it!"

I spoke bolder than ever my ancients

Both men looked on me with gladness

And let me join their friendship-banquet.

We talked until early dawning

But did not sound out our deep well

We dug and we drew, never yawning

And found the depth beneath us yet held

And seeking we've been ever since.

These forty years have gone by

And more and more other chaps have

Joined us in our weak try

At seeing the same truth.

Hardly a day will go by

Without one asking-

"Do you see the same truth as I?"

The Coming of the Day

Have you heard the sound?
Like silent light it pierces.
Metal rising to the sky in palisaded walls
Break the light into a million rays
So that the flat, square glass is painted, washed in golden haze.
Like insects below, the people move about--
They dash to and fro with straight-faced frenzy
The sunlight on their cold faces falls,
Smudging out difference of years or race;
But no one notices.
They are in a hurry, eyes fixed on the clock,
feet tapping, hands clenched, breath held tight.
But the sound, with the day, continually grows.
With 'ear candy' the sound may be dimmed.
With dark eye-glasses, the light may be less piercing.
With a full agenda the clock may be hurried on
Past the moments of decision--
Moments of life or death.
What they can't shut out though, is the coming of the day.
Each night the streets may flow with filth
Each night the darkness may grow yet darker
Each night captives may be led away,
While masters of debauchery will be enslaved.
Death may meet some--expected or not--
The difference is a small one.
But no matter how black the sky is painted,
No matter how thickly a city of people may lay on the filth
The Day will come--all will be washed away.
Light will creep into the corners and crevices
Some will open their eyes to receive it, others not.
But victorious, the sound of Day will never end its resounding cry--
From roof to roof, window to window, shore to shore.
Until all have heard.

This Sunny Struggle

      It is Finals Week. For most college students, this is already the most stressful time of year. It is also spring and while flowers bloom on the trees in the plaza, newly coupled pairs of young people linger under the branches, chatting about non-essentials with a rather unusual interest that is obviously not captured by the conversation. While the weather is growing daily warmer and the sun has decided to spend more time on the job, and less time in its white cloud-stuffed bed, people are finding it pleasant to walk out of doors and explore--especially in a city like Chicago.
     I too have been sucked into this rather delightful and confusing phenomenon of spring. Hmm, but like my professor said, these times are not happy for every one as far as relationships is concerned. There is a lot of break-ups and heart-wrenching at this time as well. We must not forget to mention these unfortunates.
       Broken relationships are not the only rain cloud hanging over the atmosphere, there are many other troubles, finals and juries being two major ones for college students. I have weathered the latter and day after tomorrow will begin my first exam, finishing my finals the next day with another one. This is a small matter in my mind at the moment. Many other things weigh me down whenever I find my mind wandering into their regions.
     First there is a great conflict going on at home which prudence will not allow me to divulge to my readers--but this is not an uncommon plight for students who live far from home and are yet involved emotionally in the trials their family may be experiencing while they are away. Electronic communication very poorly accommodates conversation between people who love each other very much and know each other very well--it often leaves the student with the bare facts bereft of the comforts of "being in this together" and the communal support of the family unit. Thankfully, I will return home in a few days for at least three week's stay and a lot of this difficulty will be removed.
     Secondly, I am learning that ambiguity has a way of saying something specific very loudly and clearly, whereas simply coming out and shouting it to someone might not do the job as well in comparison. Its an interesting paradox. But I am walking it out each day as the semester comes to a close. I may have the liberty to say more about the source of this lesson in future. And while I have been asking God a lot of questions, I have been hearing very few cemented assurances from Him.
      The word of this season seems to be 'uncertainty'--and yet it is very clear to me that things are not truly uncertain; in fact they have been decided upon and plans have been made and very carefully set into play--my uncertainty doesn't cancel the fact that God is very certain of what He is doing, whether He lets me in on the secret or not. This is why I would like to call this semester's close a time of 'sunny struggle'. There is a lot of sunshine about, both literally and spiritually. But I am in a very real, gripping struggle with fears and uncertainties and opportunities to doubt God in every aspect of my life: school, finances, family, relationships, future planning, employment, etc. It is the sunshine in these struggles that is a gift from God which enables me to truly hope in Jesus. The sunshine helps me to set my eyes on Him and decide that perseverance is possible, and the answer, though unknown, is already set into place.
       I love my Lord and trust Him.
       He is the sunshine in my life no matter what season I am walking through!